Angels, Eagles, and Flights of Fancy
Sighting a bald eagle in the city seemed like a sign from the heavens
We drove to the funeral. My husband was behind the wheel. In the backseat, our daughter and two of her cousins, all of them young adults visiting from New York City, sat talking. We reached a point where the freeway raises up so that the car’s side windows filled with the view of the high rises of downtown Minneapolis.
And then it appeared.
“An eagle!”
We spotted it instantaneously, all of us except my husband who, thankfully, kept his eyes on the road. The bird appeared to be flying almost at our height, parallel to the speeding car, so all I saw was a majestic bald eagle suspended against a surreal background of sparkling glass buildings.
“It’s grandpa,” the three kids said at once.
And then it was gone.
We were on our way to Fort Snelling cemetery to bury my father, a World War II era veteran. The unexpected sight of a patriotic symbol flying alongside the car as though escorting us felt divine.
And then my practical side kicked in. Urban eagles are not that rare. There’s an island in the Willamette River that flows through downtown Portland, Oregon where I live. Big messy eagle nests are visible in several trees. I’ve even spotted…
