Bird Signs

This fellow showed up in our ’hood a few days ago. There be eagles in the park, but the park is a kilometer west of our house so this guy is either lost or come to tell us something. He appeared in the tree across the street while I was out on a cliffside flânerie last week. Ter met me at the top of the stairs when I got home later than expected. “I have to show you something,” she blurted, already darting down the hall. “Oh, I hope he’s still there!”

I followed her to the Ocean Room. She was on the couch and pointing. “See that? My eagle is back! You have to take a picture!”

I surely did. This eagle is special for more reasons than simply being an eagle. For one thing, I believe implicitly that he hung around for a photo op because Ter asked it of him. She’d seen him a half hour earlier—no, heard him, as she was at the back of the house and only saw him because he made such a ruckus out front that she was prompted to investigate. Birds of prey make the shrillest, most alarming sounds when they put their minds to it, and the alien shriek that alerted Ter sounded, she says, like the raptor equivalent of “Hel-lo, is anybody home?” When she spotted him, she immediately set about fretting that he’d be gone before I returned. Never mind that my cliffside flânerie had become a short bus ride to the cemetery so I could get some peace while I walked (that’s another post), which made me later than I’d planned, but each time Ter checked, he was still there, still waiting patiently out of his element and still, apparently, willing to oblige when she begged him to stick around.

I grabbed the Canon, ran back outside, and took up position on the water side of the road, angling to get a clear view of him through the leaves. My camera has a terrific zoom capacity; I can’t quite believe the clarity of the few shots I took. I may as well have been in the tree with him!

Back indoors, I showed Ter the pictures. In the next minute, we went to see if he was still there … and he was gone. He had taken off as soon as I came inside.

So. Ter had seen this same bird a fortnight earlier, while leaving for work on a particularly bad hair morning. She heard a whistle, looked up, and met the eye of an eagle in the tree by the sidewalk. They held each other’s gaze for a minute, then respectfully parted ways. That’s why I say he belongs to her.

In native lore, the eagle is the spirit keeper of spring who symbolizes illumination, spirit power and creation. Native cultures believe that spirits bring messages in animal form; every critter means something specific, so if you ever find yourself toe to toe with a creature outside his environment, the Universe may be trying to tell you something.