Their names are Blair and Taylor. They are a pair of breeding bald eagles in Trempealeau County, Wisconsin, not far from where I am. For the last few years, their lives in and around a nest high atop a cottonwood tree have been monitored via live video stream by an elementary school classroom in the little town of Blair.
On the surface it would seem a golden learning opportunity, and an exciting one at that. For those of us whose elementary school years are just a decades-old dream at this point, and who probably never came closer to learning about wild animals than the pages of a World Book encyclopedia, the thought of having a full color, full sound, real time glimpse into the nesting/brooding habits of these birds, a glimpse that was largely unimaginable as recently as fifteen years ago, at that age, is especially fascinating. In other words, I envy these 3rd graders. The animals are completely unaware that they're being watched, so what the students (and the world) get to see is truly unprecedented - animals acting like animals, with no sense that they should act otherwise - no guard up, no defensive posture, not so much as a stitch of wariness to alter even their most primitive responses and interactions. It can be mesmerizing to watch, and the fact that it's the bald eagle makes it especially cool, considering thirty years ago, when I was a third grader paging through World Book volumes, the species was virtually non-existent in the lower 48. Since then, our national symbol has made an incredible comeback.
But while it's a miraculous age we live in, there's a caveat inextricably linked to the process of setting up and enjoying cams like this, a responsibility to a code of conduct, particularly when it's all being shared with young children.
As the students in Blair have found out, animals do not live in a perfect world. Mother Nature is pitiless. Not cruel...'cruel' is a human attribute...but pitiless. Things happen and there is no rhyme or reason, and the answer to 'Why...?' is always, 'Why not...?'
Granted, there are degrees to this. The Blair eagles have not had quite the same luck as the eagles in Decorah, Iowa, for instance, a truly remarkable live feed that got a boost a few years back with the help of The Huffington Post, and has since commanded a world-wide audience, with total views over 300 million.
Those two eagles have had a relatively stable existence. They have problems to be sure - several of their fledglings have not survived (2014 was an especially bad year), they endure wicked weather, harassment from owls, biting flies in June, the ever present risk of electrocution from power poles, and (I'd bet) a heightened stress from people who show up to view the nest in person - but for the most part they seem to keep things together during the nesting/brooding season, probably because there has been little interaction with other eagles. Most of their eaglets have fledged successfully.
In Blair, things are not so settled. According to a recent story by Betsy Bloom of the La Crosse Tribune, the male eagle has had to contend with a rival, and was for a time vanquished from the nest. This left the female with the chore of brooding on her own, as the new male would not help incubate another's eggs and wanted only to mate with her. As a result, she's been forced to leave the eggs unattended for long stretches of time in dangerously cold temperatures just to find food for herself. And what's more, she's not even the original female.
That's par for the course in the eagle (animal) world, cold and pitiless, and I wonder how all of it is being explained to the students in the classroom as it plays out. The folks involved with the Decorah, Iowa nest, the Raptor Resource Project, take responsibility in this regard. They do not name the animals, or any of the components of the animals' lives. The two nests that have been built over time are called 'N1' and 'N2', and a similar letter/numerical nomenclature is employed when referring to the eaglets. This may sound sterile and kind of joyless, but it helps avoid the natural inclination we all have to anthropomorphize, which can lead to an emotional investment none of us have any business having when it comes to wild animals.
I have no reason to think the same sort of precaution isn't taking place in Blair...although already, they have named their eagles, Blair and Taylor, after their school system. A branch adjacent to the nest, where the eagles often perch, is referred to as 'the den'. And post after post on the website describes the goings-on as though Blair and Taylor are the friendly old married couple that lives next door and everyone's just doing a little back fence gossiping. To be clear, I'm not meaning to be too up in arms about it. I'm not such a jaded asshole that I forget these are kids we're dealing with. I completely understand that part of their classroom project should be about having fun. The website address is www.eagles4kids.com, after all...
I simply caution that it's critical the school kids in Blair, and elsewhere, understand exactly what it is they're watching, that by design, Nature is pitiless, but for this, a flawless plan emerges that should not be interfered with, a narrative that should not be altered to suit human sensibilities. It would be a grave mistake to indulge their desire to view the animals as classroom pets, or mascots...'Mr. and Mrs. Eagle' ruling the woods from on high. That would be dysfunctional, and could be potentially devastating, were something very run of the mill in the wild - but shocking to them - to take place on camera, before their eyes.
Misfortune has already been the rule this winter, and worse things could happen. The new male (also given a name: 'Mister') could attempt to dispatch the chicks after they're born if he's still hanging around (assuming the eggs hatch), they could at any time fall victim to opportunistic predators, it's not out of the realm of possibility for an older eaglet to commit fratricide, or they might simply perish under the care of what seem to be inexperienced parents.
Anything could happen, and really, we should expect that it will, and thus remain cautious about blurring the lines between 'us' and 'them'. A smart, well-adjusted - and yes, a little detached - view of nature doesn't kill the experience. In fact, it enhances it.
With the ability to watch these animals comes a responsibility to let the story tell itself, and accept the ending as part of the finest story ever told: the diversity of life on this blue marble.
