A few days ago, the early spring rain had finally slowed and the sky turned a vibrant blue, and I thought I ought to go exploring while the sun was still shining. In rural Ohio, rivers pulsed with streaming rainwater, so I gathered my Pangean Glider chair, a six pack of beer, and my binoculars, and I set off in my car. I made my way along backcountry roads, following the meandering river, over bridges and passed the endless farms. And just beyond the local damn, I found a rocky dirt road that took me up to a peaceful place at the edge of the Killbuck Creek. The location seemed perfect for bird watching and for some much needed time alone, with Nature, as there are no people or houses, only the fresh-tilled earth of corn fields, which ran up to the edge of trees which gathered thick along the water’s edge.
The river split into three directions mere feet from the edge, where I had setup my chair. I sat back, lounging in my Byer of Maine chair and took in a deep breath. The only sounds I heard were the gentle rushing of water and the call of birds soaring overhead. I cracked open a bar and relaxed back for what seemed like hours as I took in the scene, the smells and the sights. I was alone for sometime, until a pair of kayakers came streaming down the river, laughing and having a good time. I knew I had it good, but I also conceded that they did as well, because they could float down the river at ease, as there were no rapids here, and the scenery would be ever changing. I waved and gave them a smile, and before long they were gone.
I pressed my binoculars to my face and watched the hawks soar and dive low near the river. For hours, I watched and I breathed in the fresh air, until I nodded off to sleep in the comforts of my glider chair. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but there was no mistaking what woke me. The unique screech of a bald eagle jarred me from my reverie, and I awoke with a start, eyes wide and staring around. I finally spotted a bald eagle’s nest through the trees.
The mother was brilliant and strong looking, with fierce eyes. She had brought back food for her young and I watched as she fed them. Having the chance to see and try to understand a day in the life of an eagle was an awe inspiring experience. I’ve often seen bald eagles, especially when they’re young and brown, down on the road, eating something recently dead, but never like this. Never before had I experienced something so majestic. The mother eagle would take off and come back not long after with food for her babies. If I strained, I could hear their cries. With the binos pressed hard around my eyes, I made out the young’s faint traces of movement, but it was the adults that put on a show for me. There’s just something amazing about eagle watching. It’s like seeing that gave me some hope for our world, for the survival of life itself, because if an eagle’s nest can survive here, among a sea of farmland, then we have hope for a better world that we must all come together to work toward saving.
If you would like to learn more about the Pangean Glider by Byer of Maine, click here.
(Photo by captivated via Flickr)
Article written by Brandon Scott
I pressed my binoculars to my face and watched the hawks soar and dive low near the river. For hours, I watched and I breathed in the fresh air, until I nodded off to sleep in the comforts of my glider chair. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but there was no mistaking what woke me. The unique screech of a bald eagle jarred me from my reverie, and I awoke with a start, eyes wide and staring around. I finally spotted a bald eagle’s nest through the trees.
The mother was brilliant and strong looking, with fierce eyes. She had brought back food for her young and I watched as she fed them. Having the chance to see and try to understand a day in the life of an eagle was an awe inspiring experience. I’ve often seen bald eagles, especially when they’re young and brown, down on the road, eating something recently dead, but never like this. Never before had I experienced something so majestic. The mother eagle would take off and come back not long after with food for her babies. If I strained, I could hear their cries. With the binos pressed hard around my eyes, I made out the young’s faint traces of movement, but it was the adults that put on a show for me. There’s just something amazing about eagle watching. It’s like seeing that gave me some hope for our world, for the survival of life itself, because if an eagle’s nest can survive here, among a sea of farmland, then we have hope for a better world that we must all come together to work toward saving.
If you would like to learn more about the Pangean Glider by Byer of Maine, click here.
(Photo by captivated via Flickr)
Article written by Brandon Scott
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