Hello, friends — It’s May 1! Say “rabbit, rabbit” and get the good luck. It’s also May Day and the beginning of summer spirits: we’re halfway between the spring equinox and summer solstice. In grade school we celebrated May Day with a maypole, and I remember getting tangled in the long ribbons. It’s a wily time, this transition from yellow-greens to greeny-greens, and we’re all covered in pollen. As always, please send me your news of animal encounters. Keep your eyes open and fend off the bad sprites. — Amy Jean

In April, we visited Hudson, New York. It’s a cute town that was once a major whaling center and once known for its brothels (“the little town with the big red-light district”). Now it has antique shops aplenty and a mom-and-pop breakfast spot with pancakes the size of steering wheels.
We walked down the main road to a lookout over the Hudson River, where we watched a green ferry deliver goods to a construction site. It was brisk and breezy in that late-April way, and we wondered if it would be possible to swim to the big central island, the “Middle Ground Flats,” or if you would be devoured by the current in a tragic and impersonal way.
As we stood there daydreaming, elbows over the fence, we heard some very agitated squawks on the other side of a big tree. They were relentless, angry squawks from one very agitated crow. The bird was on the ground under the tree, belting out its alarm. It flapped up and around, and we finally saw the subject of its attention: a bright-headed bald eagle. The eagle hopped over the ground and gripped onto some old train tracks. It stood there for a few minutes, a little dazed maybe, a little confused by the crow, who finally flew off toward the Middle Ground Flats.
Bald eagles are enormous birds. They don’t seem entirely real. They’ve taken up residence on the Housatonic River, too, and sometimes when I’m out rowing I’ll look up and see one soaring directly over me. Here on the Hudson, we watched the eagle for ten minutes as it soared over the river and back around the tree. It then dropped down into a side bank of reeds and disappeared. Was it gathering material for a nest? Had it taken something from the crow? Was it contemplating the impossible situation of being wild and being watched?
I am happy to see more and more bald eagles soaring and making unknown decisions and living their lives and being real in the world. They were rare by the 1970s, and we kept them from disappearing entirely through conservation and by banning the pesticide DDT. It worked and now there are more than 300,000 bald eagles across North America.
What a small miracle it is to be rustled from a daydream at the edge of the mighty Hudson by a bald eagle.
Bald eagle links—
Juvenile bald eagle plays soccer at a North Vancouver soccer practice. The squeals from the kids in this video add to the insanity. [via CBC British Columbia]
A “Cartwheeling” courtship ritual in which eagles lock talons and spin around each other in the air is completely nuts and mesmerizing. [via YouTube]
Bald eagle nest camera at Big Bear Valley in the San Bernardino Mountains features a nest full of youngsters and an incredible view. [via YouTube]
Bald eagles are savvy pirates who take prey from other birds and mammals, and they can live a long time, more than 35 years. Lots of fun facts at Cornell Lab.
Animal encounters in recent comments—
“I never tire of watching seals transform their blocky-looking little flippers into astoundingly flexy fingers for scritching themselves.” Thank you to Alex and everyone at NOAA!
Also—
My bald eagle drawing in the style of Florine Stettheimer is for sale. Some of the proceeds will go to the American Bird Conservancy.
This is my 50th newsletter! Thanks for reading and being there. It is good to celebrate a fat whole number like that.
Wild Life #50 / this monthly newsletter is a place to learn about the life around us, one soaring bald eagle at a time. I do this because I’m not sure what to do about the millions of species in danger of extinction. It means something to see and enjoy the life around us. Thanks for reading and sharing with family and friends.
Love this. You can see tons of bald eagles from the Amtrak going along the Hudson. The first time it happened, I thought it was a magical fluke, but then it kept happening, dozens of eagles, just flying and sitting in trees, every time I rode the train!
Love this post, thank you. I can't not put in a quick plug for a new film on DDT in So Cal (https://www.outofplainsight.com/) - the story is more complicated here.
It's been a week of small bird-related miracles here too. I laughed out loud recently while watching two whimbrels, usually all business, chasing back and forth along the water's edge. One had found a crab among the algae and seagrass that had washed up on the beach, and was parading back and forth with it dangling from its beak, seemingly not quite sure how to eat it. The other whimbrel was in close pursuit. Then there were the hummingbirds and orange-crowned warblers that kept landing within arm's reach while I was up in our guava tree last weekend to prune it. No respect :-)