I had high hopes for this Mainland trip. The plan was simple: head to Harrison Mills and photograph thousands  of bald eagles — the biggest gathering of eagles in North America. I had visions of soaring raptors, dramatic shots, National Geographic vibes. I had no idea the universe had a very different plan for me… one that involved unexpected teachers, spiritual nudges, and one very brave adventure cat named Finnegan. Finnegan and I walked down a forested path that cuts right

After a full workday, with the sun dipping low and shining its warm golden light across the city, the pull of nature was impossible to ignore. At 4:00 p.m., I practically scaddled out the door, birding was calling me. I had zero expectations. I just wanted fresh air, a moment of quiet, and the simple joy of being out with Finnegan. So I grabbed my camera, hopped in the car, picked up my Aunt, and the three of us set off for a quick evening birding drive. With the early winter

I didn’t set out to go birding today—not on a dense, fog-heavy fall afternoon where the world felt muffled and quiet. All I meant to do was run a quick mid-day errand and grab an iced coffee. That was it. But then I decided to take the scenic way home, and that one small choice opened a door I didn’t even realize I was walking through. Of course, I didn’t have my camera. Classic. So I raced home—15 minutes flat—and came right back. By then, the flock of grebes I’d initially s