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Wylie, a majestic eagle, perched atop a wooden pole, gazing
down at the boggy moor below. A cold wind blew across the land. Wylie’s
talons clung to the pole as the cold blasted his feathers. As he looked
off in the distance he could see rain and snow blowing all directions. The
ancient monuments dotting the land were undefined, even the mountain could
not be made out.
Wylie waited patiently for the winds to die down so he
could hunt for something to eat. He thought about what would taste
delicious to him; a fish from the river, perhaps a plump, juicy lizard, a
slithering snake, a salmon or trout, or even a furry fox? They all sounded
tasty.
As the last of the fierce winds died down, Wylie was able
to make out the shape of a pine tree not too far away. A few minutes later
he could see it perfectly clear. The storm had passed. It was time for
hunting.
He lifted his wings and wind-blown dirt fell from his
feathers. His huge wingspan spread for several feet. He flapped them up
and down, released his talons, and flew off into the patchy blue sky. As
he soared high above, he saw a lizard scurrying across the moor towards a
pile of large stones. He swooped down to catch it, but it ran too quickly
and soon found safety. Wylie landed on the spongy land sand and stared at
the hole where the lizard had run into. How was he going to get it now, he
wondered. He tried to move the stones with his sharp talons but they
wouldn’t budge. As he stood there thinking, the lizard stuck its head out
from between the stones. Wylie quickly bent his head down and tried to
grab it with his curved beak, but the lizard ducked back inside too
quickly.
After a few minutes Wylie hopped up on top of the stones
and stood there thinking. How was he going to catch the lizard?
Frustrated and unable to come up with a solution, he flapped his wings and
flew off.
As he gazed down from high, he noticed that everything was
covered with a thick layer of snow or ice from the storm. How would he
ever find something to eat? He soared back and forth swooping down for a
closer look when he thought he saw something move, but the day was passing
quickly and he was getting hungrier and hungrier.
He flew over and landed on top of one of an ancient burial
mound. He could see for miles from up there. He saw the river flowing
rapidly towards the sea. Along its banks grew bright yellow tulips and
white daisies with little yellow centers. Wylie could see branches and
twigs floating along the edges of the water. He saw the moor, nothing
else, just a damp emptiness.
Maybe he’d be able to find something to eat closer to the
river. He flapped his wings and soared from the rounded top of the ancient
mound, towards the sparkling waters of the river. As he looked down he saw
all kinds of animals running around. There were mice, snakes, wild cats,
cows, and even a few sheep and fox. As he soared high above the waters he
could see the river teaming with fish and many other birds.
He tipped his head down, pulled his wings in tightly to his
sides and swooped down to the river. His talons stuck out in front as he
glided quickly above the waters of the river. He grabbed a trout in his
claws and instantly flapped his wings, climbing higher into the sky with
the fish held tightly. It was wriggling and squirming, but Wylie kept
flying until he reached the top of the mound once again. He sat and ate
his fish. He gazed around him once more. The sun was about to set. The
Scottish landscape looked as though it were on fire as the sun’s golden
rays radiated across the land, turning from bright yellow to fiery orange,
then red, then at last to a pinkish purple before it sank below the
horizon. What a beautiful place Scotland was. No better place for an eagle
to live and hunt. Wylie, feeling full from the fish he’d just devoured,
curled up on top of the mound and fell fast asleep, dreaming of what
tomorrow may bring. |
