A Story Inspired by a Native American Legend
The Eagle And The Grouse
by Allan
High on a rocky crag, two eagles lovingly tended their young chick. All day
they would ride the wind, searching for prey to carry back to the eyrie.
Although still young, having only hatched a week ago, the eaglet�s appetite
was enormous and he grew quickly. That night, a great storm began to blow, the wind roared, rain lashed the mountain sides, the chick slept, warm and dry, safe under his mother�s wings. A bolt of jagged lightning struck the nest, destroying it and leaving the eagle to the mercy of the storm.
The fall was terrifying, although the wind carried him gently to the ground
to rest in the heather at the foot of the mountains. When day broke, and the
sun began to warm him, the eagle cried for food, it was all he knew. A
grouse heard him and knew the meaning of his calls. She flew to him, and as
best as she could she began to care for him. The burden was almost too much
for her, the food she carried in her small beak scarcely kept the young
eagle alive. She called to her clan and they began to help her in her task
of caring for the youngster.
As the eagle grew, they taught him their ways. To search out the young
heather tips for food, how to scratch at the thin peaty soil for grubs and
insects. They taught him to fly in short zig � zagging bursts so he would
escape from his enemies who would catch and eat him. Above all they taught
him to always look down at the ground there he would find food and shelter,
and to never gaze into the sky, for there hid the taloned death who had no
name. A dread enemy whose attack was so swift and silent none survived, and
all that was heard was a rushing wind. The eagle listened to their advice
and teaching, following it because it was all he knew.
Autumn turned to winter, the eagle huddled miserably among the rocks and
heather of the moor, always hungry. His wings ached since he never fully
stretched them, and his eyes grew misty and dim from misuse. When spring
came the eagle climbed onto an old, gnarled tree, the only one that grew on
the moor. Out of the shelter of the thick heather the breeze blew through
his feathers, there was space to open his wings to their full mighty span.
For a moment he looked up into the blue cloudless sky and felt a sensation
unknown to him. Then he heard the warnings of the grouse that he would be
seen by his enemies and the eagle hid again in the embrace of the moor.
The summer was poor that year, food was scarce even for the grouse, the
winter was hard, and the eagle sickened more with each ever shortening day.
Weak from hunger, the eagle again climbed the lonely, single tree. When he
had reached the highest bough he took his last earthly breath. While the
snow began to fall covering his body, his spirit remembered the eyrie, and
the mountains, the chains of earth no longer bound him, and the eagle flew,
freely.
Ages passed, for the eagle, time no longer had any meaning. An eternal
summer with good hunting, if he wished, instantly became a snowbound icy
wasteland. The scarcity of prey tested his keen eyes to their limit. Or he
would ride the winds of the storm, battling to find a straight path back to
his eyrie. Ages passed as if in the blinking of an eye, and, with each
timeless second the eagle grew stronger and wiser.
Maybe because he had been so unhappy here, the eagle never looked down to
this earth below him. One day though he did, he remembered his time spent
here, his eyrie and the promise it gave of a noble life, the storm that
carried him to the grouse, all these memories returned. Most importantly he
remembered how he had felt upon the branch of the tree, when he had
glimpsed, but ignored the truth about himself. Remembering, the eagle made a
silent vow that he still keeps.
For when all seems hopeless, when we are lonely and afraid, when hope has
vanished. It is not a tear that we feel gently rolling down our cheek, but
the gentle touch of the eagle�s wing.
by Allan
Would you tame me? Better if you tried to cage the wind.
Forge the bars to hold the air and I may be impressed.
Would you slay me? I returned from the brink before.
I have learned to avoid mankind's traps.
Would you understand me? My eyes see all.
Look inside yourself, the answers lie hidden.
You seek the furthest horizon. It is there.
My wings carried me further.
If you reached it what would you do then?
Where would your next challenge be?
Do you aspire? Or are you led?
Could you follow me?
Rabbits fear me, my own chicks tell a different tale.
One is nurtured, the other prey; Which are you?
Ride the hurricane, soar higher than heaven itself.
Then, if you fall, you will be caught.
Not in a snare, but by those who guide.
You dared, you tried, you flew.
