Sometimes an eagle. . .

Bald Eagle
(Haliaeetus leucocephalus)

We started off for the Two Hundred Acre Wood in Lanark at first light yesterday, knowing that the day would be hot and humid, and that our favourite part of the world would be in its customary June configuration, a northern rainforest in the midst of a full and shaggy bursting forth.

After the recent drenching rainfalls, everything was lush and green, and one can no longer see further than a few feet into the forest. The edges of the trails are blurred with verdant growth and new maple saplings are coming up everywhere. Red squirrels lectured invisibly from the dense foliage, and there were grosbeaks high in the canopy. Our bluebirds have returned, and they were active at the nesting boxes which we so hopefully cleaned out a few months ago. There were biting bugs in abundance, but the air was also full of dragonflies swooping and whirling on iridescent wings of ebony, amber, ruby and emerald green.

I was happy to note (for the sake of the Monarch butterflies) that milkweed is finally coming up everywhere and making good time in its rising. Although it was cold here last winter, there was little or no snow cover until late in January, and I worried that milkweed would be sparse this year, making summer a difficult undertaking for Monarchs and other milkweed feeding butterflies.

Somewhere in my thoughts as we drove along yesterday was the clear memory of an osprey hunting on gracefully arched wings over the river last June, and how I longed to see one. Instead, there was an eagle, a single perfect bald eagle soaring high in the cloudless blue right over my head. For some unknown reason, I was a bit blue myself yesterday, and an eagle was just what I needed to see. I wonder what he or she portends.