06.16.2019

A quick tale from yesterday:

7a: I crawl out of the tent and start my day with a quiet walk along the shore. One of the eagles that we had delighted in listening to around the campfire last night is sitting on a branch over the beach. It sees me but doesn’t stir. It has my full attention, and I instinctively reach for my camera looking for just the right angle. Too many branches obscure it, so I’m a little disappointed, but mostly just amble on, inhaling the brine of low tide.

4p: Sitting at the kitchen table eating some strawberries and chatting with Dean. Movement catches my eye out of the window, movement like a large eagle in full wingspread lifting above the roofline with one of our young chickens in its talons. We run outside, just in time to see it disappear down the driveway. We give chase but of course it’s futile, they are gone and there’s no sign of where they went.

Neither of these encounters with an eagle are more true, but the proximity is a stark reminder that neither is fully true on its own either. The world is more beautiful and complete and awe-inspiring for having eagles in it. The homestead is more vulnerable and there is one less chicken on it for having eagles near it. Like so much else in life, the truth is both/and.

(Not exactly related, but this reminded me of a recent piece about wolves that I really enjoyed.)

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