The Eagle and the Eclipse

Over the past few weeks, I have been deeply immersed in the awe-inspiring live stream of the Big Bear eagles, as Jackie and Shadow took turns warming their three eggs in hopes of them hatching. Then about 10 days ago, I witnessed the miraculous hatching of the first egg, as well as the other two eggs in the following days, bringing three baby eaglets to this wonderful eagle couple! It has been nothing short of mesmerizing to watch the intricate dance of nature—how both parents, Jackie and Shadow, tenderly care for their young, balancing fierce protection with gentle nurture. The oldest eaglet, naturally, has taken on the role of dominant sibling, establishing the pecking order at feeding times with instinctual precision and intense bonking to keep his siblings behind him in line.

But nature, in all its beauty, is also fierce and unyielding. The past few days have brought a brutal winter storm to Big Bear—merciless winds, heavy snowfall, and freezing temperatures. Amid this icy storm, Jackie has remained steadfast, a mother’s love powerfully woven into every movement as she shields her babies with her broad wings, tirelessly keeping them warm and dry throughout both the day and night, as best that she can. It has been an emotional journey watching, feeling helpless at times as the raw intensity of their survival weighed against the unrelenting elements.

As if the drama unfolding in the nest wasn’t already gripping enough, the celestial realm added its own significance. A full moon lunar eclipse in Virgo, a sign deeply tied to themes of home, stability, and rebirth cast its shadow over the night sky. Eclipses are known to be powerful harbingers of transformation, shifts both seen and unseen. And this morning, as I tuned in to the live stream, the world seemed to stand still—only two eaglets remained in the nest.

My heart sank. A pit formed in my stomach as I frantically rewound the footage in search of answers to where the third eaglet could be. There, at 11:35 p.m, in the dim light, I saw Jackie react to something—her wings whipping defensively, as if she was startled by an intruder. In the midst of this movement, something seemed to have shifted. Maybe one of her fragile, precious babies teetered on the edge of fate. Had one of her chicks shifted out from under her protection as she fended off the intruder?

The only thing I could conclude after watching the replay, was that one of the eaglets moved outside from underneath Jackie’s body, to under her wing, which is less warm to the freezing elements. Had the relentless cold taken its toll?

It was a humbling moment. A stark reminder that life, in its rawest form, is fragile. Long before civilization, modern medicine, and the comforts of heated homes, human survival, too, teetered on the whims of nature. This small, fragile eaglet was not just a creature of the wild—it was a mirror of our own animal nature, reminding us of our existence in a world that is both nurturing and unforgiving.

Survival often favors those who push to the front of the line, who assert themselves loudly and take what they need before others can. This dynamic is evident in nature, where the strongest and most dominant claim their share first. But I couldn’t help but ponder how this force affects us today in modern human society. It seems that this instinct has evolved into something far more insidious. Has the natural drive to survive become warped into a hunger for power, control, and greed? Perhaps this is why we see so many bullies rising to positions of influence—those who have mastered the art of domination, leveraging fear and force to secure their place at the top, regardless of who they hurt along the way. What was once a necessity for survival has become a system of worldly success, leaving the vulnerable to either depend on them, or fend for themselves.

As I sat with this grief, I couldn’t help but to also think about the deeper significance of the eclipse. The celestial and earthly realms are not separate; animals, too, feel the shifts of nature’s grand orchestration. The moon, the wind, the storm—all of it plays a part in the ebb and flow of survival. A mere 12 minutes from the peak of the Blood Full Moon Lunar Eclipse there it was—a symbol of life, death, transformation and abrupt change, reinforcing how precious our lives are.

Jackie, the fierce mother, will continue to protect her remaining young. The storm will pass. The Moon will wane and wax once more, the Sun will shine again, and our great Earth will keep turning. And, hopefully, we can learn to balance our survival instincts while also caring for one another as beautifully as Jackie and Shadow demonstrate in their every intentional action.