© Jodi DeLong. All rights reserved

Scarcely a day passes, from late fall until early spring, when I do not witness the flight of eagles over my home in Delhaven, under the brooding promontory of Cape Blomidon. It doesn't matter that I see the immense birds daily, winging their haughty and breathtaking way across the grey-wooled sky, heading to their night roost somewhere behind me on the North Mountain,
or en route to one of the feeding stations situated in my rural community.

The thrill remains the same as it did the first time I saw one. We're fortunate to live in a place which eagles have decided is a good place to spend the winter. Being opportunists who would rather eat carrion that is found or provided for them than to hunt for themselves, more than four hundred eagles now frequent eastern Kings county, which is also home to 90 percent of the poultry producers of Nova Scotia.

While this largest of North American raptors has a reputation for being shy and even reclusive, the eagles that populate my neighbourhood give the lie to that tale. Often one can approach them as they perch in one of the large "eagle trees" of the area, as they digest their meal or survey their domain for other offerings or just socialize. On several occasions, while on
horseback, I have come within a few metres of them and have been able to watch them and their escort of ravens for some time. This is perhaps because they regard my four-legged friend not as an interloper but merely as another aspect of the food chain.

The eagle's physical structure, with the bony ridge over its great yellow eyes, gives the bird its haughty, majestic appearance, seen in so many sketches and photographs and studies of the bird. Yet if you watch one on the ground, with its peculiar rolling, almost bowlegged gait, or see several squabbling over a particularly tasty tidbit, the eagle's reputation for majesty takes a tumble.

Just perhaps, our interest in bald eagles reflects a sense of responsibility for the future of the eagle, and the fate of so many other creatures. Humans have been responsible for the declining population of the bald eagle. It was once widely regarded as a pest and, as with other birds of prey, ruthlessly shot for its hunting habits. In many locales, its habitat is being drained for development, and many of the large trees that offer shelter and roosting spots have fallen to the axes of the tree harvesters.
Even more detrimental have been the effects of toxic pollutants and pesticides, the most notorious of which was the once widely-used DDT. This pesticide was sprayed on crop lands throughout the country and its residues washed into lakes and streams. These residues were then absorbed by aquatic plants and small animals which in turn were eaten by fish, which were consumed by bald eagles. The unnatural chemicals contaminating the fish interfered with the eagle's ability to develop strong shells for its eggs. As a result, bald eagles, peregrine falcons, and many other species began laying eggs with shells so thin they often broke during incubation or otherwise failed to hatch.

Their reproduction disrupted, bald eagle populations plummeted. As the dangers of DDT became known, in large part due to Rachel Carson's famous book Silent Spring, this chemical was banned for most uses in Canada and the United States in the early 1970s. It is ironic that the national bird of our neighbour to the South is still listed as endangered or threatened in most
of the coterminous United States.

Happily, Nova Scotia, with a relatively stable and thriving population, has helped to reestablish eagles in some parts of the States. But successful repopulation depends on responsible action by people, in creating and maintaining wildlife habitats, in respecting other species besides our own, and in recognizing that we are all part of one ecosystem. There are guidelines available from the Department of Natural Resources for the protection of eagle nest trees and breeding habitats, and we're learning more about these great birds, thanks in part to the studies of wildlife biologists who come to learn what they can from our over wintering population.

Eastern Kings County has the largest over wintering population of bald eagles in eastern North America, and hundreds of people come to view and photograph the birds as they feed, roost, and even play in flight. But at the same time as we learn more about the birds and can rejoice in their increasing population stability, eagle-watchers bear a responsibility towards both the birds, in not unduly disturbing them, and toward the landowners on whose land the birds feed and roost.