Sea Eagles

It was customary to draw and document the unique and exotic wildlife that was endemic to Australia after it was colonised about two centuries ago.  Sea Eagles, painted by 'scientific painter' William T Cooper in 1947 is mostly one such painting, and this week's prompt from Hornsby Shire Libraries. 

Click on the picture for a clearer image

The proscenium of overcast sky on a dark grey hippodrome of ocean surface was all set for the spectators - a colony of squawking seagulls on the craggy cliff abutting the endless waves. Seated amongst them, I was contently munching on a freshly-caught succulent starfish when an unfamiliar whistling caught my attention. It was Friday the 13th, had I been a human and triskaedekaphobic, I'd have had reasons to worry about that ominous screech. Instead, I was relaxed, incubating my speckled eggs, three in number, in my nest,  nestled comfortably in the nesting ground atop the tallest pinnacle. On a day like this when the water was slate, reflecting a nimbose sky, the silver glint of fish on the surface was an indubitable indication of a scrumptious meal. My partner, now only a flying speck, had gone out there to grab some and satiate his taste buds. He had little competition and apprehension today as our larger predatory neighbours, the sea-eagle pair, were happily resting with their three eaglets in the large eyrie up the tree behind our cliff.

At first I had waved it off as the sound of wind keening through the crevices of the cliff, but a flash of swooping white wings fringed with strong black flight feathers gleamed in the inky dias, juddering my heart to a pause. It was a mighty sea eagle, a bellicose intruder! I cried, or rather squawked, to alert my partner, knowing quite well the wind and waves would smother my call. The others in the colony picked up the cue and started squawking in unison - the cliff was a raucous hell in no time.

The sea eagle apparently glided down to the seething sea, as if alarmed, but swiftly picked up speed, snatched a flailing fish, and claimed height rapidly. Soon it flew over our cliff, piping and calling. If we thought the danger was over, we couldn't have been more wrong, for it was only a curtain raiser for a dramatic play that was about to unfold.

Mother eagle stirred in her rest, whistled back, and stretched her wings. She took off for a surveillance of her area - who did dare to impinge on her territory, trespassers were never forgiven, not when babies were around. Her acute sight didn't miss the raptorial intruder - a male white bellied sea eagle who was devouring the vestigial entrails of the fish hunted minutes earlier. Back to her nest, she reported the sightings and took to the helm of her home as daddy sea eagle took to the sky. 

He found the intruder hovering over the nest among the trees and started swooping after him in a counterattack. They swirled mid air, glowering at each other, and piping at the top of their pitch. Gradually the circle grew wider until the two belligerent eagles took the centre stage several metres above the wavy water of the dark ocean. It was portentously beautiful - two powerhouses coming to a mighty blow in the backdrop of a sky impregnated with billowing clouds. We, the lesser mortals, held our breath in awe for the climactic denouement - all the seagulls at sea had retreated by then, tucked themselves in the safety of their nest, and stayed put; nobody squawked. 

For several moments the eagles circled, whirled, and screeched, but did not yield to each other. Each incited and incensed the other, but daddy eagle was beyond furious; protecting his nest was an innate instinct that drove him to attack the intruder - an eye gor an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a talon for a talon. Like a gargantuan pinwheel, they locked their toes and wheeled round and round, plummeting at an incredible speed - they'd hit the water any moment now... and yet none of them gave up until the intruder plunged into the ocean and daddy eagle had to let go of the lock. 

The war concluded as one returned to his nest and joined his family while the other left accepting a defeat. As I watched the outsider leave, my clutch wobbled a bit under me - did my precocial chicks sense a lurking predator from within the shell or was it my delirium? *

Dona, Sydney, Sep'21 

*This part is premised on an article that elaborated that unhatched birds can sense danger from within the eggs. 

Now watch my words in motion, if you'd like to!

Hope you didn't miss The Shepherd!