The old eagle perches grandly on his treetop eyrie and peers out across the shoreline. His sight has become somewhat lessened with age. As he takes to the air, he lifts without the spring in his once muscular legs that used to give him that initial height and his wings take the burden of his weight.
He soars out over the shore and drops rapidly to snag a fish for his morning sustenance. Feeling a surge of energy from the food, he soars out to open waters and into a darkening sky. The wind assists in lift and he soars with the heart of a young eagle.
The sky continues to darken and flashes of lightning appear alarmingly close. The wind becomes less of an assistance as it churns the lake below and becomes a drag against the old eagle’s body. He suddenly senses he is weakened. Rain pelts his body as he slowly arcs back toward the shore. He becomes disoriented and is tumbled about in the strong gales of wind. Suddenly, ahead of him, he sees..can it be?..his mate, who has long since left his side. She once again takes the lead position, a position familiar to him as he always took the rear to protect her in flight.
The old eagle is tired and falls back. As he slows his mate circles back and encourages him to follow her and keep pace. With one final burst of speed the old eagle glides to the shore and lands on the rocky beach. He takes a few faltering steps and collapses. His mate stands at his side sheltering him from the battering storm with her wing in a near caress. The old eagle gives one last shuddering breath and all is still.