It’s been a very busy couple of months.  Senior photos, our first series of photo workshops and winterizing the farm has kept me out of the blogging world.  But I did manage to get away to our annual Musky Hunt.

The Musky Hunt is an annual event among a great group of friends that has been going on for 12 years.  I wrote about it last year in the post ReBoot.  It always seams to come at the best time of the year.  The colors are changing and everyone in the group seams to need the break.  This year was certainly no different.

Every year is special.  The stories that we come with get better every year, but that happens when you get a bunch of middle aged dads away from family and work.  We all love to get away and act like 20 somethings again, even though our bodies remind us every morning that that age is but a distant memory, even though we hate to admit it.  We share good times, bad jokes, cold beer and catch an occasional fish, (very occasional this year).

But there is also something different about every year.  2 years ago it was the moose on the lake.  Last year it was hearing the howl of a wolf.  This year it was the eagles.

We had a pair of Bald Eagles that laid claim to the lake this year.  Every day we saw the eagles.  They seam to sense our collective awe.  There is something a Bald Eagle that is inspiring.  Their flight is so powerful, their screech sends chills.  Maybe is is the size of the bird, maybe it is their beauty and maybe it is some patriotic thing.  When you see the majesty and power of their flight, it is no wonder that it is the chosen symbol of our country.

I shot a lot of photos on this trip, like I do every year.  Some not as good as the year before, some very much the same, and some will never see the light of day, unless someone pisses me off and I need to blackmail them.  This year was the year of the eagle.

I can only hope that next year is the year of the fish…