Tyler Thoren

Photographed in Revelstoke

Through the camera lens, the world narrows. The chaos of branches becomes a frame, imperfect but alive. A female eagle stands tall, her posture sharp and alert. Small movements catch the eye as I open my other eye to expand my view, watching for things unfolding in the periphery.

I am not one for waiting or camping in place for hours. I prefer to keep moving, listening and watching for life to unfold around me. This was no different. I had been watching the male fly along the gorge above the river for quite a while. I knew he was returning somewhere, as I could hear his partner’s call. It was fortunate that the route out of the gorge placed me directly in line with where he was headed.

I paused, taking a few frames, but it felt secondary to simply being there. Quiet. Close. For a moment, it was mine alone. Then I shifted slightly, found a cleaner line through the branches, and held position. When it happened, it happened quickly. A brief burst, a precise instant. Then I moved on, leaving the echoes of their calls behind as the forest closed in again.