Where Eagles Fly

May 27, 2012 by Tomigriffin
Where Eagles Fly
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Here I am it’s almost 5:00 AM but I have been awake awhile, playing on Facebook chatting with a good friend who is three times zones away in Texas. Why am I up so early? Many reasons: I am not on a particular schedule and I have exhausted myself with painting the old cabin. Four days and going so far; So I fell into bed early last night (again) in the hopes of reading 12th Night, or one of my other plays and or books etc I have going, and or, to write. But I guess that was not to be (again) as I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. And it is bloody light at night and too early in the morning so my physiology doesn’t really know what time it is!

So on the first day of Sam’s vacancy I mega cleaned the kitchen area of the old cabin whist listening to Sammy Hagar, mainly “Where Eagles Fly” which reminds me of Sam, and here at Wolf Creek, as eagles are continually flying past our windows and nesting in the trees ever so close to our house. You know the Dos Equis beer radio add? “His birdbaths attract eagles”. Well, they do.

I have missed 4 days of my glorious waterfall hike/dance/meditate to put my mind and body to the quest of old cabin clean-up. I know I will be happy with it when I am done and I continue the workout with the ever so contortionist positions I have to get myself into to paint, hence the exhaustion and early bedtimes. My body feels like it has been run over by a steam engine (like I really know).

Sam is off working on the ferries. He did come home for a two hour surprise visit yesterday (they were docked in Ketchikan for a few, he just hopped into the plane and flew over he did). Nice, nice addition to me day, but I did not finish the paint job therefore have at least another day of it (and that’s just the kitchen area!) I did mention to Sam that it now looks more like I live here than him and he ever so sweetly said, “What’s wrong with that?” It has been years since I have labored on this place (the past two summers we have been working on the new cabin). It was summer 2004 that I hand-made the window valances, and each year I add to the photo/picture frame history, but I have never painted it here and it needed it (although I must admit it wasn’t my idea, it was Sam’s. I have done enough painting lately, but I can’t resist a make-over and or a chance to decorate, so here I am).

After a day of painting to Sammy Hagar’s greatest hits according to me, Mo and I switched to shuffling the myriad of music my mate mixed unto mine ipod. Some of it I didn’t even know I had! I love the different places I am taken to with each different piece. Then marvelous Mo up/downloaded Michael Jackson’s Essentials, yeah! That’s what I get to listen to today, that and the sounds of the roaring creek making electricity, and the cries of the eagles and or other birds that are indigenous, or the passing float planes (If they are close enough I step out and wave, Mo says I should moon but… or should I say butt?). Every once in a while a boat passes, fishermen and or, the Inter Island Ferry twice a day (not the one Sam is on).

The funny thing about clean up around here, mostly dust, dirt and spider evidence, is when I leave a room I want to turn out the lights. Just habit from home in AZ where Steve Nash is there ready to beam you in the head with a basketball if you don’t conserve energy. Well here the water flows down hill whether we’re using it or not, so Sam prefers the lights left on in the house, something to do with regulating the electricity. (We can also let the water run if we want to, we can Steve).

When we take breaks and sit in our whale watching spot I remind Mo of our fortune. I remember sitting with a friend on an island off of Bellingham Washington once, and he said, “I wonder what the poor people are doing today?” Mo asked what that meant. It means we are lucky Mo.

I often dream I sail through the sky

I’ve always wished I could fly

The simple life of a bird on the wing

Oh Lord, I could sing

Take me away

Come on fly me away

Lift me up so high

Where eagles fly~ Sammy Hagar

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Where Eagles Fly
Painting the cabin
Where Eagles Fly
Wolf Creek from an eagle's POV