Eaglets practicing, flexing their wings

I have been checking in with the Eva and Albert blogger who includes excellent photos of the eagles, parents and eaglets alike, with his blogs. And the older of the two nestlings is shown practicing flexing his/her wings, even making some modest lift offs from the nest this past week, all in anticipation of fledging soon. And we have seen the parents on every trip across the bridge lately. The other day Ethel was sitting upon the southern fountain, located just south of the 520 bridge on the west side where the eagles usually appear. She had something in her right talon.....it could have been a crow, or it might have been a small fish. I could not quite make it out. Then yesterday and today we saw Ethel upon her favorite light standard, and later Ernest was in that exact post. Now it is Ernest who is looking a bit disheveled. His feathers are all caterwampus, apparently parenting can be tumultuous at times! I will let you know when the eaglets fledge. Once they do....who knows where they will go. But we believe Ethel and Ernest have homesteaded right where they are. Or at least we hope so. And a side note. A recent book written by two University of Washington professors, "The Gifts of the Crow", has been a fascinating read. There was a section in the book about the behavior of crows during a period of grieving for a crow that dies. Last week I actually was just a few feet away when a fledgling crow crashed straight down to the ground in our back yard from one of our huge fir trees. The crow appeared to be a couple of weeks from fledging age, tail feathers not quite full yet. And this young crow, while still barely alive, who appeared to make absolutely no attempt whatsoever to fly, even to flap his wings as he fell, had a grossly enlarged abdomen which also was completely bare of any feathers whatsoever. He was dead within just a few moments. I looked around for parents, relative crows, always so omnipresent to protect their babies, and saw no one. So I buried the poor little crow. And within a few moments, a big group of crows silently assembled in a dogwood tree above the little grave. One by one they came down, walked up to where I'd buried the fledgling, then eventually all of them silently flew away. No scolding, no cawing. Silence the entire time. And the very next day.......a second identically sick fledgling crow, the same swollen belly, lay dead within inches of where the first one fell. Once again, I buried the baby crow. And once again, within minutes, a flock of crows arrived silently. They again took turns flying down from the tree to the spot where I buried the second crow, as if to pay their respects, again in total silence. Then they all flew away.