All I’ve got this week is an eagle. It keeps flying around in the dark behind my eyes as I search for something noncontroversial to write about.

The wind was stiff this morning down at the lake, 13 mph with 27 mph gusts. That weights a seasonal 25 degrees and sinks it to feeling like 11.

Eleven begins to feel like cold.

Our pals warming themselves down in Florida or over yonder in Arizona right now shudder at the thought of 11 degrees. Me? I went for a bike ride at sunset the evening before when it wasn’t much warmer. It’s those Scandinavian genes.

Anyway, that eagle. It was getting pushed around pretty good by the wind. I wondered how it would ever see a fish in that churn of whitecaps, let alone maneuver its way down to grab one.

It was a bald eagle. That means it hosted a royal set of white plumage........

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