Aki is trotting in front of me, hurrying back to the car. She used a lot of time on the walk to the beach smelling and marking the trail. While she recorded her story, I daydreamed behind her, stopping from time to time to enjoy splashes of color ramping up the summer flowers.

            We often spot eagle feathers scattered on beaches, trails, or meadow grass. A smart guy would haul them home. But the federal government makes it illegal to do that. So for over 40 years, I’ve treated them like little splotches of untouchable beauty. Sometimes they look stunning. Other times, they are just boring. This afternoon, I almost stepped on a pure-white tail feather soaking up the sun on a tiny beach. Later I almost asked a fluffy patch of brown and white down to help me fly.