In the past weeks we’ve seen stunning portraits of an eagle on Facebook, taken in the nearby Great Lakes National Cemetery. There’s a nest out there, says the photographer, so I thought I might head out early one morning and see if I could find the noble family too.
I got to the cemetery a little after six, just as the sun was beginning to think about emerging. There was no one out there but me and the stirring wildlife, moving quietly in the mist rising from the water into the cool morning air.
I drove to the very back of the cemetery which borders on a small lake. The photographer had said he parked at the back and walked across a field. I could see there was a newly plowed field adjacent to the very back of the cemetary.
How hard could it be to find an eagle’s nest?
I tromped around that field with my feet getting increaingly wet and muddy. I saw plenty of spots I thought an eagle’s nest should be, but I never found the nest.
On my way past the lake again, headed toward the car, the rising sun was making the mist glow.
And the grave markers were beginning to glow too, hit from the east with the first direct rays of the day. Row by row names were being iluminated, making the sheer size of the loss overwhelmingly obvious.
I decided that was enough to call the photo shoot a success.
Even though I never saw an eagle.