Eagles of My 'Hood

did it faithfully, too; they're good parents till the end. If one parent dies, the other one takes on the responsibility to their best abilities, or until the end of their lives.

I climbed a tree to take a look in an abandoned eagle's nest, one day. It was nearly five feet wide, and that's the weather-worn, un-maintained size; it was a little bigger when it was used. There were still a couple of bone pieces in it, but all the feathers had blown away long ago. It was still very sturdy, in fact, I was surprised at how sturdy it was, as I could lay on it without the slightest feeling of instability.

The more I learn about them, the more fascinated with them I become. They're so majestic and beautiful, and no matter how many times my gaze falls upon them, it's as if I'd just discovered them for the first time. Again and again.

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Be sure to read Mary Alward's "The Eagles Of Squamish." It's about the Bald Eagles of her 'hood, in British Columbia.

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