I’ve heard the other nest fell as well, said my neighbor, Stephanie, and I could scarcely believe my ears.

You probably know I’m talking about the giant eagle nests in our neighborhood. One is (ahem, was) in tall pine just across a tiny cove from our yard. The other, located deeper in the woods, had served as the Spring home sweet home for our Eagle couple and their three gigantic babies.

But perhaps I should back up so you get the whole of the story.

This is our eagle nest, circa 2008:

This is the Eagle nest today.

How on earth, you might be wondering, could that happen?

That old, tall pine had some brittle bones that simply couldn’t take the toll of time and weather. And then those babies came along in March, and—Good Lord—things would never be the same. Leaving the healthier “home” nest, the family of five came out of the woods for some afternoon fun. Mama decided the old nest—aka our nest—was the perfect spot for a little afternoon feeding.

Those babies took to fighting over that food like nobody’s business, and before you knew it, half of the nest just fell right to the ground.

(Neveryoumind those babies hardly seemed to notice, screaming and clawing for that daily fish catch like they were starving to death.)

And there went the rest of the nest.

I've taken to calling him Hording Harry. Don't think he ever learned "share."

I saw that nest fall, and I grieved. With it gone, I feared the Eagles would soon be gone, as well.

 But oh, no. That is not what happened.