I was privileged to welcome summer this year with an incredibly kind and thoughtful circle of near strangers on the banks of the Blackfoot River in Montana. After days of paddling and camping in the cold and damp, there was reason to celebrate. We shared solstice offerings as the afternoon sun melted the chill that had crept into our bones.
As we honored and basked in the glow of the golden hour, a bald eagle swept in and joined us. I would love nothing more than to hear how each of those new friends would describe that moment. I still can’t find the words for what I felt.
I remember that afterward, the extremely generous Chris La Tray taught us that eagle in Ojibwe is Migizi, and that he is love.
This morning I was walking with the dogs along another river, called the Iowa, wondering what else it has been called and what it would call itself. Although, I’m pretty sure its language is too elegant to be captured by any alphabet I know. Starved of water and polluted with garbage, it manages to transform even trash and deadfall into trance-inducing sonic ripples.
I wonder if ASMR videos are a thing because people need the peace of these subtle sounds and we don’t go outside anymore?
Nearly overnight, silvery rafts have formed all the way across the water, except for a small gap at the bend. Even Roscoe the dog stands still a moment, perking his ears to the delicate crinkles of shifting ice.
The river oxbows here, and the current’s flow preserves a narrow opening in the ice; one of few prime fishing spots left in this season. The fish bring the eagles, and finally this morning I look up to see a dozen skeptical eyes tracking Roscoe as he cavorts through the brush below in oblivious, bouncing bliss.
I wonder where they come from, whether they know the eagles of Montana. I thank them for bringing love to this place, and marvel that at the height of sunshine, I needed that love just as desperately as I do on this darkest day.
I think of the far-flung strangers (friends?), that other river, those other eagles with whom I spent the year’s other solstice. I pray that love comes to them too, despite the darkness.
Nora, that trip was a highlight of my year and I'm happy you were part of it. ❤️
I felt that trip was a special new beginning. We wrote, we celebrated, we learned. It was an experience I will never forget. Yes, we made friends through our stories. Grateful.