The November morning dawned cool and gray as we drove the last several miles to our destination of Presque Isle. Here we planned to begin a waterfowl count. A cold front was moving in, so we hoped for an active morning.
We pulled into a very wet parking lot and piled out of the van, breathing deeply of the fresh air that stirred the water into huge whitecaps. Out on the beach, we peered through spotting scopes in search of any birds that happened by. The northwest wind tugged at our windbreakers as we observed a Brant, which was a lifer for several of the group.
Time flew by as our morning count crept upward. Cold as the wind felt, we were rewarded for standing on the beach. Two Harlequin Ducks, a Red-throated Loon, a Red-necked Grebe, both Surf and White-winged Scoters, and a Long-tailed Duck made their appearance during the morning’s watch. Even a Snow Bunting and an American Pipit happened by. Though they were not waterfowl, we enjoyed their presence.
Suddenly a cry came from one of the group. “Look, there’s an eagle, and it’s after the Brant!”
All spotting scopes swiveled and binoculars focused on the scene of a Bald Eagle chasing “our” rarity. The eagle dived, and for a moment was out of sight between the waves. Then he reappeared, and hanging in his merciless talons was the poor Brant! The eagle flapped hard, but his load was heavy, and…he dropped the Brant!
Eyes glued to the scopes, we watched breathlessly as the wounded, but living, Brant bobbed on the waves while his attacker circled nearby. Then, while we watched helplessly, the eagle closed in again. He dived once more and snatched the Brant from the churning water. But again his load was too heavy, and the eagle dropped into the waves.
We stood on the beach, shaking our heads. “Surely the Brant couldn’t survive an attack like that!”
But, lo and behold, a dark form bobbed on the waves, head erect, definitely alive.
The eagle again was circling. He dove. We held our breath. The eagle grabbed the Brant’s head with his sharp talons. Then, flapping hard, he tried in vain once more to carry away his prey. It was too heavy. He dropped the dead Brant with a splash and glided out of sight.
We scanned the water. No Brant bobbed on the restless waves, but the eagle hadn’t carried it away either. And though we felt some sadness for the fate of the poor Brant, we knew the eagle had to eat to survive. There was nothing we could do except be thankful for the opportunity to witness another marvel of God’s glorious creation.