Juvenile bald eagle

On Saturday Pilot and I climbed a mountain in Utah. On Sunday we drove home for eleven hours. Now we're in Portland in our apartment looking outside at the rain and thinking of all the errands we have to run (Pilot doesn't run errands, really, he just makes sure I'm doing it right) and not wanting to run any of them.
On the mountain there were bugs. So many bugs. Teeny tiny little gnats also known as no-see-ums also known as midges and let me tell you those fuckers bite. The back of my neck looks like something out of a pathology textbook. Pilot, of course, takes these little doggy supplements that make him undesirable to all kinds of biting bugs so no bumps for him, but both of us are so sore and stiff from hiking uphill in the bugs both ways we can barely walk. We (again, really just I) still have to clean out all the camping gear from the car and wash off all the dirt inside and out so I don't show up to work all deserty and dusty and looking like a half-crazed dirty vagabond that won't stop scratching herself. The self-scratching is probably unavoidable, but the dirty vagabond part I do have control over.
I also left my journal in the car and don't want to wobble out in the sloppy wet definitely-not-in-the-desert-anymore rain to get it, which is why you guys get to read all these details. The words have to go somewhere.
I'm so itchy. My tits look like they have measles. My arms look like berries and cream. My scalp, well, at least I'll get some fun scabs to pick later. I have so much shit to do before work tomorrow but all I want to do is lay around editing photos from the trip in between stumbling to the bathroom on my useless legs and writhing around in gleefully torturous itchiness.
So I'm doing that. Fuck it. I don't need groceries. I can eat pickles and peanut butter for dinner tonight. And for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. I don't need to wash the car or the laundry. I can go to work in dirty clothes after a night of no sleep because I was too tired to even go to the store to get calamine lotion.

This is a juvenile bald eagle.

The photos were on the same camera roll as my recent adventure photos, but these were taken in Portland.

(@nineclaws this is for you.)

To think I almost forgot about this guy. Or girl. Or GN juvenile they/them be whatever you want to be who cares about gender roles and labels and expectations bald eagle we love you just the way you are never change always be you.

Sexual dimorphism in bald eagles is challenging to distinguish, especially when they are juveniles and even more especially when you don't really care that much because you're the crow lady.

They were trying to catch one of these ducks, though. I thought that was kinda neat.

They failed.

Brought to you by Nikon D7500, Nikkor 300mm lens, Adobe Lightroom, and an ice pack.

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