The Eagle

We are hiking the Olympic Peninsula, enamored by the beauty. It’s absolutely amazing how much of God’s wonderful artwork exists in Washington State. As I breathe in the air and witness the sheer scale of the Puget Sound, I am grateful and wonderfully entranced by this spectacular design. Why would all this beauty be entrusted to us? Does nature truly believe we are capable of protecting and conserving its magnificent resources? It has to be given from love; my only conclusion. There would be no reason to endow us with such gifts if wasn’t love.

Trying to describe God or Mother Nature seems futile. We are limited by our language, unable to fully articulate exactly what we see or experience. Our perceptions are constrained by our senses, and our senses are incapable of processing the sheer amount of information that exists in this limitless world. We absorb much more than we will ever know. We see forms and objects, but not the true nature of things. Often, we only glimpse nature’s raw beauty when we dream. It seems to see the world as it is, we have to either dream or die. That seems unfair.

An eagle flies over the water. I It looks my way as if to say, “I hear you, brother.” It continues across the ocean and slowly disappears into the trees; happy to have returned home. As we drive, the sky shines beautifully. The gods are happy; their time to play. The eagle returns to join them, dancing to the celestial music; overwhelmed with laughter. I look over at him, and once again, he flies away.

There are several places to hike and camp, so we move towards Flapjack Lake. We didn't anticipate the snow. We crossed a beautifully constructed bridge over a wide river. Gigantic trees surrounds us as snow falls from its branches. The temperature is below 40°F. I take a few pictures and a short video of the river. The eagle spots us again as we cross the bridge. He yells, “What are you doing?” Before I can answer, he flies north, looking back, smiling as he disappears through the trees.