Oysterville Eagles by Tucker Wachsmuth

     Our chickens aren’t too happy with us right now.  We’ve been keeping them cooped up – literally.  Not that they actually have to stay inside the coop, itself.  Outside their quarters the girls have free access to a nice run which is fully protected from predators.  But it’s pretty boring compared to all the intriguing possibilities of the garden beyond.  Most of the day, all seven ‘girls’ stand hopefully near the chicken wire fence and scold us unmercifully if we happen to approach the coop. 
     I’ve tried to explain to them about the eagles that are perched up in the Monterey Cyprus tree not more than 100 yards distant.  The chickens are having none of it.  I try to remind them that the other day those two big birds of prey were circling the garden, chirping their silly little cries, and looking quite interested in our free-range flock. It’s hard to talk sense to chickens.
     The eagles have been coming to that particular Cyprus tree for five or six years now.  From their high perch they have a great view of the bay, the meadows, and our chickens.  They are apt to hang around for a week or so and then they are off to another vantage point and we might not see them for a few months.  Mostly, they are here one at a time but, occasionally, we are lucky enough to have two of them visiting for the day.  We have no real evidence that they would try for one of our grown hens, but we are taking no chances.
     I remember a few years back when the residents of Seaside (or was it Warrenton?) were concerned when a nearby “eagle tree” had fallen in a storm.  The tree contained a huge eagle’s aerie that had been added to year after year, as is typical, and the nearby residents felt that it should be rescued and relocated.  They met to consider the problem.  (Eagle nests are huge.  They can be as 13 feet deep, 8 feet across, and can weigh up to a ton.)  The would-be rescuers decided to go have a first-hand look at the situation before deciding on the best relocation plan.
     When they approached the nest, they were horrified to find a number of dog and cat collars within its depths – a brutal reminder of neighborhood pets lost over the years.  The enthusiasm for the relocation project lost considerable steam at that point.  I can’t remember the final outcome.  In fact, as I write this, the story almost sounds like an urban legend.  Nevertheless, while our eagles are on watch, our chickens will remain cooped up.  It seems the prudent thing to do.