I rode out with some friends on their ranch the other day. Ostensibly, the goal was to locate a pregnant cow and see if she had delivered yet, and then to doctor a prolapsed cow, but it was such a glorious day, and the tasks were so few and so easy that it amounted to little more than an excuse to take a lazy and leisurely trail ride. We started on the flat, skirting the hills for a mile or so, and then rode up a long oak-studded canyon that grows gradually narrower and steeper as it rises. It’s a slow transformation and we were still in wide-open spaces at the lower elevation, riding through the oaks, when two golden eagles took off from the ground. One of them angled away, up one side of the canyon, but the other flew right over our heads, a distance close enough to be measured in feet, not yards, and as he passed over we could hear, in the valley below us, the faint and lonesome whistle of a train.
Golden eagles are some of the greatest avian hunters in the world, and these two might have been dining on a rabbit, or a ground squirrel, or a young deer, or even a new-born calf, though no agitated mother was in evidence, but at that moment they were something more than birds. Their flight, mingled with the sound of the distant train, became symbolic of time and place and a traditional activity that is passing from the world. We sat our horses and watched as the two birds rode the thermals, drifting east and finally out of sight. In that canyon, at that moment, it could have been 1912 instead of 2012, and it gave me hope that this magical and surprising old world will endure in spite of all man’s tender mercies.
I can picture you and your friend at that moment, and hearing the train and seeing the eagles. I adore this part of nature that has the ability to slow time down and make you stand still. Most certainly in a landscaped area like that you would feel that you might be in another century. I do that sometimes with historic places here in my city of Halifax Nova Scotia. I once took a walk through an old burial ground dated back to the 1800s. All the hustle and bustle of city life around me, horns honking, buses driving but for one split second I got so involved in reading the tombstones, and the dates that I felt that I was lost time as well. It certainly is an awesome feeling. Eagles are regal birds when you see them fly!
Tena French Halifax, NS Canada
Dang, JP, are you telepathizing or something? I am JUST NOW finishing up the 2nd of Kent Durden’s eagle books(the 1st–”Gifts Of An Eagle”, the 2nd “Flight To Freedom”)–I had read the 1st many times years ago, but only recently got the 2nd sequel thanks to Amazon and me breaking down and getting my first credit card a coupla years ago! Anyway(and you should really relate!), they are about a captive golden eagle “Lady” used in the movies(mostly Disney and Lassie episodes), that eventually returned to the wild, with her human caretakers’ blessings–who continued to monitor this eagle and her wild mate who staked a territory not far from their home in California–the Santa Ynez valley, in fact! Superb story, and an amazing relationship between man and eagle. Sentimental for me, because the FIRST EVER anything I saw on our first ever COLOR T. V.(circa 1967 or 68?) was a Disney movie “The Legend Of The Boy And The Eagle” which this very bird was the star of(a superb story/legend I WISH I could get a DVD copy of–but no luck so far, alas!)–Anyway, highly recommended, along with(enter plug HERE…) Steve Bodio’s “Eagle Dreams”, and, hopefully soon to be released “An Eternity Of Eagles”. The first two Kent Durden books can be acquired cheaply IF you look up his author page on Amazon, rather than by the titles. Don’t know why that is, but it is…..L.B.
Simply awesome.
As they live nearby do you think that they are at least ‘persons of interest’ in the nocturnal slaughter of some weeks back? Not sure if they do hunt at night, but they seem more likely suspects than the horned owl, based on the crime scene description. Maybe it was a early dawn removal of an already fatally wounded sheep/deer that had entered by way of the barn and made it to the apron: swooped upon as it lay dying on the cool concrete.
RA
I live near the beach and in summertime we walk along a small trail that hems the ocean. There is an over hanging cliff on one side and huge boulders fencing the ocean on the other. Dolphins slip in and out of azure water. Coal black Herons dot the rocks, admiring the view. On a hot summer’s morning, it is so cool standing in the shade of the cliff, looking out to sea. Behind me and above, a few metres from the edge the of the cliff, is civilization. In front of me… is the world.
Delphine
The other thing Mr. Parker that endures is a 19th wedding anniversary that me and Gerald are celebrating on Sept 4!! We extend this blessing to you and Ms. Darlene that you folks have many wonderful years too.
Tena French Haliax, NS Canada