We hunted our Christmas tree again this year (one of the fine things about living in the West). We prefer wild trees over those domesticated ones (although, we love those ones too). We took off to the woods on Saturday. On the way there, we apparently drove right by where all the BALD EAGLES migrate. And while we were trying to figure out what all those people with spotting scopes were doing on the side of the road, one swooped within 20 feet of our car. We had the windows down, and it was amazing. I almost started crying. It was one of those things that will be forever etched in my memory.
On the way back, we spotted a male eagle in a tree, and a female flew over the road and landed nearby. I snagged a pretty bad picture of the male. Maybe this is like no biggie to people that live here, I don’t know. But we thought it was pretty darn amazing.
What we were doing? Oh yeah, tree hunting. We found one. It wasn’t hard at all. We saw a few other people out in the woods, mostly people with guns and/or ATV’s. Then Wes found this cute little Fir with a crooked trunk.
And then we came home to our messy apartment and put what Abi calls “Christmas Magic” on all the branches (a.k.a. ornaments). And our house smells amazing!