Our favorite destination on any boat ride is the eagles’ nest. The gigantic structure sits perched in a tall tree on an island overlooking the expanse of Big Sturgeon Lake. I like the stand of scraggly, grizzled old trees almost as much as an eagle sighting. On a skinny spit of land that sees its share of harsh winters, the trees are an assemblage of characters, like the town elders, each with a story to tell and the scars to prove it.
One thought on “09.04.13 where the birds are”
Beautiful – I love the old trees too,