When I first moved into our home, in 1981, I had a great view. At night, looking north, I could see lights, bright, sparkling, in the East Bay hills above the inky black Bay. Often I saw the Oakland Coliseum with its bright lights that didn’t seem to be dimmed by the distance. In the mid to late 80s, I rented the house out and moved to Palo Alto for several years. When I moved back, with Michele, the East Bay was still there but there was a row of Redwood trees that were starting to encroach on the view. Now they have blocked most of the view.
This morning, as Michele was drinking her coffee, sitting on the couch and watching the sun start to dry out the backyard, after two days of rain, she saw a Golden Eagle on top of the tallest tree.
We both watched it through the window – and through the Buckeye – but there is only so long one can watch a bird, even a Golden Eagle, sitting in a tree a couple hundred feet away, so I went outside to get a better view and a picture. This Eagle had eyes like a Hawk and, seeing me come out on the deck, sort of fell off the tree and glided away. Still it was a very nice way to start the day.