A New Nest in the Neighborhood

Story and Photos by Kris Millgate

February
The wind is down, the temperature barely up. The road is clear of ice and traffic. My eyes linger on the landscape as I drive toward my neighborhood on the edge of Idaho Falls. Both sides of the road are flat, frozen fields. The rolling rhythm of power lines on the left waves a shadow across my windshield as I approach the turn for my street. That’s when I see it. An unusually large mass on top of a power pole. Two hundred feet away. I take my foot off the gas. One hundred feet away. I’m slowing to a crawl. Fifty feet away. I put my foot on the brake. My eyes casually roam up the wooden beam in a manner I think is sneaky, but I’m busted. A pair of bright, yellow eyes stare down a bright, yellow beak right at me. A bald eagle. The nation’s symbol of freedom is at the entrance of my neighborhood and it’s staring at me like I’m the one out of place. I collect my dropped jaw and race home for my camera. I’m afraid the eagle will take off before I take a picture. Little do I know it isn’t going anywhere for months.