A Dead Bald Eagle---A Metaphor

This last week I, with a couple of friends, canoed streams of northern Wisconsin in pursuit of fishes, Muskies and Steelhead Trout. The splendor of the place can not really be imagined but I must note that it was profound, not just in the coming of the fall colors, but in light of the morning mist and and the whistling of distant ducks. The Chickadees worked over time on the buds and Pilliated Wood Peckers announced their presence as did the night-time coyotes.

The fall light tossed dark shadows across water and the stream glistened above visible Sturgeons. But it was on the Iron River, on the 2nd of October, on a day that was overcast, windy and brushed with a light rain that I ran into a metaphor.There on the bank of the river was a dead Bald Eagle all sprawled out in the damp grass.

The sheer size of an adult Eagle, when seen up close and unpleasantly personal, is notable and certainly leaves one impressed with the power and splendor. It is true this bird, the metaphor, is also a scavenger and will, with great glee, steal and pillage that which is dead and dying. It will also kill. I remember in Colorado watching a group of three Golden eagles try to flush a fawn that was still weak from birth. The Bald Eagle is cunning, cleaver and magnificently powerful. To see a dead one is unnerving and almost disruptive. I have always admired and respected Eagles----even if they have attributes that can leave a person uncomfortable.

I paused, trying to piece the situation together, probably wondering if someone had blasted it out of stupidity but the setting seemed to say that nature had just taken a toll. There was no blood and no wounds but then I didn't really want to do an autopsy because a human caused fatality would truly leave me angered. History will have to bare that out. I got the feeling the elegant bird had made a move on a food source, a resource if you will, , maybe a fish, and had in a moment of stupidity misjudged the target. The impact of the decision was an injury that could not be sustained. The bird had been badly injured on the impact and still alive, crawled up the bank where it expired quietly, and interestingly, unnoticed.

We moved on as the others in our group really wanted nothing to do with it, even if it was a metaphor.  I do think it is important we have paid attention to Bald Eagles, for now there are many more. I did notice that in the air above the deceased bird there was another lone Eagle flying, watching maybe, to see if we humans could bring back what was probably a mate.