It was a spectacular sight watching two eagles fight each other as they hovered in front of our bay window. Folk singer John Denver once famously sang, you’d be a poor man if you
never saw an eagle fly. By his definition my husband and I are truly rich. Over the years we’ve seen dozens of eagles fly.
Our farm sits at the mouth of the Snake River canyon next to the Morley Nelson Birds of Prey area.
We spotted the eagles while we were drinking coffee and watching the river out our window. Now that it’s November, the pelicans who spent the summer sitting on river rocks have been replaced by a wide variety of birds, including Tundra swan and several species of ducks: Golden-eyes, Mallards, and Widgeons, to name a few.
“Look at that!” I jumped in my chair and pointed. Dale looked up from his IPhone. “That eagle just dropped to the water and caught a fish!”
“Oh?” He set his phone aside and picked up the binoculars. “That’s not a fish, that’s a duck.”
“What? He’s got a duck?” I asked.
“Yep. A big coot.” My husband knows birds. He’s been a life-long bird-watcher.
The eagle labored in flight, trying to haul the heavy coot with its talons. He was headed toward a snag, a large dead tree branch arching over the river at the end of our backyard. He didn’t get far though, before another eagle, flying fast and hard, approached. I’d seen both of them scouting the water looking for food the past few days.
The eagle stretched his neck out and angrily screeched as his fellow raptor dive-bombed and side-swiped him trying to steal his duck.
Despite the attack, the eagle clung to his prey. Then a pesky crow showed up. The crow didn’t seem intimidated at all by the two larger birds. He squawked and flapped his wings, but still the eagle hung on to his coot. Landing on his perch with his duck dinner, I felt like cheering this great bald-headed bird.
My husband and I have known for many years what a wonderful place we live in next to the Birds of Prey conservation area. Being semi-retired now, Dale has decided to do his part to protect and promote the bird populations here.
My husband has designated a part of our farm to be a bird sanctuary and ordered a variety of bird-friendly trees and bushes.
Currently, he’s searching local nurseries for pyracantha bushes, shrubs that tolerate our western alkali soil, and bear berries the birds like to eat. So far he’s planted over two-hundred trees. Dale has got our grandchildren working for him too. My five-year-old granddaughter dropped walnuts in the holes grandpa dug when we planted fifty walnut trees from seed. The older grandchildren strung electric fencing to keep the cows away from the small tree whips.
Though I didn’t do much planting, I make my contribution by keeping our bird feeders stocked. Dale feeds the birds year-round, not just in feeders, but he also broadcasts the feed along the riverbank. We have several feeders in our yard and the small pasture next to our house. Periodically, I drive to the Wild Bird store and load our car up with big bags of sunflower chips and Nyjer thistle.
As life-long farmers we’ve been very dependent on Mother Nature. Mother Nature provided soil and water to grow our crops, and grains and grasses to feed our animals. But these natural resources are not limitless, and with climate change, they’ve become increasingly threatened. It’s our turn now, our turn to be nature’s mother. We need to nurture and protect the animal and plant life around us. It’s a role reversal for sure, but a necessary one.
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