Standing with my husband in the road, I had walked him down to the edge of the property to show him the lilac buds I have been watching slowly grow. It’s mid morning, but grey and cool. More rain in the forecast. We are talking, and ambling back toward the house when we hear a hoarse crowing croaking noise. In tandem we look up and together see two very large dark birds flapping just above the tree tops over the creek. The circle closer, the slightly larger one banks and its white tail fans out, close enough to see the individual feathers, then I see its white head. “Bald Eagles!” I cry out, excitement surging through my veins. The slightly smaller one dips down, totters on air currents, and glides over us, its underside blotchy juvenile coloring readily apparent. How spectacular to see an adult and an immature bald eagle so close! We watch them circle out over the creek for many long minutes. They climb higher and start circling over the hillside too, ever enlarging circles, lazily flying and gliding higher and farther away. We watch until they are nothing but unidentifiable dark specks against the grey sky.