Eagles and Farewells 1

I saw what I think was a bald eagle today, deep in suburban North Wilmington, Delaware.

I was out jawboning with one of my neighbors (soon to be an ex-neighbor when I finish packing stuff up and throwing stuff out–no more back-and-forth) in the way of making a farewell, and this bird flew–well, really, it just sort of drifted–overhead at low altitude, maybe 50 feet.

I won’t miss Delaware all that much, though it is a very nice place to live and is actually quite well run. Delaware has a fortunately low wingnut quotient and is small enough that no one can get away with anything especially sleazy for very long. Heck, I used to run into my governor at PTA meetings because his son went to the same school as my son. He came without any kind of entourage or body guard. That’s small.

My kids are scattered and all my exes live in Texas (yes, they do).

My friends meet Tuesdays for Drinking Liberally in Philly, but they are all also on line, as is much of my life. I will miss Tuesdays more than they realize.

I will miss my neighbors. They have been good neighbors for a quarter century.

But returning to Virginia is returning to family roots that reach almost 400 years. It’s home in a way that many persons in our mobile society cannot understand. Not to mention my friend who I re-met after 40 years.

You can take the Virginian out of Virginia, but you can’t take Virginia out of a Virginian.

But if my friend were elsewhere, I’d be heading there.

Back to the boid:

I wish I’d had my camera or even my camera phone on me, but I didn’t. The bird looked just like this:

I said to the neighbor, “I think that’s an eagle.” She said, “Nooooo.” I said, “Look at the white head and tail.”

And we just watched it sail down the street.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.