I
had a moment the other day that reminded me of scuba diving. While diving the first time and exploring a shallow wreck, maybe 100 yards offshore and about 20 feet down, a Moray eel came jutting out from a little portal in the vessel and swam right by me. Not only did I have no time to react, but I knew for certain that I was no longer at the top of the food chain.
We are hopelessly in love with this natural, open land. There is an excitement that builds as I pass the old exit, knowing that in 10 minutes I will see the fields with baby fruit trees whose trunks are wrapped in plastic sleeves, turn left at the little white building marked with a Z and head up the first gravel drive on the left.
Our slice of heaven has weeds
galore, peeling paint, a growing burn pile in back, scruffy and unkept planting
areas, and I tell you, I can't wait to catch sight of it in the distance and
wonder if dinner is on and the front porch is lit. Yes, and yes. I am last to leave for work, and there's a ritual with the dog. First, we play 'find it' with little treats tossed in all the rooms. Then it's outside to potty and a good long run out back for squirrels or bunnies that are waiting to be chased. After some really good sniffs she runs faster and faster gaining momentum, and like greased lightning makes a beeline for me on a full out run that usually involves an in-air collision with my work slacks if I do not step out of the way.
One
day last week, after all the excitement of goodbyes, I was being watched as I
walked to the garage. In one of the oaks out back was ... a hawk? no, too big
... an owl? wrong shape ... an eagle? Yes, an Eagle. It stood well over 2 feet
and casually watched me in an unintimidated way, although I cannot say the same.
I looked for him after work with no luck, and he appeared a week to the day later, at dusk, in a tree out front. He is probably a juvenile Golden Eagle, not yet having achieved the fearsome full height and wingspan of an adult, but unquestionably the biggest bird I have ever seen up close.
That tingling sensation from the scuba days came back: Dorothy! We're not in Kansas anymore :)
Something appears
to be upending the pecking order. The research bears that out, that Goldens are
keen and swift hunters, and unafraid to take on larger animals, including the
two legged ones, when they are threatened or food is scarce. Fortunately the
fields have many egrets, a thousand ground squirrels, wild bunnies, and a vast
variety of birds.
It's
a steep learning curve for this new eco-system we have joined. Lesson one is to
keep a sharper eye on our guests (both two and four legged ones), especially
during the birds' mating season.
It is a sensational view from the ringside, although secretly I hope the 60 square mile territory of the Golden Eagle will draw it away so the nesting area of the GHOs is left unchallenged. Great Horned Owls have a territory of roughly an acre, which feels a little cramped at the moment.
No matter what, it promises to be an interesting spring. Whose nest is it?
