The majesty of eagles

The Spring weather was going to cool a bit so disparate masses of air collided over my cities and created wind. Lots of wind, all night long. And then in the morning everything was cleared out; the dust, and the smoke, the motes, the just getting started pollen, and the clouds. Nothing was left. The sun froze brightly and the blue was revealed behind blue behind blue behind blue.

And I looked up high into the sky and there was a Bald Eagle. He was illuminated by the sun, made more vivid and absolute. He circled over the river, climbing into the sky while barely twitching a muscle. Large and small at the same time he was the whole world up there, perfectly detailed in the distance.

Then, to my surprise, he shit. 

The shit was large and white and vivid in the powerful light. Like a sinister jewel it floated down the sky. It trickled, it drifted, it floated. I think it is still falling. Any minute now, or hour, or day, and it will reach the ground. Its fall is inevitable, just... stately, regal, and majestic.

Watch your head.