Posts Tagged ‘bald eagle’
Eagle Visit
It was a cold morning yesterday and if we had any pumpkins there would have been frost on them. We do have a lot of leaves, though.
The temperature dropped far enough below freezing that the surface of “Paddock Lake” developed a layer of ice.
Since I’ve been pondering our role in the ongoing rescue of our four thoroughbreds, I took a few pictures of them in the early sunlight as they were gobbling their mix of cracked oats and corn.
Swings with her fresh application of mud.
Mix’s nose.
Mia
Light
Eight hours later, we showed up for the afternoon feeding. I was out scooping manure, and Cyndie was inside, measuring portions into their buckets. Mia was halfway down the slope toward the waterer, munching hay from one of the nets hung on the fence. Suddenly, I noticed Mia had flipped around 180 degrees and was standing on alert, looking to the south.
I scanned the distance to see if I could find what was grabbing her attention. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, my eyes moved back toward Mia, and that’s when I spotted what she was reacting to. A very large bald eagle was standing about five feet in front of her on the shore of the now iceless Paddock Lake.
It’s odd that I hadn’t noticed it when I looked around the first time. The eagle’s bald head stood out with its bright whiteness, and it was so incredibly tall compared to all the little pigeons that are about to get their own zipcode due to a population explosion.
I couldn’t be certain how long it had been there, but because Mia had just noticed, I’m guessing it hadn’t been very long. I don’t even know if it had enough time to drink because, as Mia approached the eagle took off.
Luckily, I had gotten Cyndie’s attention quickly enough that she came out just in time to see the big bird’s departure.
A huge eagle landing in our paddock while we were milling around felt like a nice ‘hat tip’ of appreciation from the universe to let us know things are good here.
It also tells me I’m not the only one noticing that little puddle seems to be forming into more than just a puddle. I’m feeling all the more justified in granting that watering hole a real name.
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Wintery Spring
After what seemed like an almost summery winter, we are now experiencing a very wintery spring. Did I mention the meteorologists were referring to this storm as a long-duration event? It rained hard almost the whole night before turning to snow again yesterday morning.
Now on top of the inch or two of standing water that was covered by about 7 inches of saturated snow, we were receiving oodles of new, dryer snow. It made for some really laborious trudging while accompanying Asher on one of his daily rounds.
The drainage swale that cuts across our back pasture was clearly visible as the rainwater made its way from the fields to enter the creeks that run to the rivers that eventually make their way to the mighty Mississippi for the journey to the Gulf of Mexico. It’s all downhill from here.
When I took these pictures, I was standing on the footbridge I built that allows for ease of travel across the spot where our swale meets the ditch along the south border of our property. That ditch was filled with more flowing water than I have seen in a very long time.
It is dry 98% of the time. It channels runoff during spring melts and occasional flash-flooding rain storms.
As Asher and I reached the far corner of our property on the trail we call the North Loop, a bald eagle swooped up out of the field as if we’d disturbed it from some activity. The very top of the tallest pine tree in our neighbor’s front yard became the eagles’ perch.
If there was a carcass the beautiful bird had been involved with, I didn’t want Asher to find it so we trudged onward to finish the property border walk and get back to the safe confines of the house. The conditions outside were teetering uncomfortably close to the category of being unfit for man or beast.
I’m looking forward to the end of this long-overdue smattering of winter so we can return to some much more spring-like conditions. We’ve certainly got a good head start on “April showers.”
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Next Game
Occupying time while waiting a turn on the pickleball court, I took pictures.
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Lake life can be like this. I was told Cyndie had signed me up for a pickleball tournament the Wildwood gang announced. Someone said 4 o’clock. Steve and I made our way next door where various Whitlocks were congregating on the deck. As the appointed hour came and went, Steve and I decided to head down to the court. One of the Whitlocks went in for a nap, none of the others followed us.
One game was in progress when we arrived. They wondered aloud where everyone else was. Two of the current players had a dinner reservation at 5 o’clock, so they were done after the game in progress. The couple without dinner reservations stayed around to give us a game.
Steve and I won, 11-1. We immediately declared ourselves winners of the tournament.
Rumor has it a series of games are planned for sometime today. We will declare it a different tournament if that is the case.
Earlier in the day while I was floating on my back in the lake, an eagle showed up overhead. It circled over me at a surprisingly low height. It came around again and was so directly above me I pleaded for no poop. I kept my eyes on it as the circle descended into an attempt to grab a fish a short distance away.
No luck on that attempt. Rising from the water, empty-clawed, the eagle came around to perch on a branch in the large pine tree in front of our place. I wondered if there was an (admittedly anthropomorphic) element of embarrassment for not getting the catch but the whole spectacle was wonderfully majestic to see from such close proximity.
The eagle will no-doubt find success in its next game.
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Subscription Confirmation
What did I click on without realizing it? I have no doubt that possibly happened. I also would not be surprised to learn that this company which I’m not going to bother naming chose to subtly opt me in without informing me.
I received an email with the subject line: “Subscription Confirmation.”
“You’ve accepted the following offer”
“Your subscription automatically renews until canceled.”
Huh? Wasn’t me. Cyndie assures me that she didn’t subscribe to anything. Ten bucks a month if we didn’t notice and cancel.
I will take great comfort in whatever struggle is involved in asserting my intention to get this subscription canceled.
More pressing things are on my mind as we pack up to drive home this afternoon. Mother Nature is keeping me occupied by delivering messy precipitation before I finished clearing all the snow that fell last Thursday. In our haste to drive to the lake on Friday, I left the deep snow around the hay shed and in front of the barn unplowed. I also didn’t finish clearing snow off the pavement in front of the shop.
As we were leaving Friday with our eyes on yesterday’s American Birkebeiner ski race adventures and a weekend with our friends, the Williams family, I felt it was well worth skipping out on snow-clearing chores at home.
UMD student Ella skied the big 50K race in pretty decent winter conditions. I thought the wind was a little brisk for spectating, but that would be a rather petty complaint to make in the face of the many hours-long efforts the skiers exert.
This morning my phone alerted me to a storm warning for tonight and tomorrow at home that will start with rain and turn to snow. I really dread dealing with that on top of the areas of snow I have yet to clear.
I didn’t sign up for that. In fact, I’d like to cancel any subscriptions that involve rain during our winter months.
Thank goodness the ski race in Hayward happened in good snow conditions. Just moments ago, while I was writing this in the sunroom overlooking the frozen lake where several deer had run across toward the island, one of the local eagles flew into the large pine tree just beyond our deck.
It did some wiggling with wings flailing on the far side of the trunk and Cyndie wondered if the eagle was eating something. Then the powerful bird took flight with a good-sized branch it had broken from the tree and headed for its nest over our tennis court on the far side of the fateful footbridge over the lagoon.
I would rather sign up for more of this than tomorrow’s weather adventures expected to occur at home.
But heck, either way… ADVENTURE!
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Good Use
We made good use of the gorgeous day we were granted yesterday, before today’s winter storm arrives. I made sure we had plenty of dry wood inside for long hours in front of the fireplace, watching the flakes fly outside.
Do you remember the picture I posted last week of our labyrinth hidden beneath the blanket of a season’s worth of snow? We decided it was time to do something about that. We are doing a lot of heavy thinking lately, and the meditative stroll along the labyrinth path will be a welcome resource for deep contemplations.
Even though it may get buried by another foot of snow today and tomorrow, at least we will have a noticeable impression to guide us in the days that follow.
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We think Cyndie’s phone, which captured the image of me on the left, probably had a foggy lens when she pulled it out of her pocket. There is quite a difference in quality of the pictures we took of each other with our phones.
Figuring out the turns and leaving appropriate space between rows took a lot of mental effort with so few landmarks visible. When our effort was completed, we were rewarded by a spirit-lifting visit from a pair of bald eagles who circled multiple times, very low, just above the tree tops.
I got the impression they approved of our effort. The thought did occur to me while we were carving out the well-defined path, that the pattern of the 11-circuit Chartres labyrinth would look great from the sky.
Okay, let it snow today. We made good use of the calm before the storm that yesterday provided.
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So Close
For once, I saw it with my own eyes. I was up at the house when I heard a commotion down in the trees toward the chicken coop. Chickens squawking, wings flapping, and a large bald eagle swooping through and flying away. I wasn’t able to tell if it had anything in its grasp.
By the time Delilah and I made it down to check on the chickens, they were all happily pecking away at the grass beside the paddock, …except for one.
A Black Australorp was missing. I thought it was possible she was in a nesting box, but upon opening the access door and finding it empty, my heart sank.
The rest of the hens came over in search of a treat. They were such a tight bunch, it seemed highly unlikely the missing bird was off by herself if she wasn’t in the coop laying an egg.
I made the walk to the barn in woe over the loss. Dang eagle. Funny how we have always been thrilled to see the majestic bald eagle in our midst, but since one has now threatened the lives of our creatures, it takes on a different meaning.
When I opened the door from inside the barn to go out under the overhang and clean up after the horses, my woe turned to elation. That highly unlikely scenario of a lone hen mulling about so far from the rest of the brood had occurred. She was cutely cooing away all by herself in the sand under the barn roof.
It made me wonder if she even knew about the close call that had occurred out in the trees just a short time earlier. I had expected those trees would provide cover to protect the chickens from predators, but obviously, most of that protection disappears along with the leaves.
When we decided to get chickens, it didn’t occur to me that doing so would attract eagles.
I wonder if it will be back to try again. Having spotted the eagle perched across the field earlier in the week, something tells me, yes, it probably will make additional attempts.
After seeing yesterday’s close call, I’m thinking I’d rather not be around when it happens again.
For now, we’ve still got nine hens. I guess we better keep our eagle eyes on them if we want that number to remain.
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Missed Again
If you take a lot of pictures, you know what it’s like to miss a shot. Like most things, there are more misses than hits when it comes to the spectacular capture. If you want to nail the perfect picture, beyond some good luck and good equipment, you need a lot of patience.
I came up short on all three yesterday while out on a walk with Delilah. Cyndie wanted me to give our little shepherd a workout to burn off some extra energy, so I strapped on the snowshoes and headed out to pack some of the trails that haven’t been walked since the last snow storms.
Delilah didn’t get the deep snow workout I had intended, because she was just light enough to stay on top of the wind-packed, partially melted blanket of beautiful snow, but I had a plan for that. We would be hiking many routes and doubling back on several of them.
If I can snowshoe both directions, it makes for a better packed path.
The first time we approached the road from our southern fence line, two hawks were up to something, putting on an air show with vocal enhancements that intrigued Delilah greatly.
From there we continued across our driveway and traversed what we call the “north loop” trail that pops out at the big willow tree famous for tripping Cyndie up when she stomped on the rake. Normally, this route would be followed by traveling up the driveway to the house. Delilah was locked into that program to such a degree that my instruction to turn around and head back in the other direction was met with quite the expression of complete confusion.
It’s was laughable, especially because that was quickly followed by a sprint that said, “Let’s do this!”
As we returned to the road from the opposite direction, it wasn’t a hawk that caught our attention, it was a big eagle flying away. With my eyes skyward, the silhouette of another white-headed dark bird perched in a tree was easy to catch. Even though I was limited to what my pocket camera could achieve, I stopped Delilah and tried to zoom in for a photo.
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It didn’t provide much in the way of opportunity, so after a couple shots my attention shifted to Delilah at the end of her long leash in front of me. She was staring across our field, holding a gorgeous pose that was definitely photo-ready.
As I lifted my hand with the camera and my finger reached for the shutter button, I missed and pushed the power to “Off.”
Delilah moved as I fumbled to get the power back on and the spectacular sound of large flapping wings made a couple of snaps into flight. That beautiful bald eagle pushed hard against the air to soar into the sky away from us.
It won’t be the last beautiful photo I just missed.
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Nice Day
Saturday was a pretty nice winter day on the ranch. Even the chickens –all three!– came out to enjoy the day. To celebrate, Cyndie raided the kitchen for some grapes to reward the occasion of the Buff Orpington venturing a distance away from the coop.
They even veered off the plowed paths into the fluffy white stuff, traveling interestingly close to tracks of an adventurous mouse. Was that coincidental?
I wonder if that little rodent knew who was lurking about when it scurried across the top of the snowscape.
On Friday, while I was splitting wood with Delilah leashed nearby, I spotted her flinch suddenly. Looking up, I caught sight of a beautiful bald eagle floating at a menacingly low elevation, just above the treetops.
I wasn’t too worried about Delilah, but I did wonder where the chickens were at the moment.
The horses appeared to be mesmerized by the warm December sunshine, spreading out and soaking up the solar energy with a contagious calmness.
In a switch from the situation last week, this time it was Legacy who was out in the hay-field all by himself.
We still think he is behaving uncharacteristically distant at times, but there doesn’t seem to be any unnatural anxiety showing from the herd, and periods of normalcy generally rule.
It was a beautiful day and we feel blessed with the luxury of simply enjoying it to the fullest.
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Relative Something 