Look here, he said, my friend Jay, as we were standing in his driveway. This marks the direction of the nest.
He was looking down at his phone, where I expected to see some sort of photo or screen grab. Instead, what he showed me were coordinates on a gorgeous compass. A compass, on his phone. A compass that is also on my phone, pre-loaded in Utilities.
(Did you know about this? How did I not know about this?)
So off we went, Jay, Tim and I, in the direction the new Eagle nest in the woods behind Bickley’s Pond.
This was the first thing we saw.
But Jay knows where he’s going—even when there’s not a swell compass. And so we followed.
I’ve been interested in this hunt, I should tell you, since the Old Pine fell last summer. It held the previous nest right there in full view across the tiny cove from our back yard—so close we could catch all the action from our second story screen porch. I’d grown accustomed to those eagles, watched them raise five babies while I photographed and documented every move they made.
(Not much of an exaggeration those eagles would say.)
So you can understand why I needed to see their new place, to pay them a visit, to confirm for myself they were… well…settled. Comfortable.
In no time, no time at all, Jay most casually said: There. Look up there.
There were all those pesky branches in the way, so we walked on, heading for the base of the tree. It was a little thrilling, I have to say, this idea of getting so close.
But alas. That close meant this view. There was absolutely nothing I could see, and as many revolutions as I made around the base of that tree, the view of the eagles got no better. No better at all.
I started to whine a bit, looking from Up to sheepishly grinning Jay, back to Up, back to Jay, who then said So look down.
It was a treasure trove, this bounty that had fallen from the nest. I spent 30 glorious seconds thinking how lucky we were, how amazing to view this collection of feathers right here at our feet. My heart beat wildly.
Then there was this.
While I focused on the feather (could it be Eagle?), Jay made a lift from the rubble:
The circle of life, again. Oh, my.
five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven
From the look of things, I’m thinking my Eagles are pretty happy there. And so I will just accept, be glad, and wish them well. Wish them many more years, here in the woods of Bickley’s Pond.
ps: I was so overcome with the “circle of life” of it all I failed to photograph this find there at the base of the tree: