I have been keeping an eye on the Big Bear Valley eagles, which are under surveillance. Now I do feel some ambivalence about this. What, I wonder, gives us humans the right to stick a web cam (or maybe two) in the vicinity of an eagle’s nest, particularly a breeding nest. Women giving birth to children would not put up with this, and rightfully so.

Eagle at night with infrared camera

But on the other hand, my occasionally checking in on the nest has alerted me to the fact that raising an eagle’s raising young is no easy matter. The mates have to cooperate with one another. And the eagles have to deal with very harsh conditions. The last two evenings that I’ve looked, one of the eagles, and I do not know if it is male or a female, has remained in the snow-covered nest, head tucked under a wing.

Yesterday it was windy and the feathers were blowing some. Tonight, the nest area is windless, and the bird’s feathers are not moving. I saw the bird ruffle its feathers once, so I guess it’s not dead. If the bird died, I would feel bad. Such effort and hard work – I hope not for naught.

Seeing photos in the New York Times, mainly people in body bags. I should feel the way I feel about the eagles. But I don’t and I don’t know why.

I once saw a newspaper photo of a refugee, an older woman, she was in a wheelbarrow, and supposedly being taken somewhere. Now I did feel for her – and right then for all refugees – such hardship.

There is relatively little hardship in my life. Everyone has some. Even, I suppose, the very rich. This is just the nature of life. Catholics say that what doesn’t make you weaker makes you stronger. Catholicism is not a joyous religion. I need to find one that is joyous.

Life would be more joyous if there were fewer people around, and those fewer had concern and compassion for one another.

I say, get it where you can. And also, share it with others.

Windy snow blowing, tree branches swaying, snow coming in wisps off the roofs. Amazingly, it wasn’t that cold; temperatures were in the low 30s when I went outside. Four inches of snow had fallen. The manure was covered. So I retreated inside for a while, worked on my list of phone calls for tomorrow. I am wanting to send books to Bethel. And I am wanting to get the bird event going. Maybe this is because the eagles are on my mind.

Finally, midafternoon – Pete rode Tyra and I rode Raudi. We walked down to the Murphy Road turnoff and cantered back to the Murphy Road/Oceanview Road intersection. I never thought I’d see the day when Tyra would willingly canter. She’s nine – I never did push her to do this. She now thinks that this is fun. Raudi also moved out, at times a little faster than I expected.

Next: 90. 4/1/25: Har Har Day