When It Was Film, Part II

Hyder, Alaska and the Golden Eagle Sound                  Date Unknown, 1993

Just above Hyder Alaska, sub-alpine meadows grow a luxurious bed of endless heathers.  Far below, Pacific Coast temperate rainforest trees tower over river valleys, dripping with rain, moss, and old man's beard lichens. This is a high density bear area.  Thousand-pound coastal brown bears and smaller, more tenacious black bears abound.  Up on the high mountains, there are no tall trees, no places to hang a food pack.  Up here, caution in bear country is replaced with a resignation to fate.

Following a peaceful night's camp, we were returning back down to the valley, navigating a series of high alpine pools.  I was inspired by their beauty and the spectacular beauty of the Misty Fjords National Monument in the distance.  As I set up my camera for the image, I heard a strange sound in the sky above me.  It sounded as though, somehow, someone was tearing the sky.  Like the ripping sound of fabric, the brisk tearing of paper, the sound of a windbreaker jacket giving way to an unstoppable wind, the calm and windless sky above me was tearing wide open.  The sound passed quickly overhead from west to east, painting only a picture of "where" but giving no clues about "what".  Suddenly calm again, I was left to wonder.   It would be fourteen years until I experienced the sound again and learned the identity of the "sky ripper."  The sound had been made by the primary flight feathers of a Golden Eagle at maximum flight speed, a predator on a power dive.   

The thing missing in this image is the sound.  Imagine it as you look down into the pool, and you will be there with me.

This image was made with a Minolta SRT 101 camera, a Celtic 50mm lens, and Fujichrome 100 film.  If none of those things sound familiar, I am not surprised.