bald eagle

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That’s what we saw last weekend on our drive to the vineyard. The bald eagles up in trees along the Columbia River—I counted four within a 50-yard distance, could’ve been more—off of I-84, right before our turn-off. The flock of wild turkeys were less than five-minutes later, off in a stand of trees, along 8-Mile, us just into the twists and turns of the road as it followed the meandering of the creek. There must have been a couple dozen of them along the water’s banks. Lined up eagles and a flock of turkeys. A national symbol and a national meal. Quite an ornithological dichotomy within minutes of one another. What does this mean?

All you rational people will say, “You’re in the Pacific Northwest, ferchirssakes, and so happened upon these feathered friends in their natural environment. What, do you think they were waiting there for you?!” No I don’t think they were (ha!) but I believe with this poignant showing of nature, there is something to take from it.

Thinking about life right now, there’s no denying the stress of trying to find those people who appreciate a more individual wine. So many “what’s all this for?” moments as we dip our feet into the industry and find out how hard it is to swim upstream when everyone’s swimming down. The closed minds of people are beginning to numb our own, and I wonder, have our heads dropped to the ground, like those turkeys pecking along the stream bank, unaware of the broader picture, or, on a more positive note, is it simply focusing on the task at hand? And what about the eagles? Are they there to remind us to keep our heads up, and not lose sight of the bigger picture? Or perhaps, and pardon the cheesiness, that we should soar above all the turkeys out there?! Or maybe it’s just to scavenge what we can and feast on it. I don’t know. I only know it was quite a mix of birds that day.

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