Yesterday I jogged past a bald eagle in the river. A couple of cyclists and walkers were gathered on the side of the path, with their phones out taking photos. I joined them and did the same.
It’s certainly not every day you see a bald eagle.
We all stood in silence, a kind of reverence, watching it. A lady next to me had tears in her eyes.
I’d seen a bald eagle before, but never this close, and I couldn’t help but marvel.
Bald eagles are so emblematic it’s almost jarring to see them in real life. We are so used to thinking of them as symbols or majestic creatures, it’s easy to forget that they are also animals who sometimes stand in a river and eat a fish for breakfast.
I usually write about things, often ordinary and mundane things, that surprise me, things that teach a lesson or tell a story. The unexpectedly sacred.
But this bald eagle isn’t that. If anything is expectedly sacred, it’s a bald eagle.
And every once in a while, I get this wild and beautiful opportunity to come close to something sacred.
It’s good to know that there are still things that stop me in my tracks.
I’m not so jaded and cynical that I can’t appreciate how this world, even with all of its chaos and muck, still wows and delights me.
For that, and for a bald eagle on a Wednesday morning, I’m grateful.
Like this object-based story telling? My memoir, Piece by Piece: A Life Remembered through Things Lost, is available here. 📖💙
There is so much to delight in when we are aware and watching.
Thanks for not running past and missing this wonder for all of us!