An Eagle is able to see far and clearly, and is very curious.

 

 

FLIGHT OF THE EAGLE

By

Esther and Richard Provencher

 

 

COPYRIGHT:

 

© 2014-2021 Esther & Richard Provencher

Dester Publications. All rights reserved.

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Adam was quite excited as grandma’s car exited from highway 101. He couldn’t wait to see some eagles! Now all they had to do was follow signs to the Eagle Watch weekend at Cannington, Nova Scotia.

Driving past the new Big Stop Irving station, his ten-year old eyes almost bugged out. Flapping in the wind was a monster Canadian flag. It must be the largest one in the whole world.

“Didya see that?” his older sister Melanie asked, poking his shoulder. She continued to point out the window, ignoring his quiet “Ouch.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” she said.

“Okay, now it’s my turn. Eagle Watch sign!” Adam shouted. He speared twelve-year old Melanie with his sharpest fingernail.

“That hurt,” his sister, said. “Besides, that’s not what I was talking about, muscle brain. The sign on the edge of the road has a drawing of an eagle.

“It even looks like you,” she teased.

Adam squeezed his right fist tightly. It turned into a battering ram of bone and muscle. One knuckle stuck out, preparing to attack.

It was too much for seven-year old Colin. He was nervous sitting in the middle of two wrestlers. “Gramma … Grampa. Make them stop.” He usually didn’t say much. Right now he was quite annoyed.

Then Melanie reached over and slammed Adam. A good one landed right between his shoulder blades. “Dork,” her tight-lipped mouth said.

“Did you have to SMUSH me so hard?” Adam gasped.

“Quit it you two,” grandpa said. “If you weren’t so busy having a boxing match you might notice that sign over there. There’s a lot of writing on it.”

“Sorry grandpa. Sorry grandma,” two voices mumbled from the back seat.

Colin rolled his eyes. What a bunch of fakes he thought.

“I really don’t know how sorry you both are,” grandma said. “We could go back home, you know. Now, do you want me to be a nice grandma and slow the car down? So you can read what the sign says.”

Three voices answered quickly, before you could count to three. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” was their statement of truce. No one wanted to go home, back to Truro. Their fun had barely begun.

Mom and dad couldn’t make it today. And the children didn’t want to stay home with a babysitter.

There was a large sign with a picture of an eagle and a printed message. Everyone read, “INFO STOP 9 KM AHEAD.”

“I like the drawing,” grandma said.

“This one actually looks like an eagle,” grandpa answered.

“Is that really what a baldy eagle looks like?” Colin asked. None of the children had ever seen one up close before, except on TV.

Their car hurried across the Cornwallis River Bridge.

Adam and Melanie looked around. “Hmmm…interesting,” they agreed. It was the children’s first trip to this part of the province.

“Most people call this whole area, ‘The Valley,’ “ grandma said. It was almost as if she could read her grandchildren’s minds. 

As they drove slowly along the winding road, Adam noticed mounds of hay covered in plastic.

“Not enough room for the hay in the barn,” grandpa volunteered. The see-through-material was held in place with tires scattered loosely on top. An orange-colored Combine machine sat silently in the field.

“It’s waiting patiently for the next crop of wheat to be cut,” Grandma said, smiling in Adam’s direction.

More ‘Eagle Watch’ signs led them past the First Cornwallis United Baptist Church. They turned right then a left before driving onto a small field. An ‘EAGLE INFO’ box provided more detailed information.

Grandpa picked out a photocopied map of the area. There was also a paper explaining why this weekend was so special. It reminded all tourists coming to see eagles, to also enjoy the scenery. Everyone was encouraged to drive to the ‘Look-Off’ on North Mountain. Glowing words read, “Prepare for a breathtaking view of Minas Basin.”  

“Only one map and information sheet left!” grandpa yelled, hurrying back to the warm car. “Must be quite a crowd ahead of us,” he added.

“Yup,” Colin confirmed.

“I wish dad was here to see the eagles,” Adam said. He wanted to see lots and lots today.

“Too bad mom couldn’t be here too,” Melanie said.

A few kilometers later they entered the little village of Sheffield Mills. Long lines of cars were parked on both sides of Middle Dyke Road.

“Someone around here sure knows how to draw,” grandma said. She nodded her approval at the wooden Sheffield Mills sign.

“And paint too,” Melanie piped up. “Look how pretty the colored letters are, grandma.”

“Not as nice as yours Gramma,” Colin boasted.

“Well, thank you,” she answered.

“Hurry up. I just want to see a whole bunch of eagles,” Adam said. He was getting quite impatient from their long ride.

 “Me too,” Colin said. “A whole bunch.”

“You mean flocks?” Grandpa corrected.

“You know what I mean,” Adam said shrugging his shoulders. He hated to be teased, or corrected. He flicked strands of dark hair from across his forehead. His brow furrowed into a frown.

Ahead of them, the little village was surrounded by land, flat as a tabletop. Hills stared from the distance, and frosty fields greeted the new arrivals. They turned onto the Kennedy property as suggested from their Info Map.

After parking the car alongside ten or twelve others the family noticed a bare looking tree. It was similar to one from a picture in the brochure. Except this one was totally stripped of all bark.

“The Eagle Tree!” everyone shouted, like a chorus on TV.

Adam turned his head as someone nearby spoke up.

“It is at that,” a man said, poking his head from the next car. “If this is your first visit, you’re in for a treat.” He kindly pointed out a good spot for the family to watch for eagles.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Adam could barely hide his disappointment. They were finally here in Sheffield Mills. So where were the eagles?

They should be hanging all over the branches belonging to that lonesome looking Eagle tree. That’s where the newspaper said they were supposed to be.

Without bark and leaves the oak tree looked alone and forgotten. A January wind whipped Adam’s face. Good thing he had on his winter cap, with furry earflaps. 

He pressed grandpa’s binoculars tightly against his eye sockets. His lenses should be able to spot some kind of flying images. Anything would do. But, there was nothing to see.

The story grandma read yesterday couldn’t have lied. It said up to 200 eagles could be seen during this Eagle Watch weekend.

Maybe it was just a science fiction story, Adam wondered. Or it could be a neat way to get tourists to visit and spend money in this little village. He knew he had to be careful with his overactive imagination.

How could he brag to his friends about all the eagles he saw? But that would be lying. No sense grumbling about it.

Taking his right glove off, Adam began chewing on his thumbnail. It helped him think.

“Hungry?“ is what dad usually asked. Then he would point to his own fingers and pretend to gobble them up. It almost made Adam gross out. Mom was clearer with her message. She simply scrunched up her face and said, “Please, not that again.”

Not being here, both couldn’t get upset. They had to go to Truro to see about dad’s new job. His father was quite excited about getting the position of General Manager at Staples Office Supplies.

Moving here from Ontario wasn’t quite as thrilling for Adam and Melanie. Leaving good friends behind was more than painful.

Colin didn’t seem to mind though. He knew how to make friends anywhere. It must be easier when you’re a little kid, Adam thought.

Finally, a few months ago it had sunk in. “We’re moving to Nova Scotia!” was the new family song. “Where grandma and grandpa live!!” they had shouted. That was the only good part at the time.

Right now grandma, grandpa, Melanie and Colin shivered beside him in the wind. They kept watching to see if he would shout out any success.

“My turn ‘shrimp,’ ” Melanie mumbled, grabbing at the binoculars.

“This must be the coldest day in the whole year,” Adam whined, handing them over. He couldn’t wait to grow taller, so he wouldn’t always have to look up at his sister. It was hard on his neck.

That’s what they called him at school, “Shrimp.”

“Now-Now,” grandma Esther usually said. Or else, she would cluck her tongue at any negative thinking. This time she didn’t do either. Her scrunched up eyes and scowling face did all the talking.