I went out on the beach this morning for a short walk with Chloe the psycho poodle. Right away I saw one bald eagle and then another, both cruising the ragged edge of ice and open water. The eagles returned, talons empty, to a perch in one tree and then another in the dunes.
The fresh Lake Superior ice was groaning under the breeze and warming morning air. I love this sound. I used to think ice noises were most like whale calls. But what I heard today was almost the same sound as the squeaking unmelodic call of a bald eagle.
For a few moments, walking down the beach, I had it in stereo. The ice gro-moaning on my left, the eagles squa-squeaking on my right. Oh, and the bass boost of the dumb dog’s paws padding on the ice mounds, dragging me forward.
Then some scampy Jack Russell terrier came along and there was much barking. And the eagles headed off somewhere to find dead things. And it was back to the office. But the eagle and ice still echo in my ears.
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