A column by S. Jaen Black
When I moved here from Atlanta, one of the many points of delight about Orcas Island was that I would be living amongst eagles. My eyes combed the skies eagerly to spot my first one, which took a couple of months, I think. It was like looking for a four leaf clover. They are there in every patch of clover, but your soul, somehow, has to open a chakra or something before you are deemed lucky enough to find one. So it was with my eagles until finally my eyes could feast upon their glory.
I am the sentry for the very north end of Crow Valley. Every morning and every evening, I sit across from the curved round pastured hillside that forms something of a bowl, the bitter end of the valley. The last hump of Turtleback in plain view and my beloved Boone’s Pond are my territory for my morning inspiration and my evening gratitude.
Every spring we have between two to four pair of Canadian geese court, mate, and raise their young around the pond and our neighbors to the east. This year the clutches varied widely. The first couple debuted a trio, and for a couple of weeks, it looked like they might be the only ones coming down the pike. Then, as nature does surprise us, out came the biggest clutch ever-seventeen!! Eventually, another two clutches of nine and four brought our count to over thirty.
Last week, a new bird drama began. Last Thursday afternoon, there were suddenly two pairs of eagles, two juvenile eagles and six turkey vultures fixated over Boone’s pond and the farm next door. I had an interesting reaction to having the luxury of seeing all these eagles. First of all, we have two cats, and savvy though they may be, any card-carrying eagle could snatch one up, a fantasy that I have heard about but hope I never observe.
Being a lovely day, all four clutches of babies and their parents, of course, were lounging, pecking at will in the sunny pasture with my horse. Coal graciously accepts them as temporary roommates.
In the tall firs over my chair, at least two of the eagles perched eventually. Looking up, I couldn’t see them for the density of the branches, but I could hear them. I had never heard such piercing dialogue so close to me. Despite the shrill nature of their voices, the power of that sound at close range is chilling as the growl of a tiger because you just know the subject of their conversation is when and who will be their next meal.
While my eyes cooed over how cute all the little baby geese were, how innocent and how dignified their parents, how seriously they take their job as parents, overhead I pictured how seriously the eagles were taking their job as well, with the two young eagles quietly swirling over the pond, taking lazy nonchalant circles around the end of the valley. I imagined the adult eagles were giving tips to the young ones, saying things like, “Those geese don’t stand a chance with your claws. Don’t mind that horse either. Just drop in and focus…Hang on tight to that baby and fly up here to eat it.”
All is fair in love and war in this case. I did hope the best for all the little geese, and I wished the same for the eagles. Everybody has to eat. Luckily, if any were snatched, I didn’t see it happen. I found out from my neighbor that they attacked her two turkeys, and have been drooling for the six white ducks she got recently. Also, I found out that last Thursday when this whole scene cranked up, my neighbor’s mare foaled in the pasture, and the afterbirth of the filly was the main attraction for those eagles, who do prefer killed food, just like us.
It has been a week now and routinely, the eagles, one pair, show up twice a day to see what’s cooking around Boone’s Pond. Don’t know if they are considering nesting here or it is just the latest hot spot. However, I do feel honored they feel safe enough to be here, but, I’ll have to admit I feel a little edgy when I can nearly feel their hot breath on my neck as I sit here beneath them, wondering just who they’re stalking today. I don’t think I’ll have sushi in the yard…THAT’S for sure.
I lived on a cul-de-sac in Sitka, Alaska (the land of the bald eagle!) before we moved to Orcas Island. Sitka is on Baranof Island. We love island life! I had an indoor/outdoor cat and one day I was looking out the window at Scruffy standing in the cul-de-sac and from over the house came a bald eagle, gear down and very focused on Scruffy. He hit and grabbed him and sent him rolling. Luckily he was able to scurry into the brush. My neighbor must have seen the event and called me: “Steve, did you see what happened to Scruffy out on the road?” Yes, I did. I had been used to seeing eagles snatch a salmon or two from the water-but not cats. They would sit in the trees and sing to us daily while searching the water. When we moved to Orcas Island we were thrilled to be able to see bald eagles circling overhead. One other airborne creature I recognise in the air above Orcas is a Beaver on floats, but that’s another story. Thank you, Jaen, for bringing back some very fond memories (and I know Coal is enjoying the spring too).
I lived on a cul-de-sac in Sitka, Alaska (the land of the bald eagle!) before we moved to Orcas Island. Sitka is on Baranof Island. We love island life! I had an indoor/outdoor cat and one day I was looking out the window at Scruffy standing in the cul-de-sac and from over the house came a bald eagle, gear down and very focused on Scruffy. He hit and grabbed him and sent him rolling. Luckily he was able to scurry into the brush. My neighbor must have seen the event and called me: “Steve, did you see what happened to Scruffy out on the road?” Yes, I did. I had been used to seeing eagles snatch a salmon or two from the water-but not cats. They would sit in the trees and sing to us daily while searching the water. When we moved to Orcas Island we were thrilled to be able to see bald eagles circling overhead. One other airborne creature I recognise in the air above Orcas is a Beaver on floats, but that’s another story. Thank you, Jaen, for bringing back some very fond memories (and I know Coal is enjoying the spring too).