Rain and Reeds

Eagle

A bald eagle, fresh from juvenility, soared above the nearby pasturelands. He tilted his face to the wind and felt updrafts fan the undersides of his wings. He was alone in the October air, scents of recent rainfall sharpening his senses. Any passerby below would have looked up to a solemn sight--a solitary bird of prey skimming, skimming, along a clear blue backdrop.

The eagle was a rather proud fellow, and reserved the right to be so, for he was one of the noblest animals that prowled the skies. He came from a well-known family, and had grown up as the eldest of three chicks. His father taught him to fluff out his chest and peck where it hurt, and his mother showed him how to navigate through tightly-knit branches. He learned he had authority over his two nestlings, and often fought with them to show his dominance. But these were all common forms of arrogance that bred among prestigious eagle families. He had done no harm.

The eagle's expression was one of boredom. He drifted along, looking for a source of entertainment. He relented that he was quite hungry as well. He reckoned the marsh would be of some interest, and shifted his position in the wind until he reached it. His claws knotted around the crown of a tall Sitka spruce. His gaze wandered across the pond.

An amusing scene was taking place below, making the waters turbulent. Eight small ducklings were swimming nearer to the shade of the trees, tailed closely by a young mink.

The eagle's eyes sharpened, and without thinking, he leapt from his perch and swept low over the pond, talons outstretched. Before it could dive underwater, the mink was captured in muscular claws and lifted into the air.

The eagle flew to the pasturelands to enjoy his meal in peace.