On the Feet of Eagles

I was walking in Dry Canyon the other day when the movement of a large animal in the brush beside me caused me to start.  I thought it was deer because it was about that size, but it turned out to be a golden eagle.  The eagle had been on a deer carcass next to the trail, and as I walked past, it took off and flew ahead of me up the canyon.  It landed down low on a shrub, watched me for a moment, and then came back down the canyon, flying so close that I could almost have touched it.  It was a huge bird, with at least six feet of wing and talons fully eight inches from front to back.

I didn't see the eagle again that afternoon, but I went back the next day to see how much deer meat it had consumed over night.  The eagle wasn't visible, but its footprints were obvious in the snow.  On at least two occasions, it had walked a considerable distance from the deer carcass up into the rocks along the side of the canyon.  Along with the footprints were wing prints.  With every step or two, the eagle would flap its wings to help with propulsion, leaving the feather prints there in the snow, too.

I followed both tracks until they ended, looking for clues about why an eagle would walk in the snow.  I mean, if you had wings like that, wouldn't you use them?  The first track ended atop a three foot boulder not far from the trail.  The second continued on and on up the side of the canyon over snow slick boulders.  (It may not have been difficult walking for an eagle, but I fell several times.  Fortunately, Rural Ways has a hard A.)  When I got to the top of the track, there was nothing.  I had been expecting to find a piece of the deer that the eagle had dragged to a more favorable dining location.  The carcass was surrounded by coyote tracks and I figured that the eagle had tired of bickering with a canine after every bite.

But there was nothing.  There were no deer parts, there was no blood or gore, there was no evidence of an eagle picnic.  The track just stopped.  It was like the maker of the track had grown wings and flown away.  And, indeed, it had.  But why?  Why walk to the top of the canyon before take-off?  Was the eagle's belly so full of carrion that it needed a launch pad?