“To be alive in this beautiful, self-organizing universe – to participate in the dance of life with the senses to perceive it, lungs that breathe it, organs that draw nourishment from it – is a wonder beyond words.” – Joanna Macy
A once-endangered creature moves in …
If you had told me even three years ago that I would spend a week being awakened by the cries of two juvenile bald eagles at my family’s lake house in New Hampshire, I would not have believed you. That was the year that we regularly started seeing a single eagle – either perched high in a snag across the lake from our house or diving from astonishing heights into the lake and shooting back skyward with a fish in its talons.
Though we have seen her (for some reason I have always thought of her as a her) often enough over the years that we know where to look, catching a glimpse of her never ceases to astonish. This year, however, our astonishment was amplified a hundredfold. Though we never saw “our” eagle’s partner (they mate for life, isn’t that wonderful?) and could not find the nest, she has clearly put down roots somewhere near our dock. I am so very glad that she did because watching her go about her days for a week was a wildlife experience that I will treasure.
… And starts a family
Unlike the past few years, which were all about her majesty, beauty, and even ferocity, this summer was a more tender and relatable experience as I watched her “parent” two boys (again, I’m clearly making a gender-related assumption). The juveniles are much smaller than their full-grown mom who is breathtakingly huge. Their plumage is still dark – they will not get white head and tail feathers for another year or two.
Somehow, they act like kids! They are a little clumsy as they fly and stay lower than their mother, who flies so high that it can be hard to see her in the clouds. They choose to coast more than flap their wings, which makes me laugh and think they might need a nap. And they are loud-mouths! Unlike their dignified, mostly quiet mom, they screech their wimpy imitation of a seagull over and over as they fly. Sometimes it seems like they’re egging each other on – as goofy boys will do. Other times they seem to be calling out to their mother.
Like any mother of teens, she seems to be giving them the illusion of independence and space. She watches from a tree as they swoop over the cove and our dock. She shows up from her old favorite perch across the lake when they call for her. And she follows them after they disappear over the ridge to shepherd them home again. She always seems to know where her young ones are and what they’re up to.
Much of what I observed of this eagle family resonated with me, a human mother of my very own “fledglings.” This was heartwarming and even a little bittersweet at times as I imagined those two “boys” flying over the ridge one last time on their way to find hunting grounds of their own. As familiar as the connection between these three eagles seems, the astonishment, awe and sense of privilege I feel to have the chance to spend time with them has not gone away.
What the eagles helped me see
It’s easy to think that we have to do something amazing or be somehow extraordinary in this world. But “my” eagle taught me that this is not the case at all. I didn’t see her doing anything spectacular this week. No dive bombing from impossible heights. No flying with an enormous fish in her talons. I’d simply watched her do the little “normal” things that all mothers need to do, and the awe I felt in doing so seems meaningful.
Home again, I wonder if it is possible to see my own life with the same sense of awe. If it is possible to embrace the idea that the little things I do to love my people and to tend my house and garden might be the very things that make up a wonderful life. After all, the fact that any of us beat the odds to be born is pretty much a miracle. Simply living the life we’ve been given to live is definitely awesome. Simply loving the ones we’ve been given to love is exceedingly beautiful.
My memories of this special week, I pray, will long be a reminder of that. Thinking of the eagles will help me regain perspective when I start to feel overwhelmed by all that needs to get done or all the things I thought I’d do with this life of mine. Thanks to my time alongside these magnificent creatures, I will be better able to find a birds’ eye view and remember the wonder and astonishing beauty of simply living my one, little life.
P.S. Thanks to my daughter’s stellar camera and quick reflexes, that is actually “our” eagle in the picture above.
Right at the start of the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali points out that our view of reality is typically tangled up with our reactions (vritti) to whatever is going on (see sutra 1.2). Three jam-packed chapters later, he states rather simply that things possess an absolute reality beyond our shifting perceptions and projections (see sutra 4.16). Here’s the thing: when we have the space to see clearly (beyond the overwhelm of what we need and want to do), the absolute reality that we behold is a beauty-filled, awe-some, and quite astonishing life. Steady practice is the key to having moments of such awe-full clarity.