Ponderous thoughts I was pondering ...

The fresh catch of the day was hornpout sushi for this young eagle.

Ponderous thoughts I was pondering while trying to keep my wits about me during a period of national insanity:

** Given all that has transpired in recent days, it goes without saying that I would try to retreat to my own little patch of nature -- i.e., my own backyard -- to shut out the noise and try to recover a sense of normalcy.

For a while, I thought I succeeded. Despite the high temperatures of the week, I went out to my favorite camping chair and waited for my bunny friends to greet me. And I was not disappointed on Monday.

People that have read this space before are aware that I have a warm spot in my heart for bunnies. I know some of you are dismayed about the overabundance of the furry things in the past couple of summers because they do tend to be voracious eaters, especially of unguarded family gardens. But that was my mother's thing, not mine. What she planted years before her death in 2015 is still growing strong, and the bunnies generally leave it alone. But in my backyard, there is a wealth of fresh and juicy grass and the vines on my fence, which they enjoy nibbling at.

These little guys aren't afraid of me.

This year's crop of bunnies has been particularly fearless (no pun intended) where I'm concerned. They have come to accept me as part of the landscape -- the big guy that sits quietly in his chair and sometimes starts snoring -- so they aren't as skittish as one might normally expect from wild rabbits. There are two little ones, probably siblings and both with a tiny little diamond of white fur on their foreheads, that will hop over and sit about 18 inches from my feet. I'll say hello, but as long as I don't make any quick movements, they'll be content to watch me for a while before sticking their noses back in the grass to chow down.

I don't feed them human food; it's not good for them. But they seem so happy and content to partake of the backyard grass, I don't need to feed them anything. They might be spooked by low-flying helicopters or the planes making their low passes overhead on their way to a landing at Mansfield Airport, but for the most part, they seem to feel safe when I'm on the watch.

But yesterday was another thing. 

Usually, the buns are out and foraging in the shaded parts of my lawn by mid-afternoon, then they run rampant after 6 p.m. But just one "diamondhead," as I call it, was out, and it was sticking very close to the shrubbery near my garage. It didn't take long for me to see the reason why.

Perched high in a neighbor's dead maple tree whose branches extend out over the pond was an immature bald eagle, and it was scanning the area for its meal.

At first I thought it was a big hawk, because I've had adult bald eagles perch in that tree before, and they look just like the tattoos on the chests of those idiots attending the MAGA convention in Milwaukee. This one was smaller, and the coloration was different, but I quickly got the binoculars and camera, took a close look at the avian visitor and then did the obligatory Google search. From what I could tell, this was a young eagle that had yet to attain the full white-feathered coloration of its head, and its distinctive beak had not yet changed from a dark shade to the bright orange of mature adults. 

I've posted a few photos for you bird enthusiasts to tell me if I'm correct or not.

Anyway, I could tell this eagle was searching for food, so I walked closer to the fence next to the tree when it was perched, probably about 40 feet above me. The bird started chirping a warning to me. Then I walked a few steps closer. More warning chirps. And when I got to the fence, the eagle took flight -- only to return not long after I went back to sit in my chair. 

And thus began the waiting game. It was not going to swoop into my yard while I sat there, and the bunnies sensed that, but the two that were present in the yard by that time chose to stay very close to natural cover.

After about an hour of that, the eagle grew weary of the standoff. It soared out over the pond -- and returned a few minutes later with a trophy gripped in its talons. It had swooped down and plucked a sizable catfish (we call them "hornpout" around here) out of the water.

I was stunned -- not that it caught a fish, I know they do that, but that we actually still had hornpout in Fulton Pond. When I was a little kid, I might have been able to catch tiny sunfish and an occasional bass in that pond, but the hornpout lurked in the shallows and were too smart, swift and slippery to be hooked by amateurs. Years later, in the wake of summer droughts, decades of industrial waste and a major dredging, I was genuinely surprised to see that hornpout still exist in the pond.

The eagle kept the fish grasped in its talons for quite a while. It steadfastly refused to budge even when four large crows decided to stop by and harass the bigger bird, hoping it would drop the fish to the ground below. No such luck. Finally, about an hour after the catch, the eagle started ripping it asunder to nibble at some tasty catfish sushi. 

Protecting its dinner from view.

I'll spare you the details. I watched it all through the binoculars, and the best one-word description I can find is "rending." Starting at the head and finishing at the tail fins, the eagle ripped and pulled at the catfish, devouring the tasty bits and flinging the less savory pieces to the ground. It took almost two hours for the meal to be finished, but once it was, the eagle did not fly off. It sat triumphantly on the dead branch, still looking over every inch of my lawn and waiting for the bunnies to come out en masse before darkness fell, as they normally do.

So again, I walked close to the tree. More warning chirps, and then flight. But when it came back, it returned to a higher branch. Again I tried to prod it into flight, but this time, the eagle knew it was safe from my sorry attempts to look menacing. I could tell it was looking down upon me and thinking, "Nice try, fat boy, but this is MY HOUSE!" I didn't even get a warning chirp.

Eventually, it was too dark for my human eyes to see anything more than a few feet away, so I gave up the vigil. This morning, the eagle was gone. I only hope that the hornpout meal was enough to sustain it last night.

** Another means of diversion for me this summer has been summer basketball at Franklin High, where veteran coach John Leighton has assembled 16 girls' teams from the Hockomock League, Tri-Valley League and Bay State League. Summer basketball is a valuable part of the team bonding process, even if some players that would be members of their winter high school teams may be absent because of AAU participation, injury rehab or just plain summer fun.

All that being said, one can still glean tidbits of information from what's on display, and here are some of those:

-- Back-to-back state champ Foxboro is not done yet, even with a few big holes to be filled with the graduations of Cam Collins, Izzy Chamberlin and Erin Foley. The whole team has not been present for much of the summer league so far, but I was certainly impressed with what I've seen of returning sophomore guard Alaysia Drummonds, who may give the Warriors a good portion of what Collins took with her to Rider University. I've also been impressed with the efforts of senior forward Ava Hill, who has been a strong rebounder and has her 3-point range back, and she's even had to bring the ball up because of missing personnel. 

-- I like a lot of what I've seen from Mansfield, especially senior Ella Palanza, who appears to have a greater level of control over all of her skills. A lot of the young players that brought the Hornets to an 18-5 record last year are showing progress, too. But the Hornets really need to focus upon finishing their plays. They run at a fast pace and execute well -- until they shoot, and that aspect of their game needs better focus. Expected in summer ball, hopefully fixed by December.

-- Bishop Feehan has lots of holes to fill after their state D1 title season, but you couldn't ask for a better anchor than senior guard Charlotte Adams-Lopez, who recently received a D1 offer from Brown. Coach Amy Dolores has some height coming up in the ranks, and I expect Feehan will make the necessary progress to make a run at another Catholic Central League title and postseason success.

-- I haven't seen a North Attleboro game in person yet, but the Rocketeers have two teams participating in the league, which shows that second-year coach Ashley Kepaa has created new enthusiasm in the program. I'm sure I'll get to see them soon.

-- Another school with good participation and enthusiasm is Attleboro. Avery James is already playing at a high level, and Tia Williamson looks stronger and more agile in the paint. There is some intriguing talent among the Bombardiers, so it might pay to keep an eye on their progress heading into a new season.

** I saw in the Globe's business pages that a store I often frequented over the years, You-Do-It Electronics in Needham, recently closed. That place was not only the first stop for serious electronics enthusiasts, but a gimmick nerd's paradise as well. I bought any number of digital recorders and microphones there over the years to help me in my news-gathering efforts because I knew it was the one place where I could stay on the cutting edge of affordable technology.

Sure, some things were miscalculations on my part -- does anyone remember mini-discs? I still have three recorders and a whole pile of the tiny recordable cassettes -- but if it was new and I thought it could help me get a clear recording from inside a scrum of reporters around a player, I bought it at YDI.

Sorry to see it go.

** I don't feel compelled to comment upon what happened at former President Donald Trump's rally in Butler, Pa., last Saturday. It is what it is. But it changes nothing in my mind.

I am still fully committed to voting for President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris in the November election because I believe in an America governed by people of good conscience and compassion. And if that isn't the ticket, I'll still vote Blue for the aforementioned reasons.

I will have more to say about the choices available to the American public once the conventions are history.

** Please, Major League Baseball. Go back to having all-stars wear their regular uniforms for the game. Those abominations chosen for this year's game looked as if they'd been hanging for far too long on the cut-rate rack of children's pajamas at Marshall's. Simply awful.

** The Patriots released their list of assistant coaches this past week, and I think they have more than 25 of them. Some high school teams don't have that many players. Way too many coaches for a 48-man gameday roster.

Catch you on the flip side, folks.

Mark Farinella has yet to declare his backyard a national wildlife sanctuary, but he would if he could. Comment on his posts at theownersbox2020@gmail.com.