Southern New England Tuesday



November is a month to wrap your head around. As soon as you do, it’s no longer November. It’s sort of an in between month when we’re in anticipation of the coming holidays, predicting the winter climate, how cold or warm it might be, how much snow we may have to deal with. We begin to scurry about preparing for the long cold New England weather. We often don’t live in November. We live around November.

Having lost the first week of November to a minor health issue with a then minor complication, I set out this morning, Cameron in tow, to endeavor to experience some outdoor activity. To try to live a Tuesday in November. Although it didn’t register on my thermometer, I could feel a case of cabin fever raging. A rural road hike was what I had in mind and I knew precisely where we were going, Cameron and I. The North wind was fiercly blowing off the water and I knew just the spot for protection as well as affording us gorgeous country and seaside views.

A couple of miles into the drive I noticed a few people stopped at Sprague Bridge. They were outside of their cars, looking at something in the sky and taking pictures. Birders. I thought. Nice hobby but not for me. Too much standing still and I’ve got to keep on movin’. But something didn’t fit the picture. They didn’t have any of the typical equipment of birders. I parked the car to see what all the fuss was about. Well damned if it wasn’t an American Bald Eagle sitting atop one of the Osprey nests in the area!

We were in the path of the wind but it mattered not. I was so enraptured by this magnificent bird of prey, come to visit us, here in South County that the wind was just that, gone and forgotten just as fast. There was an affable local guy who seemed to have an abundance of knowledge about this particular Bald Eagle. Dressed in his American flag shorts, flip flops, Red Sox cap, t-shirt and fleece vest, he  narrated for each passerby a brief history on the bird. While standing on the raised concrete girder, basically in a full wind tunnel at about fifty degrees F not counting the wind chill factor, he told of how, “It’s a Bald Eagle. The bird lives in the lake at the end of the river and fishes for the Shad, which are running like crazy right now.  He’s lived there for a year or two now”. There’s another one that lives on Worden’s Pond. I’ve seen him when I kayak there.” This fellow must have repeated these same words at least two dozen times while I took my photos and admired the eagle. He was a joy to listen to as he seemed tireless in his enthusiasm for telling his story. He had a captive audience every time a new passerby got out to look. Everyone has their moment in the sun.

It got to be quite cold while we waited, the locals and I. We chatted about the eagle and marveled at how fortunate we are to live in such a beautiful and eco diverse environment. Most didn’t stay for very long. I was waiting for a cloudbreak, which wasn’t to happen.            

When I returned home, after attending to real life matters, Cameron and I sat down to have a talk. There are things hidden inside that you don’t see until you look very, very closely.  Now my curiosity was piqued once again.

We had a closer look at that eagle and now

I think I’m in love;)

It’s the eyes.

Just look at those eyes.    

I guess, for a short time on Sprague Bridge, on this Tuesday in November, I was truly in the moment; I lived.  And for that I’m thankful.


nbwilde~wildewrites
11.7.17





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