Home Sweet Home

This looks familiar. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this neighborhood.  I’ve travelled hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles in recent years seeking a better world.  Something is drawing me back.

 

There she is. Mom is looking a bit older and more worn.  She doesn’t have the usual spring to her step. But she is still busy cleaning up the old homestead.  Dad is out doing his provider thing.

 

We wordlessly come together. She rests her weary head on my strong shoulder.  She looks me over and straightens out a few loose ends.  Always tidying up.  She can’t help it.

 

I want to tell her about how her lessons have helped me be the strong, independent adult she knew I would become. I want to tell her about the far-away places and the adventures I have encountered.  We are speechless, yet she nods in recognition of our silent conversation.

 

I must move on, as it should be. I leave with a loud call and a single flap of my gigantic, strong wings.  Below, several humans gasp as they take pictures.  Haven’t they seen a bald eagle before?  Maybe not.

 

As I fly off to the West at high speed, well above the hill below, I wish I could speak to those humans. Over the years I have studied them.  They seem to struggle with purpose and direction.  I want to say, “Look around you; observe and learn; the answers are right in front of you.”  But I doubt they would listen, even if I could speak.