Eaglets (stories about baby eagles)

I was sitting on the hill on the property. I watched the eagles gliding over head. Usually three of them, today only two. Spinning round and round. Some time later and after some consideration I asked a friend of mine who is a First Nations woman to speak to the local elders in Ballarat. I was asking permission to name my property ‘Bunjil’.

Bunjil, in First Nations mythology, is an ancestral Wedge-tailed Eagle who created the land.

I had their approval.

I was pleased. A small homage to the birds and to the people who had lived here before me.

I live on traditional Wadawarrung land. Land stolen from the First Nations people back in the 1800’s. The colonists came to this district and moved these people off their land. Pastoralists needed land for their stock. It was the gold rush era and white expansion was well underway.

The eagles nest was located a few years later. About a kilometre away in a huge eucalypt on a neighbour’s property. I was with a friend riding our horses along a quiet track when he spotted it. So much excitement. Two giant birds - one in the nest the other sitting above it.

An extraordinary construction. Actually two nests, one situated higher up the tree above the other. Apparently they alternate use of nests each year.

Last year in late July or early August my walking mate, Bill, and I decided to check the nest. Maybe we would get lucky.

We set out with four dogs and a couple of smart phones.

Two baby eagles. Unbelievable! White and fluffy with giant black eyes. Already big birds at this early stage of life.

We kept our distance. The dogs sensed the need for quiet and sat watching and waiting. The mosquitos attacked and so we didnt stay long.

We would return every week or so - now armed with a decent camera and insecticide - until the eaglets left the nest some months later.

We watched them grow into gangly scruffy youngsters. And they watched us. Powerful eyes. Maybe they would recognise us week after week?

In the early days Bill was worried that the bigger one would kill and eat the younger. When there is not enough food. He had read this somewhere.

I told him I didnt think there was anything to worry about. Rabbits everywhere. Swarms of rabbits.

We would scan the skies looking for the parents. Spot them circling high above the paddocks. Reassured that they were hunting for food.

Felt conflicted when they fledged…but joyous for them to finally have their freedom.

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