A bald eagle observes a pair of fishermen. Written for the daily flash contest
I stood on an outcrop of a high cliff, one talon tucked under my plumage to keep it warm while I watched with interest the two occupants of a flimsy wooden boat far below. Interest, and a degree of amusement. They'd been there all morning, and so far, hadn't caught a single minnow. Amateurs.
One of the humans looked up and swept its eyes around the sky. The three of us were the only living things above the water's surface.
"Hey, look," it said. "A Bald Eagle!"
The other human followed its companion's blunt talon, pointed in my direction. I kept a wary eye on them, but I was there to catch lunch for my chicks. I hesitated, torn between my maternal and survival instincts. I was safe on my cliff, but my chicks were only days old.
Eventually, the humans gave up and headed for the shore, apparently pleased they'd caught a mosquitofish or two. Definitely amateurs! I launched myself off the cliff, caught a thermal and soared high into the sky. I circled, wings outstretched and eyes fixed on the water. Further downstream from where the humans had sat in their boat, was a school of trout. I stooped, blackish-brown wings folded and talons outstretched. My yellow feet hit the water with a splash and clenched around my first victim. It was a youngster - not enough for the chicks, but it would do as a snack for myself. I ate it on the wing, then concentrated once again on the fish just below the lake's surface.
My next catch was much bigger than the first. Almost full-grown, of the biggest I could carry. Yes, this one would feed the kids very well. I returned home, triumphant.