A new suitor tries to attract the attention of the female bald eagle after her mate was killed by a car in June on Highway 82. Photo courtesy of Steve Harding

Bald eagles mate for life. That is, unless one mate dies. For at least two decades a pair of bald eagles has nested and raised their young along the banks of the Roaring Fork River at Aspen Glen, between Carbondale and Glenwood Springs. This year, the nest was filled with three hatchlings who grew into nestlings and then fledglings. Just as the first youngster was ready for takeoff in early June, the male adult parent was killed by a car on Highway 82.
Delia Malone, vice-chair of Roaring Fork Audubon and an ecologist with the Colorado Natural Heritage Program, is one of four locals who study the eagles. She and Aspen Glen resident Sibel Tekce presented results of their work to the Garfield County commissioners in April to help preserve a buffer zone that’s been in place around the eagles’ nesting and foraging area since 1992.
Malone told The Sopris Sun that the loss of the adult male has been tough on the female. “She has to feed herself first and then she has to provide food for the eaglets,” she said. And that doesn’t mean heading for the nearest bird feeder. Feeding means hunting or catching fish, which takes time and energy. Meanwhile, she also defends her territory against raptors, corvids and other predators, and teaches the fledglings how to hunt and fish. All by herself.
Malone noted that the fledglings left the nest faster than usual this year. “I think it’s probably kind of like kids at home,” she said. “If your parents are feeding you, why leave? But the female probably wasn’t bringing enough food.” She added that fledglings usually stay close to the nest for four or five weeks, honing their flying and hunting skills — basically learning how to be eagles. “During this time, the parents still provide all their food,” she said.
The female parent has been flying back and forth between the nest and nearby perch trees but no offspring have been sighted. “We really don’t see [this year’s] fledglings around too much anymore,” she said.
Malone believes the adult female is mourning her mate. “She sits out there in her perch tree that they shared together for so long,” she observed. “And she just sits there and sits there.” The eagle seems to have lost the wind beneath her wings.
“When they flew together, you could tell they were joyous flying together and in the dance,” said Malone. “I think she’s still hoping her mate will return. He’s returned for decades every day. ‘Why isn’t he coming back now?’”

The suitor
Another male bald eagle has entered the scene but the female does not appear interested. “He showed up about a week after [her mate] was killed,” said Malone. “They were vocalizing together but then she basically didn’t accept his advances.” Meaning, the female ignored any attempts at bonding.
The upside, said Malone, is that the drive to survive remains. “[The female’s] first focus is to reproduce and get those young out of the nest because successful reproduction is immortality,” she said. “It’s written in her DNA to survive.” And, apparently, the new guy has not given up.

Nowhere to go
Malone said the female bald eagle likely won’t leave this stretch of the river. “There is nowhere else to go,” she said. “Look at the river, look at the development, look at how houses are bank-to-bank along almost the entirety of the river, except for a very few small areas.”
These raptors are territorial, she explained. “Eagles need an area for foraging and when an area is already taken, [a new eagle] can’t just move in.” Continued protection of the Aspen Glen Bald Eagle Buffer Zone is crucial.
It’s the same for elk or other wildlife in and around the Roaring Fork Valley whose habitat becomes buried under housing or commercial development. “The idea that, oh, if we develop here, the animals will just go elsewhere? Well, there is no elsewhere,” said Malone.
She believes the bald eagle’s death is a metaphor for something bigger. “The eagle getting killed by the car was a five-second bleep in the news and then it’s done and people continue doing what we’re doing,” she said. “But it’s so far beyond that single tragedy: We are on a collision course and wildlife is in the way.”