Scree . . . whoosh . . .
just as I look out my window, a bald eagle swoops and dives, talons grasping a fish from our neighborhood lake. A rare enough event, but the chills came because I was on the phone with my late Dad’s income tax preparer, who is sad to hear of his death and telling me what a character he was.
He changed his answering machine message often, always ending with, “God bless America!”
The very first time I saw a bald eagle was while on the phone with him, and tears came fast to my eyes.
Since his death, I’ve hungered for some sign from the other side. No lingering presence or dream images have come. He is truly gone.
So, pardon me for projecting human desire onto wildlife.
Whoosh . . . scree . . .

photos are from a swamp tour in Louisiana (not Parkwood Lake)


Blaise Kielar received Honorable Mention in the 2022 Alex Albright Creative Nonfiction Prize for an excerpt from his memoir in progress, "Be Heard: The Quiet Kid Who Started the World’s Loudest Violin Shop." He opened Chapel Hill’s first violin shop in 1978 and retired from a music retail career by transitioning Electric Violin Shop into the first worker-owned co-op music store in the United States. He plays jazz violin and clarinet in several bands and leads the Bulltown Strutters, Durham’s community New Orleans brass band.

One Comment

  1. Cathy Kielar

    I know Frank is now a proud and brave bald eagle. Gone from his frail human body, he is now swooping and diving with all of life.

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