As with many birds,
bald eagle populations declined rapidly as a result of human persecution and pesticide use, particularly of DDT. Although early North American explorers had reported them as abundant, by the mid-1900s sightings of the birds in the United States were rare.
Ironically, the bird Congress selected as our national emblem in 1782 was threatened with extinction. Listed for protection under the Endangered Species Act of 1973, it has recovered dramatically since the 1980s, and now has breeding populations in almost all of the contiguous United States, as well as all of the Canadian provinces.
The bald eagle is one of the largest North American birds of prey, second only to the California condor. It can reach a length of more than 3 feet, weigh as much as 14 pounds, and have a wingspan up to 8 feet. The dazzling white head and tail of an adult, in contrast to its almost black body, make this bird an imposing, majestic sight.
No wonder that Congress chose this bird over the wild turkey, as Benjamin Franklin had suggested.
Bald eagles are generally monogamous, mating for life unless one of the pair dies. Both the male and female care for the young, sharing incubation, and later, feeding duties. Observers have noted they are particularly gentle when moving about in the nest, walking very carefully with clenched feet, so as not to harm the eggs with their large talons.
The eagles return to the same nest site year after year, adding material to an already existing nest. The bulky mass of branches and twigs can therefore reach tremendous proportions. One famous nest in Ohio was used for an astounding 34 years. It grew to have a diameter of almost 7 feet and was more than 9 feet high; it was estimated to weigh more than a ton.
The pair engages in spectacular courtship displays, diving, cartwheeling, and roller-coastering through the sky. Observers have also noted what appears to be play between eagles, which included passing sticks to each other in midair.
There is an excerpt from a favorite book of mine relating to this activity. In “Season at the Point: The Birds and Birders of Cape May,” Jack Connor wrote: “An adult bald eagle, huge black wings and bright white head, soared over them. A few moments later a second adult flapped into sight and joined it in the sky. Soon the two birds were calling to each other in their high-pitched voices and exchanging sticks in the air. ‘Now,’ said Nicholson, ‘doesn’t that just rejuvenate your soul?'”
This column is dedicated to all the victims of the disaster, their families and friends, and to all of us who struggle to maintain normalcy, kindness, and peace in our lives.
Chris Corio, a volunteer at Fields Pond Nature Center, can be reached at fieldspond@juno.com.
Comments
comments for this post are closed