ABOUT THE BOOKSTHE JACK MCMORROW MYSTERIESBRANDON BLAKE: A CRIME NOVEL

August 21st, 2009

A flying start to the day

Down to the boat early this morning, checking things in advance of Hurricane Bill. No big wind expected here in central Maine, but there could be heavy rain, so the bilge pump will have to be working.

I was bent over wiring when I heard a squawking cry behind me. Glancing up, I saw an immature bald eagle pass twenty feet over my head, a second close behind. They landed in an oak on the shore, jostled for position and perched. The first one, the bigger of the two, kept up his squawking while the other perched quietly.

They were this year’s fledglings, mottled and gawky, flapping for balance as they moved along the limb. The loud one was crying for breakfast (probably why he was bigger) and the smaller one waited patiently. But where were mom and dad?

Ten minutes went by. The young eagles waited side by side, squawking more weakly. Crows were starting to caw down the shore and I figured the eagles would be mobbed before long. But then there was a barely perceptible whoosh, and the parent eagle swooped in low over the boat (massive at that distance), passed the young ‘uns, and went to a tree deeper in the woods. The fledglings followed and disappeared. No more crying. It appeared that food had just been delivered.

The Navajo believe that seeing an eagle is a good omen. Seeing three eagles up close for a long time must guarantee a very good day.

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