The female was there when I tuned in, and her life reminded me of mine with a newborn – there’s feeding, housekeeping, keeping the kid(s) warm and dry, and waiting for Daddy to get home. So she spent quite a long time trying to remove a branch between the nursery and the pantry, gave up, and pluncked down on top of the little gray furballs for a while. Finally, when the cheeping became pretty loud, she went to the pantry (climbing over the annoying branch) and tore off some unmentionable strips of food for the chicks.
Finally the male arrived. They conferred a bit, and the female left. Ignoring the chicks’ protests, he went directly to the branch, moving it easily with one strong beak tug. (This reminds me of the first time I ever heard the phrase “honey do list,” at an all-male workshop in South Carolina – for a while I had no idea what they were talking about, and when I figured it out, found its sex-stereotyping highly irritating. But I guess eagles do it too, but since the male eagle is smaller than the female, this is even more striking.) Then he settled down, nestling the chicks underneath, looking with mean eagle eyes at all the geese honking by.
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