As usual, the few days after my Faslodex® treatment I am quite lethargic—ok, lazy. I slept late this morning, pushing my body to start functioning some time after 8:00 am. Usually, I drink my coffee and read and sometimes watch the news, when I’m up at seven, but today I liked the quiet morning with the birds chirping. We live in the city surrounded by concrete, but our loft has one of two skylights that opens to let in a breeze and the morning chirps. I can’t see them, but the sound is just as sweet.
Speaking of birds, the Decorah eagles will soon all be out of the nest, flying around the Midwest and wherever, and the thousands of us viewers are going to have a difficult time when they are finally all gone. Currently, just one has fledged, but that one returns to the nest for feeding since it still relies on the parents for food until it develops its own hunting skills. To prepare for the eventuality of the empty nest, I have collected all of my screenshots and am in the process of adding the current and some recent shots to my online photo site at SmugMug. It is all very soothing to work on this project. Looking at those baby eagles just tickles me and reminds me how fun it was to watch Mom and Dad shimmy over the eggs and the tiny eaglets until they were too big to fit under the adults. Who would have thought that an eagle shimmy would mean so much when only a few months ago I didn’t even know the meaning.
If anything has given me unexpected joy, this experience has been truly extraordinary. The amazing part of it was that it was something I could enjoy here at home no matter how perky or sleepy I have felt. Some people laugh that I watch eagles. Since reality TV is so popular, I would offer that this experience is the very best kind of reality TV. Now, I’ll have to find another compelling site; maybe the African watering hole with the elephants and all sorts of wandering creatures. That will have to amuse me until next January when the Decorah adults return to the same nest to start a new family.
5 6 7 8
© 2004–2011 Donna Peach. All rights reserved.