There's a different kind of family in my aqua-transient neighborhood.
This family, which, I think, numbers six in all, spends a lot of time out of their home. The parents are always close by their offspring, but not encroaching on the space of their children. I would say "hovering", but that is exactly what the parents and their babies are doing. Hovering. For this is a family of majestic eagles.
I first noticed the avian activity early this morning when I escaped to the outer deck with my yoga mat. As I was flexing, grimacing, stretching, grimacing, contorting and grimacing even more (Notice I do a lot of grimacing?), I was able to take in my surroundings with my eyes and ears. Since none of the other boats had any visible human activity, it felt as though I had the harbour to myself. The occasional call of a loon punctuated the silence that was otherwise broken only by the constant lap of waves against the hull.
The birds' flight patterns were fascinating to observe as they would glide, dip, soar - all the while seldom, if ever, flapping their wings. Their movements appeared effortless, aided only by the wind buoying them high above the pines.
What was at first only one eagle soon doubled and, for a long time, just a pair could be seen in flight. Perhaps an hour later the two birds disappeared briefly. When they became visible once again, the two had multiplied to a total of six great wingspans aloft. It was as if the parents returned home to awaken the 'teenage' birds who were trying to sleep in a bit. Mesmerized, I sat transfixed and motionless, feeling like a voyeur into their private world in the sky.
Be well, family of eagles. I am humbled and honored to be in your world.
Ancora imparo
