It's not unusual to spot a bald eagle or two while walking along the banks of the Kennebec River here in Augusta, Maine. But it still takes my breath away when it happens.
It was warm enough the other day to stroll outside, which is an enjoyable alternative to circling the indoor track at the YMCA, where the scenery consists of obsessives going through their seemingly endless weight-training regimens. So I bundled up for a three-mile jaunt along the west bank of the river and headed out.
This is a grand time of year on the trail, at least when it's free of ice, as it was on the day in question. There is an unobstructed view of the river, because the naked trees have been stripped of their leaves. And thanks to the cold, there are no demonic, reverie-quashing bicyclists screaming "on your left" as they zip by at warp speed.
This is a grand time of year on the trail, at least when it's free of ice, as it was on the day in question. There is an unobstructed view of the river, because the naked trees have been stripped of their leaves. And thanks to the cold, there are no demonic, reverie-quashing bicyclists screaming "on your left" as they zip by at warp speed.
But I digress.
As I gazed at the small ice floes that were sailing south on the current, an eagle suddenly entered my field of vision from the left. It was flying ever so gracefully about 100 feet above the water, its gaze seemingly fixed on the river below. The snowy white head and tail stood out against the dark body and wings, adding to the creature's beauty.
Although I'm quite regimented in my walking, which means I rarely stop or even slow down once I get into "the zone," I had to pause, lean on the railing, and marvel at the glory of this majestic bird, until it finally passed from view. Catching sight of that eagle was the high point of my day. A guy could do a heck of a lot worse.
As I gazed at the small ice floes that were sailing south on the current, an eagle suddenly entered my field of vision from the left. It was flying ever so gracefully about 100 feet above the water, its gaze seemingly fixed on the river below. The snowy white head and tail stood out against the dark body and wings, adding to the creature's beauty.
Although I'm quite regimented in my walking, which means I rarely stop or even slow down once I get into "the zone," I had to pause, lean on the railing, and marvel at the glory of this majestic bird, until it finally passed from view. Catching sight of that eagle was the high point of my day. A guy could do a heck of a lot worse.
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