A bald eagle spotted this morning during our beach walk.
I don’t know what that pole is there for. It towers over the houses on the beach and it’s been there as long as I can recall. We could barely see the mountains through the low hanging clouds and fog — it was over forty degrees on the beach this morning. By the time the dogs and I got back to Anchorage later today it was forty six here, twenty degrees above normal said the teller of weather on TV. I don’t think she’s a real meteorologist. Then again I don’t suppose you need to be, if all you do is read a national weather feed and repeat the prediction for the next five days on the evening news, something she’s been doing for at least twenty years, without any evidence of improvement. She still seems as awkward and uncomfortable on TV as ever.
Like Linda Blair in the Exorcist I swear that eagle turned its head 360 degrees tracking Buddy’s every movement as we passed by. At 15-20 pounds Buddy is probably a bit too large for an eagle’s talons, but it’s not unknown that eagles have swopped down and snatched smaller dogs.
I left Happy Wife at our beach house to prepare mole and tamales for a party she’s hosting for her girl friends, who drove down from Anchorage as I was driving back. By now I expect the six of them are in the hot tub, likely nude, well fed, imbibing, and carrying on.