We recognise eagles by the V-shape in their tail feathers or a white band on the underside of their extended wings. We know them from the way they look as they glide on the airwaves above national parks, open farmland or along deserted highways. Perhaps they settle on a distant lamp post or cliff ledge. It’s this detached nature and these quiet, faraway sightings, that lend them a sense of majesty.
It’s no surprise I stood breathless when I found myself locking eyes with a martial eagle perched at shoulder height, just more than an arm’s length away. Calm. Stoic. They named her Goliath, not because they mistook her for a male but because hers is the largest eagle species on the continent and she the largest eagle to call this place home. I didn’t stare long into her yellow eyes but rather at her strong, feathered legs.