Fly Like An Eagle

I saw a bald eagle in flight today.  First time.  For twenty years I have heard friends retell their stories of seeing bald eagles around the Clearwater River.  Every year during the eagles winter stay in our region, I have traveled up the river hoping to catch just a glimpse of these magnificent birds; with my eyes always searching, always hoping, but never seeing.  Until today.

It was on the way to Uncle Ed's memorial service.  The family held the service at a small church in the country, about nine miles up the Clearwater River from Lewiston.  Sam and I were just leaving Lewiston and I was gazing out the window, looking at the river, listening to Alison Krauss sing 'Down to the River to Pray.'  A movement caught my eye and I noticed a large raptor flying about thirty feet above the water ahead of us.  It's probably just another osprey, I thought to myself.  As our vehicle caught up to the bird, I caught my breath...the bird dropped a few feet and I saw the white head and a flash of white tail.  "That's a bald eagle," I said out loud.  For a few moments, the eagle soared along side our vehicle, then it began a slow descent down to the water as we pulled farther and farther away.  I watched, unable to take my eyes off it's simple yet powerful flight, turning back in my seat only when the eagle disappeared from view.  For a few moments, I was totally captivated, entranced in the eagle's every move.  It was so worth the long wait.

NOTE: I did not take this photograph.  I was too enthralled at the sight of the eagle to even think of grabbing my camera.

On the drive up, I thought about all the people I might see today.  We arrived early, so I spent a few minutes taking pictures of the scenery around the church.  There were puffy, fluffy clouds peeking out from behind the hills all around the church.  And then it was time to go inside.  My cousin Don was the first familiar face I saw.  I haven't seen him in over ten years.  Thirty years ago he loved to scare the crap outof me.  He'd take me for rides in his Jeep, and he'd drive on the wrong side of the road, especially if another car was coming from the opposite direction.  I remember sitting there, telling him to turn, watching the other car get closer and closer.  I'd grab the steering wheel and try to turn it away from the path of the oncoming traffic.  But he was much stronger than I and held the wheel straight, turning only at the very last possible second.  He'd turn to me and laugh while I swallowed my heart as I pounded on his arm, and he'd always say 'I paid for both sides, so I'll drive on both sides.'  I just wanted to kill him about that time and I'd swear to never get in his Jeep again.  But I loved spending time with him, so I always went when he stopped to see me.  He was the only person I could tell my troubles to...who would actually listen.

Don was injured on the job about a year ago; he used to work for Sam until the accident.  Now he lives with constant back pain, you can see it in his face.  He's pursued a few different treatments, with some success.  But the spine is an unforgiving structure and damage of any kind is difficult to mend.   

We made our way inside and found Aunt Joan and Aunt Darlene.  The service lasted about an hour and the ladies of the church served us lunch after wards.  We visited with several other cousins and their families over the meal.  I traded addresses with my cousin Rob from Utah; he's been very curious about my genealogy research and I think it is time to start sharing resources and information with others.  Let someone else carry the torch, so to speak.  I've been doing it for over twenty years now.

After lunch everyone said their good-byes, and we headed back home.  We decided to take a different route back.  That's one of the nice things about this region.  There is always more than one way home, so you don't have to go back the way you came.

If one path doesn't suit you, you can always chose a different one.

AOL Music: Alison Krauss and Union Station: 'R...