Voyeur

I've been waiting for some eagles to hatch.

The CBC had a write-up on a pair of bald eagles in B.C. There is a video cam attached to their nest, watching them take turns brooding two eggs.

See the story here. See the live cam here.

This is a busy stream, it can take a long time for the picture to appear. And sometimes it's down. I have less trouble early in the morning or late at night, when fewer people are online.

One egg was supposed to have already hatched. But it's late. No eagle has been born yet, but I can't stop watching the parents in their nest. They sit so still, waiting, so patient and alert, as if that is their purpose in life and they are okay with that. Sometimes, the brooder gets up to stretch its legs, exposing both eggs. Sometimes the brooder flies away for a few seconds, to stretch its wings, I guess. Or that's how they switch places - it's a different bird that comes back.

When the brooder re-settles in the nest, it carefully steps around the eggs, tucks the eggs in under its body with its beak, then gently sits on top of the eggs. The unfolding of a birth is nature at its most glorious. The unfolding of a life is pretty fascinating too. Why, that's everyone of us, unfolding in our own way.

Though with the eagles, I feel like a voyeur (can't get away from that with the video cam and all), watching the display of tender affection between bird and egg, waiting for the critical moment when new life is released from the shells. It's something.