Blessed by a Bald Eagle

Last night I wasn't sure if I was going to make it back home to Fargo after spending the Thanksgiving holiday with my sister in Pennsylvania. I knew a winter storm was coming across the Plains, but as I prepared to fly out of the Philadelphia airport, it did not appear that my connecting flight in Chicago was delayed. However, after boarding, our plane did not move for 30 minutes due to lack of a captain. Now I was worried that I would miss my connecting flight in Chicago. About 30 of us were in danger of missing connecting flights, so other passengers allowed us to exit first. I ran to my gate, thinking I had about a 50/50 chance of making it before they closed the door. When I got to the gate, huffing and puffing, I found out that flight was delayed--hurray! I would make it! We boarded, but then this plane also did not take off. Just when I thought they were cancelling due to weather, the captain announced that they just had to sign off on some "maintenance paperwork," and we would be on our way--hurray! More waiting on the runway ensued. Again, I worried we would just head back to the gate. Then the captain announced, "We are cleared for take off. It will be a bumpy flight, so please keep your seatbelts on." We flew into the storm. Indeed, it was a bumpy flight. I had just started to fall asleep when, Bam! We landed hard on the runway in Fargo. It was midnight, and the wind was blowing hard, making the snow fly horizontally instead of falling vertically. Enrico expertly maneuvered our Prius through the snowy streets. I was glad to make it home, and fell asleep dreaming of skiing the next morning...

I woke up as it was getting light, and eagerly looked out the window--nice big drifts of snow and clearing skies! I had a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and an egg, brought Enrico a cup of coffee and prepared to go out for my first ski in 6 weeks. It was still windy as the storm clouds departed, but not too cold out--about 15 degrees F. I took the waxless touring skis out to break trail.

It was slow going with snow drifting up to mid-calf or higher in places. However, I was just happy to be out--nothing like cross-country skiing to recover from air travel. It was about 9am when I started, and I didn't see another person until I got to Lindenwood Park, where I saw someone out snowshoeing. As I got near the bridge that leads from Lindenwood to Gooseberry Park, I saw a large bird in the distance. From the way it flapped its wings, I thought it might be an eagle. Usually I would ski eagerly toward it to get a better look, but this time I just stayed still and watched as it tacked back and forth across the river, each time getting a bit closer. Yes, it was a bald eagle. I watched, entranced as it got closer and closer, until it flew right over my head. For a long second, it looked at me, and I looked at it. Then it tilted, flapped its wings and rode the wind again to the other side of the river. I watched it continue this way downriver, back and forth, gliding then flapping. Maybe looking for fish in the open water. I felt blessed by this eagle and continued on my way with an extra spring in my stride.

When I got into the woods, I came onto a spot where the floodwaters had not yet receded from the ski trail. I tried to remember what this spot looked like in summer, and stayed on the higher ground to avoid getting my skis wet.

Soon after that, I encountered another set of ski tracks. Glancing at my Apple watch, I saw that I had been skiing for an hour already--talk about slow going! I turned back, eager to enjoy a faster pace skiing back in my own tracks, and that was the case for awhile, but as I got to Ponte Park, it had been long enough since I passed that way that my ski tracks had already been filled in with snow by the unrelenting wind. The stretch from there to the water treatment plant was just as hard going coming back as it was going out.

The sun came out on my way back, and my tracks had already been filled in by the wind.

I extended my ski by breaking a little skijoring trail to enjoy with Noko later. I got back in at 11am, pleased that my fall workouts allowed me to be able to ski for 2 hours continuously, except, of course, a few moments to snap these photos.

I hope that the snow doesn't melt, and this is the beginning of continuous skiing for the whole winter.