mate for life

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This is a bald eagle story that's sweeping through Internet as such stories often do. I first heard it when it originally aired on NPR's All Things Considered.


Although I have worked with several species of injured raptor, never a bald eagle. At least not yet. The story does underscore their loyalty: birds of prey mate for life. 


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first eagle

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"Alone with the morning sunshine, I was left sitting in the middle of a state I did not know, like a man with no home, untethered to anything other than the planet itself like Kerouac’s Sal Paradise on the road. Paraphrasing him, “the golden land lay ahead…where all kinds of unforeseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you’re alive to see.” At that moment, I could have walked away from the rented car and all I had known; followed the scrub jay’s leave and found answers to my questions; and with that perhaps even freedom...

"Another hundred yards down the track toward the north, a hawk was making itself known, obviously disturbed. Red-shouldered hawks are highly vocal. I stood, turned and had not made three dozen steps toward the ruckus when a tall stand of pines to my left erupted with life. An adult bald eagle bobbed up and down, unfurling its eight-foot wingspan prior to take off. I knew instantly that the bird had been watching me, lost in my vagabond dream. My heart raced as the majestic bird of prey took flight and swooped down over the track, dipping low not 50 feet in front of me. It climbed and sailed off to my right and since the railroad bed was raised for a time we were virtually eye to eye."

"I watched this country’s symbol — talons free of arrows or snakes or olive branches — as it flew to the east and out of sight. Anytime a moment like this unfolds, the world slows, it’s forever etched in your life’s memories."


Photo by Wayne Mallinger.

Excerpt from Natural Histories published by the University of Tennessee Press. Book available at Ijams Nature Center or from the author.

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natural histories: bald eagles

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"Eagles have a sort of play. They carry a large stick up and down a river playing keep away from one another. Every so often a second eagle will grab the stick and snatch it free, or the baton-bearer may drop it, only to dive at breakneck speed to catch it before it hits the water. They’ll play this game back and forth like kids with a ball, wild and free.

Only on rare occasions do we get to look into the heart of absolute splendor and know its naked truth; that nature is dynamic and resilient; a swirl of starts and stops and tenacious rebirths; and by all means, as fluid and swift and ever-changing as the river that flows past my Tennessee Valley home."



Excerpt from Natural Histories published by the University of Tennessee Press. Book available at Ijams Nature Center or from the author.

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dalliance

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Forgive me.

I'm running behind, the past six months, concentrating on my family's needs, my job, finishing a book project, it's been somewhat overwhelming. (Sarah Brobst recently asked me: If you can be overwhelmed and underwhelmed, can you simply be whelmed? And, indeed, yes you can.)

There was a stack of forlorn mail that I haven't had time to sort, on the end of my desk, there in the breakfast nook, near the window with the hummingbird feeder, and tackling it recently, I soon uncovered this January/February issue of Audubon with their photography contest prize-winners.

The cover features the grand prize winner, a photo by Rob Palmer. Wow! Gosh! Outstanding! And whatever other superlative you care to use.

I'm sure I'm not the first to see it and think of Walt Whitman and his famous poem "The Dalliance of the Eagles." Dalliance means "amorous play," and please note like the extended play of eagles, the poem is one long extended sentence, a sort of word play, if you will...

Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,)

Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles,

The rushing amorous contact high in space together,

The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel,

Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling,

In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling

Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull,

A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing,

Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting,
their separate diverse flight,

She hers, he his, pursuing.

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flyway

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On a recent visit from Chicago, Harald Schmidt had a good morning. Last Sunday, he was on the river at Alcoa Highway and Topside Road.

Harald e-mails, “At one point I could hear some birds making a lot of noise in a nearby tree. While walking closer, I saw this very large bird sitting in the tree. When he saw me he took off and I was only to get one photo.”

In addition to the bald eagle, Harald also got photos of an osprey, red-tailed hawk, turkey vulture and finally a great blue heron.

There was a lot of airborne traffic that morning.

Thanks, Harald.

- Photos by Harald Schmidt

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eagle spotting

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Bob Davis, a pilot that flies out of Island Airport located within a mile of downtown Knoxville, reported seeing a bald eagle recently.

Bob e-mailed, "Today, while towing the two-seat glider over Williams Golf Course [east of the city], I flew by one mature bald eagle that was soaring under the clouds."

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eagles return

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Bald eagles in eastern North America were once on the endangered species list but they have returned to our skies. On Saturday, March 13, at 1 p.m., I’ll revisit the last chapter in my book Natural Histories that deals with the recovery of our National Symbol. The program includes a short talk and slide show at the Visitor Center, followed by a carpool trip to Seven Islands Wildlife Refuge and the site of the first documented successful bald eagle nesting in Knox County in 2004. We may actually see an eagle on the outing! Fee: $10 for non-members, free for Ijams members. To pre-register call Sheila at 577-4717, ext. 10.

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soaring

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Bob Davis stopped by the nature center the other day. He reports seeing two adult bald eagles—perhaps a mated pair, perhaps even the pair that nest upstream on the French Broad or Holston rivers—soaring over Island Airport on Sunday, October 25. The airport that opened n 1930 is located within a mile of downtown Knoxville.

The eagles were at play, leisurely enjoying the afternoon. After awhile, they were joined by a couple of red-tailed hawks. Bob is a pilot, quite comfortable in the same sort of thermals that the birds of prey were taking advantage of that day.

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local young eagle

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Wow!! Local photographer Bob Howdeshell posted this wonderful photo of a juvenile bald eagle he found recently at Kyker Bottoms in Blount County near my home.

As Bob noted, "The crows were mobbing something so I headed in that direction only to be surprised as a young eagle flew by! I was fortunate that it landed in a tree that was close and I was able to get a few photos."

For more of his photos, visit Bob's online gallery.

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at auction

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John James Audubon was this country’s seminal naturalist/artist/writer. Although more famous for his 435-print “Birds of America," the rugged buckskin-clad backwoodsman also wrote extensively about his outdoor observations. He would have loved a blog. When strapped for cash, which he often was, he sold oil paintings and hand-drawn copies of his originals.

It recently occurred to me that I could do the same. So at auction here is a hand-drawn pin-and-ink copy of my original illustration of a bald eagle that appears in my book, “Natural Histories.” This is not a Xerox copy or a laser print but a hand-drawn, tediously recreated copy. If you take it outside in the rain, the ink will flow like LeConte Creek in the Smokies.

Revisiting the composition, rediscovering its form, the weight of its line after three years was satisfying. It was like a reunion with an old friend, so much time has past, and so little. To my eye, the copy is actually better than the original, there’s more nuance, because as they say, “practice makes perfect.” The eagle’s intensity is rendered with more subtlety; an artist’s hand mellows with age.

The sheet size is 11X14, so it will fit nicely in a standard size mat and frame that you buy. You can bid here on my blog or, if you prefer a more private channel, e-mail me at lynbales@comcast.net. The bidding starts at $40 and will close in one month: November 8.

Best wishes. Satisfaction—as much as such an illusive concept can be achieved—is guaranteed. Please forward any questions.

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eagles return

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- West Side Story: Fall 2005

Bald eagles returning to our skies

"Soaring high overhead, riding on aerial thermals as deftly as a sailboat glides across a shimmering wave, few would deny that watching a bald eagle fly is one of the most inspiring sights in the natural world. The magnificent bird of prey is the perfect balance of grace and power, beauty and steely-eyed resolve.

Bald eagles are our national symbol, and I can think of no other feathered or furry creature that commands such respect. Whether it’s flying over a remote area lake or swooping into a crowded stadium before a World Series game, people pause to watch in slack-jawed wonder, their hearts pounding in disbelief. They cheer. They applaud. They jump up and down. Eagles have become one of the most revered icons in our culture, but it hasn’t always been that way.

Presently, seeing a bald eagle is not an everyday affair. They are few and far between. Yet, they were a lot more common 400 years ago, so banal to early settlers that they were regarded as a nuisance, even shot on sight. One account recorded in the year 1668 reports that an “infinite number” of bald eagles were killed to feed hogs in Cumberland County, Maine. Pig food. As I write the words my fingers tremble; anger rises to clog my throat. I can hardly believe what I have just read, but it’s documented to be true.

Less than four centuries later, by the 1950s, they were virtually gone from eastern North America. Their decline was due to overhunting, habitat loss, general disrespect and the long-term buildup of pesticides in their bodies—most notably DDT. Historically the large raptor with a wingspan of over seven feet nested in west Tennessee, along the Mississippi River, Reelfoot Lake and at Land Between the Lakes, but there were no successful nests in our state from 1961 to 1983, a period of 22 years. With the banning of DDT in 1972 and the protection of the Endangered Species Act, the magnificent raptor’s beleaguered population began to rebound. Eagles are returning to our skies, but they have needed a little help...

For the rest of the article about bald eagles in Tennessee, look for the fall issue of the West Side Story.

- A special thank you goes to editor/publisher Dan Barile.

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