Hello Eagle Friends,
As I write this tonight there is at least 3 inches of nickle-sized hail in snow cone shaped piles all over my yard, a few buckets full in front of my garage door, and my entire flower bed is sprouting white ice instead of purple pansies. I'm so thankful that I haven't had time to garden or do any landscaping, for it would have all been destroyed in tonight's storm.
Instead, Em and me went down to do the eagle project. There was a "change" of an isolated storm, hardly even something to worry about. We hiked out and sat down at nest 1. The twins were busy trying to dominate the preferred shady spot on the nest.
Hardly with a whisper, Daedee flew in landing above the nest on a overhanging branch.
She was panting heavily and her eyes were wild with news. The twins sat up begging for her to fly down that few feet and join them. A moment later, Dancer came whoosing by, "Get it mom!" Em called, "Did you get the shot?"
"Not what I wanted. I got his foot dropping off the fish." I shrugged it off. I've got all summer now--no time limits to work around.
The twins attacked Dancer for the fish and I surprised Dancer remained on the nest as long as he did, allowing me the opportunity for a couple shots of dad with the kids.
He flew over behind Em and me to the Look Out Tree. When he landed there, Daedee dropped down and immediately began feeding the eaglets. Daniels Charlie received the first feeding. He ate about half of the fish. Then mom pulled a bite out and
walked across the nest to D'ODEE who was crying out and she continued to feed him.
Daniels Charlie came up under his mom, pushed his weight around her and she shoved him back. I took that to mean this was D'ODEE's portion. Daniels Charlie isn't so easily persuaded, so he came up and stole the fish and it was half gone. Daedee wasn't pleased and she rebuked him by stealing it back and slapping him with her beak. Still, he tried again, and again she watched him steal it, and she took it back and fed it slowly, ever-so-slowly, or it must have seemed that way by the way his beak slowly fell open hoping for a chunk D'ODEE missed.
For four nesting seasons I have watched Daedee make sure each eaglet had a portion of the food. She is an exceptional mother, second to none. While the eagles fed, Dancer was chattering non-stop. I couldn't understand why he was so excited.
Finally, Daedee flew over and joined him. Then he started his calling out non-stop again and looking to the west.
That is when I turned and looked and saw the black clouds. The air had been still, and there had been some rumblings in the clouds, but Dancer was giving me the impression that we should leave. He has brought in the news of the storms before, and this appeared to be "hot of the press."
"Em lets close out and go. I think the eagles are telling us to go now, and by the looks of those clouds, we'll be lucky to get back to the truck without getting wet."
Our bright sunny walk had ended in stillness and with gray and black thunderheads looming above us.
We made it back to the truck and all the way to nest 2 before the rain started.
Judy was up on the nest with 54 day old Terry Gail feeding her. I was still there when she finished and flew off to her perch to watch her eaglet.
At nest 6 I could see Linda or Dick up on the nest with one twin in front. The forecast wasn't looking good at all for Olmsted County. I was glad that we were outside the warning area. As we listened to the announcer talk about the nickle and 50 cent piece sized hail pelting Rochester and how bad driving conditions were ten miles from us the radio cut off.
I didn't know if their station went down due to weather, or if they had to quickly take cover. Severe thunderstorm warnings can produce so many giants, it was hard to determine the outcome. The skies looked menacing in the valley, but everything seemed to be going right around us.
When I arrived at nest 5 I found the twins up on the nest and then I shot day 46 of the controlled burn project at that marsh.
Jim from the Dept. of Natural Resources pulled up. He got out and began opening his wallet and pulled out an article he said he would bring for me.
"Lisa if you would be as dedicated to finding this Lake Pepin monster, as you are your eagles, I'll bet you'd be the one to get the reward."
A mere $50,000 to the first person to bring undisputed photographic and scientific proof that this monster of the deep has never been previously scientifically categorized and it must answer to the name Pepie, or at least that is how I read the article.
So not only do I have to find it, I have summon it by name and expect it to follow into the hands of man who would only destroy it's mystery and lure. I better save that one for the history channel or one of those outdoor shows seeking thrills.
Maybe there is a monster in the deep waters, the largest lake on the Mississippi, but the "not knowing" is the part that makes it fun to think about. What fun would it be if someone did locate it, only to find out that it's an overgrown channel catfish, or record size baracuda, or maybe a giant eel pout that some fool dumped in the Mississippi at the very beginning of the river in Itasca State Park in northern Minnesota only to save it from the heap of fish gathered and celebrated over in Walker, Minnesota.
I thanked Jim for bringing that by. I would like to find that monster. I wouldn't do it for the money though. I don't even think
I'd tell anyone if I did find it. It's secret would go with me. That way others could have their chance for fun and the mystery could go on for the next person to discover and claim he or she is the first, and so on.
We moved on to nest 3 and 4. I could see the mom or father eagle up on the nest with Victory Bell, but only sticks on nest 4.
The clouds were breaking up and the sun came out casting strong side lighting across the marshes.
"We're done Em!' I called to my daughter in the back seat. "We will have to stay awhile though. The weather is still too severe around us, we're better off here for now."
She didn't mind. "Let's go look for frogs."
"Deal."
We drove over to the marsh with the attack goose father, and his 6 darlings stirring around with their mom while he hissed and chased every passing vehicle. I have no doubts that I will come by one day and he will be dead in the road from flying into a vehicle. I'm quite certain that he was probably the cause of that second dead goose I found floating by where he keeps his family. He is the most aggressive Canada goose I have ever been around.
While I was photographing some wildflowers on the edge of the marsh I noticed a green frog facing north. I leaned down to photograph him and the darn fool turned and jumped towards his reflection in my lens. I backed up, he followed. I didn't even need to try and catch him he was following me right back to my truck like some possessed frog.
I was actually relieved when he turned and jumped back in the marsh. He reminded me of this garter snake that followed me on my marsh project. His eyes were clouded over as he was obviously getting ready to shed his long, three foot skin, and I ran into that snake three or four times while working a small area. I called him Satan because he wouldn't leave me alone.
Em did some portfolio shots in some wildflowers and we decided to head back to Rochester. The storm was over. I stopped to photograph some ready-to-calf cows looking at me while two little black calves chased each other through the field disappearing into the setting sun. It was a scene straight off a farm or cow journal magazine cover.
When I arrived on the edge of Rochester a heavy fog was covering the roads and the path into the city. I pulled over and shot some neat scenics of Rochester under a fog. I had no idea how bad we had been hit until I stopped at a park where the sun was just going down behind a swing. "Em, one last shot--come with me."
I set her in the swing, and I didn't even have to tell her to put her head back and let her hair blow while her feet kicked her high into the air with the sun silhouetting my girl who is growing up way too fast. The three inches of nickel and dime-sized hail heaped in the foreground of the shot made a rare photo indeed.
There is nothing more valuable than a memory shared and I had many blessings today as did Em. At her school program today, her last day of school for the summer, she made the A Honor Roll, earned a Handwriting Award, and the look on her face when they announced she had, again, earned the President's Award for having the highest GPA in her class made me so proud of her that I know now what it feels like to watch my shadow step out and become her own young lady who rises and shines and rises and rises.
I'm looking forward to day 144.
See you on the journey--
Lisa
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