Young Eagles and Geometry

photo by brandychloe, Webshots

April 12, 2006

Mel and I were talking this morning about my blog, Dying to Self. As conversations often do, we wandered around though several different subjects that intersected at specific points with the subject of justification and sanctification. (He is of the opinion that most of my struggle has to do with confusing the two.) We chatted about the fact that when we are born again (justified), we truly are like newborn babies spiritually. That digressed into a short discussion on the difference between animals and humans, being sentient and non-sentient.

I commented that I think we will be very surprised when we get to heaven and find out how much animals really do know and understand, that they do not merely exist, but really do “think.” Of course, not as we do – we are made in the image of God! But I have often thought – how do we know if animals think deep thoughts or not? They can’t talk, they can’t write – they can’t tell us what they are thinking. We just assume they don’t think. In an example, Mel said, “Animals don’t do geometry.” And I responded, “Of course they do! Maybe not to study it out like we do in a classroom, but they have to know enough geometry to catch their prey. ‘The antelope is over there,’ thinks Mrs. Tiger. ‘It will probably run in that direction, and since it looks weakened, will probably run at X speed. Therefore, I need to run at such and such an angle to catch him. My kids need to eat!” Well, I didn’t go into that complicated of an answer, but its fun to write it out now!

The conversation took a turn into the subject of how every young animal, and humans as well, must learn and practice, practice, practice to succeed at whatever it is they need to do to survive. Mel looked at me and said, “Just remember that eagle in Yukon Territory!” Immediately, in my mind I was back on the Alaska Highway.

We planned a support-raising trip to Bozeman, Montana, in late April or early May 1997. We knew that before too long we would be in Ukraine and God only knew when we would be able to go to Alaska again and see family. Since Montana is on the way to Alaska (at least from Colorado), we decided that when the missions conference was over, we would just head north. We talked to our three children and asked them if there was any way they could go with us. Kara worked about 32 hours a week and was a full time student at the University of Colorado, Colorado Springs. Peter worked full time at Young Life. Both of them decided to take vacation time and fly up to Anchorage and meet us there. Andrew was free and decided that he could travel with us. Plans were finalized, plane tickets were bought, the van was made ready – and we set out on our trip north.

Bright and early Monday morning after the missions conference ended, Andrew and I, with Mel driving, left Bozeman and headed north toward Canada. It was a magical trip. Mel loves to drive and the roads were good, with not much traffic. We spent that first night camping near Edmonton, Alberta. The second night found us camping out near Fort St. John, but the third night there was so much snow and it was so cold, we ended up renting a motel room for the night in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. Oh so many memories of that trip! Late April/early May was the perfect time to travel the Alaska Highway because there were so few people on the road! Mile after mile with no other vehicle in sight. We saw many wild animals – caribou, mountain goats, and even several bears. Yukon is incredibly beautiful – miles and miles of nothing but forests, mountains, rivers and the road ever stretching out in front of us, winding here and there around lakes and deep river canyons. Oh, I would love to take that trip again! I am so thankful that I have the memories of it that I can revisit over and over again.

Our time in Alaska was good. Too much to write about here as that is not my subject! At the end of the month, we put Kara on a plane to fly back to Colorado, and Andrew, Mel and I – with Peter joining us for the return trip, repacked our van and headed south. Oh what a different trip that was! A month is a long time in the Arctic. The snow was totally gone, wildflowers were blooming and there were fewer animals to be seen from the road. Part of the reason was because the highway now was filled with RV after RV after truck with camper after RV. And a few cars sprinkled in here and there to add some variety and color. Oh my! But the scenery was still just as beautiful and Peter was able to see it and enjoy it with us.

The first day out, we crossed the border from Alaska into Canada. Because it was June, it never really got totally dark at night, so we drove on until we came to a campground located beside a beautiful little lake. I had been to this particular campground several years earlier with my sister, Heidie. I had good memories of it and our time there – also something for another blog, that trip with her! We found a camp spot and parked for the night.

The next morning, after a breakfast of pancakes and bacon cooked over a wood fire (ambrosia!), we took our time getting ready to leave. All four of us walked for a little bit on a trail that followed the shoreline, but because of time restraints, turned back before we had gone too far. The lake was beautiful with crystal clear turquoise water. Near the shore, the sand was white and because the water was so clean, we could clearly see black rocks sprinkled here and there on the bottom for several yards out into the lake.

Mel suddenly said, “Look! There is an eagle!” And sure enough, flying above us and over the lake was a young bald eagle. Because he was so young, he had no white feathers yet, but was almost a solid brown. He circled around the lake several times, looking for his breakfast fish. Suddenly he dived. Eagles dive like this thousands of times in their lives. It’s an amazing process to watch. I’ve seen it on television nature channels several times, in slow motion. The eagle dives and then turns his body angle just enough so that his feet, with talons extended, skim the water and pluck the fish right out. Breakfast! Then eagle and fish fly off to a nearby tree.

Young Eagle dived. Swiftly down, wings back, feet extended and wham! That was a lucky fish! Clear water is hard to judge – where does it actually begin? Young Eagle found out the hard way. Instead of deftly plucking the fish up and out of the water, he hit the water too soon – and stopped very suddenly. We four humans stood on the shore, watching Young Eagle resurface and then just float there for several minutes. Head up, eyes looking around, wings expanded out and away from his body – it took all of that time for him to recover from the shock of his sudden swim and to process what he had done wrong. We started laughing. We couldn’t help ourselves. We all have done things just like that! And he looked so embarrassed, floating out there in the water.

After resting and recuperating, he suddenly pushed off with his wings and flew up out of the water, straight over to a nearby dead tree. High in the uppermost branches he sat, a dark brown very wet young eagle, drying himself in the warm sun of a cornflower blue sky. He held his wings bent out and away from his body, giving his wing-pits opportunity to dry out, and very much resembled a roosting vulture. He was still there when we finished packing the van and drove away.

Practice! Practice! Think it through, and try again.

How like that young eagle I am! I’ll get it figured out.