By JoEllen Conger
Corrine is near exhaustion on the downward trail. Pausing for breath on an open ridge, she hears a strange, whistling sound. At first, she is unable to identify it. Anxiety rising, she whirls about and raises her eyes to the sky to see the she-eagle plummeting toward her. She doesn’t know whether to expect a greeting or an attack. She only knows she mustn’t run.
The wind from the eagle’s strong beating wings whips her hair wildly about her face. The bird, its talons raised, its ear-splitting scream terrifying her, Corrine nearly faints before the spirit of her native American husband raises protective arms above her to return the bird’s salutation.