Yesterday was the first day of the season working in the youth garden at the National Arboretum. Something made me look up. A bald eagle perhaps 40-50 feet overhead before soaring higher. “Look; follow my finger,” I called to my fellow gardeners, pointing to where the great bird was flying. They all looked up, and we shared a moment of awe.
“What made me notice?” one of my companions asked. I could not say exactly. I could have seen it’s shadow or perhaps even, without hearing it well enough to identify the sound, heard the wind in the eagle’s feathers. Or perhaps just instinct.
