Winter’s hold on the wild has finally wilted. Palisades Reservoir is free of ice. The birds are back and so is bald eagle lead researcher Michael Whitfield. His field biologist, Sue Miller, is with him. She’s a climber, but on this day she is scrambling over bark instead of boulders. She’s on her way up to a bald eagle nest sitting several hundred feet above the water. “I do feel sometimes like I’m intruding on their lives a little bit climbing into the trees,” Miller says. “But I realize it’s an important part of the biology work we do, being able to band the young and potentially seeing them later on in life.”
There’s a nesting pair of bald eagles raising one eaglet in a nest built back in the 1980s. Miller is sitting in it in a matter of minutes. The adults circle her like vultures and scream like angry parents. “The parents fly around above the nest a lot,” Miller says. “They’re constantly complaining at you making a lot of loud vocalization while you’re there and waiting for you to leave.”
The new eagle can’t fly yet so it’s still in the nest when Miller settles in. She carefully wraps the bird and lowers it to the ground in a canvas bag. Whitfield is waiting for it. His bald eagle research goes back three decades. From the days when the bird was listed as endangered with only 12 nesting pairs in the area, to recovery and delisting with at least 80 nesting pairs now. “It’s a tremendous success story for a lot of people’s efforts in managing their habitat and managing the animals,” says Michael Whitfield, Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem bald eagle project lead researcher. “This place is incredibly rich in the diversity of flora and fauna.”
After three decades, Whitfield still sees bald eagles as mysterious. The bird he is taking out of the bag is no exception. Its plumage is unusual. Instead of the common all black coloring of young bald eagles, the six-week-old bird is speckled with black and white. Its talons also toggle between black and white. Whitfield quickly records the first feather variation discovered at Palisades Reservoir. “I’m entranced. The more I watch bald eagles, the more mystery there is,” he says. “I’m starting to feel like after 30 years I understand them a little bit, but there’s a lot more still to learn.”
Whitfield has banded hundreds of bald eagles in Southeast Idaho over the years. The banding process takes about an hour per bird. Miller stays in the nest during that time. She inspects the bones and feathers scattered about and on calm days when the tree doesn’t sway, she takes in the view. The birds are known for finding the finest lookouts.
“Every nest I’ve been in has a magnificent view,” Whitfield says. “Eagles pick the biggest structure that’s available. They pick a high place where they can see a long ways.
You get a whole different perspective of the world from an eagle nest.”
Whitfield finishes banding and sends the bird back up to Miller. She uncovers it and places it in its perfect perch then she ropes a route down the towering Douglas fir. The adult bald eagles return to their eaglet and they probably think they’ve won. They raised enough ruckus to run off the humans. In a way, they’re right. Now that the bird is banded, the humans won’t be back. They can track from afar. “Hopefully I’ll see the one we banded today again someday,” Miller says.
Millgate is a freelance journalist based in Idaho Falls.