(Originally appeared as, “Fly Like An Eagle” in PAWS Magazine, Summer 2001)

Instead of donning the usual cap and gown, and listening to endless commencement speeches on graduation day, I found myself walking along a beach on the western shores of Puget Sound.

On the day of my release from undergraduate study, I would be participating in the release of a Bald Eagle. The eagle had been found about three miles offshore in Puget Sound, waterlogged and drowning. How he got into that predicament is a mystery, but the rest of the story is much clearer. After being carefully scooped up and brought to Island Wildlife Center he was transferred to PAWS Olympic Wildlife Center in McCleary. He had endured three long months of rehabilitation, and now it was time for him to go home.

The guest of honor was carried down the beach in a large pet carrier. We stopped on a narrow swath of beach, edged on one side by a tree-covered cliff. A small group from Island Wildlife Center followed, equipped with a variety of cameras to record the event.

Kevin Mack, PAWS Naturalist, disappeared inside the kennel, reappearing moments later with the massive bird in his arms. I set quickly to work cutting off the guard that had been placed on his tail to protect the feathers from damage during transport to the release site. Next came the wrist bandages, and finally I loosened the falconer’s hood from which the eagle’s giant yellow beak protruded. Kevin removed the hood and sheet, the last vestiges of restraint, and placed the eagle on the wet sand facing what we expected to be his old territory.

The eagle took a few bounding hops, spread his long black wings, and leapt into the sky. He soared low over the beach and landed on an abandoned shack. The prehistoric croaks of a great blue heron and agile dive bombs of an osprey heralded the eagle’s return. The joy of seeing this graceful bird returned to his rightful place was palpable among us. I felt reduced to the size of a sand flea after seeing the eagle I had just touched take wing. He absorbed his new surroundings for a few minutes and then flew farther down the beach.

As the eagle disappeared into the cover of madrona and fir trees, I reflected on another eagle encounter. Four years earlier I was sitting below my favorite cedar tree, looking for comfort on a blustery day. I was excited and nervous to start college, a new journey. A feather floated down amidst the gusts of wind and caught on a branch. I reached out and plucked the feather from its resting place. As I turned it in my hand I could see it was the breast feather of a bald eagle.

Standing on the beach, I realized I had come full-circle. The journey through college had come to a close. I was repaying the eagles’ gift by helping to give this eagle the greatest gift he could ever posses – his freedom.