You know how crazy I am about my birds.
You should see my Daddy.
He’s visiting us in South Carolina for the first time in several years, and at the top of our agenda is EAGLE WATCHING. We hung out on the pretty screen porch, fingers crossed, hope hope hoping for a sighting. Then right in the midst of dinner, two bites into the pork tenderloin, I caught a quick glimpse of one of the great birds crossing Bickley’s Pond. We decided right then and there to wrap up dinner ASAP and head out for a walk, intent on finding the eagle trio.
Saddled into his little red scooter, Dad was ready to go. So we all set out: Eliza, Tim, my brother Sutton, Little Bit, Dad and me.
I’m happy to report we found those Eagles in short order, perched high in the tall pine just at the top of the next cul-de-sac. What a thrill it was to share that moment with my Dad.
We talked about the big birds, the baby (who seems to be missing?) and all the action that takes place every day around Bickley’s Pond. Then I looked down to find this.
And then this.
And later, along our route, this, and this, and this.
It was a great night for a little outing, an opportunity to talk about interesting things, to look for interesting things, to see interesting things. It was also a night of abundant blessings—which someone certainly made sure I realized, what with not just one feather, but five.