I have a confession: For weeks, I have been spying on a couple and their children.
I monitor the mother and father’s every move first thing in the morning. I spy on the children with a sense of wonder and attachment. And I watch the family each night before I fall asleep.
Yes, I am among the tens of thousands of people who have followed the journey of Jackie and Shadow, the famous bald eagle pair of Big Bear Valley, and their newly hatched eaglets, via 24-hour livestream. Thanks to the nonprofit Friends of Big Bear Valley (FOBBV) and YouTube, viewers worldwide have been able to watch the pair for years.
I watched Jackie and Shadow each winter. Though I stopped watching football years ago, thanks to the nest cam, I quickly became an eagles fan. The journey of the pair and their eaglets has become both a local and a worldwide phenomenon. To watch the eagles via livestream is to share in their immense challenges, including their losses, as well as their successes.
In 2023, viewers were thrilled when Jackie again laid eggs. But tragedy occurred when ravens ate the pair’s entire clutch after it was left unattended. That day, as I watched Jackie return to an empty nest, I was heartbroken.
In 2024, Jackie laid three eggs. As the pair does each year, they dutifully sat on them for months and kept them warm. Sadly, viewers worldwide could see that none hatched.
Several weeks ago, the pair welcomed three chicks, and a hearty “Mazel Tov!” was in order. The news made jubilant headlines around the world. In fact, 99,000 people tuned in to watch the birth of the pair’s third chick live.
It had been a happy week for viewers who had felt a personal stake in this eagle family. But last Friday, one of the eaglets vanished from the nest cam. That day, we watched for any signs of the chick, anxiously searching for a glimpse of its lifeless body beneath the snow in the nest. Officials later confirmed that the eaglet had died. It was such a somber moment, and, to its credit, FOBBV communicated updates to fans of the eagles continuously and gently. After having watched the pair brave snowstorms for months to welcome three chicks, the death of one felt like such a loss.
For months, nearly every local news outlet has been on “Eagle Watch.” Viewers have tuned in to see how the birds are doing, even at night, when the solar-powered camera switches to black-and-white mode and one can imagine the utter darkness and cold surrounding these beautiful birds who sit atop a nest high in Big Bear Valley.
Sometimes, the sights caught on that camera are miraculous, such as that first pip, or crack, in the egg, signaling that a chick is alive inside and ready to make its way out. Other times, such as last Friday when one chick was clearly missing, the sights are heartbreaking, revealing a certain cruelty of nature. And other times, the camera catches moments of comedic drama, such as the time this January when Jackie “wing-slapped” a mob of hungry ravens a whopping 16 times before they finally left her alone to sit in her nest (strangely, a flock of ravens is called an “unkindness”). Being wing-slapped by an eagle must have been exactly as painful as it looked, and for us excited viewers at home, it was a full-blown “WWF for Birds” knockout fight.
Recently, I have wondered why hundreds of thousands of people, including adults with full-time jobs, devote time to watching the eagles of Big Bear Valley, especially when the birds are simply sleeping. What about other birds, such as sparrows or pigeons? Why isn’t there a nonprofit called Friends of the Central Park Pigeons that invests in live footage of pigeons in their nests across the Manhattan landmark?
For one thing, bald eagles are undoubtedly majestic, and without the well-positioned camera, few of us would ever catch a glimpse of them or their chicks in their nests. They endure so much to ensure healthy chicks and are also a symbol of this extraordinary country. To understand their beauty, one must only look at the underwhelmingly small and yes, slightly ugly, ravens that buzz around them. Who would devote precious time to watching a pair of ravens sit on a nest day and night? (No offense to ravens. If you are a raven and you are reading this, please do not follow me home.)
One night, the camera was shaking violently from a large snowstorm, and Jackie was almost completely covered in snow. But her chicks were undoubtedly kept warm beneath her. Jackie’s commitment to her eggs, and now, her chicks, is truly endearing. Watching a resilient bald eagle brave such harsh elements is a humble reminder to never take our access to shelter, food, and warmth for granted. And each time I watched her close her eyes and sit in the freezing snowstorm as she kept her chicks warm, I was filled with a strange need to call my mother.
On a deeper level, watching Jackie and Shadow offered us a respite from the chronic challenges of our own lives. It reminded us that there is a much wider world beyond the realm of our human problems; that even on our bad days, when traffic was insufferable, there was nothing good to eat in the refrigerator, our loved ones irritated us endlessly, and worst of all, the Wi-Fi was down and Netflix was inaccessible, there were two amazing bald eagles battling the harsh elements and perpetually predatory threats against their precious eggs day and night.
Losing eggs year after year took its toll on the birds: In regard to the eggs that failed to hatch in March 2020, FOBBV wrote on a webpage, “The loss of the eggs seemed to impact Jackie and Shadow’s behavior greatly.” Millions of birds worldwide lose eggs each day, but we often don’t see how it impacts them, because there are no cameras to capture their distress.
Recently, I realized that there may be an even deeper level as to why we invest our time watching Jackie and Shadow: Their triumphs, as well as their losses, are continuously televised, enabling us to feel sympathy, and perhaps, that sought-after feeling known as empathy that so many of us have lost in the digital age.
Recently, I realized that there may be an even deeper level as to why we invest our time watching Jackie and Shadow: Their triumphs, as well as their losses, are continuously televised, enabling us to feel sympathy, and perhaps, that sought-after feeling known as empathy that so many of us have lost in the digital age.
Imagine if each person you encounter came equipped with his or her own camera to track and display their joys and sorrows throughout the day, for months. I have long believed that each person we meet, even children, is battling their own pains and self-doubt. That is why one harsh word may destroy a person one day; or one kind smile may save them another.
I am not suggesting that we install a camera to livestream our lives minute by minute for the world to see (social media narcissists and reality shows notwithstanding). But it has taken the saga of two bald eagles in Southern California to help me realize how much our humanity, compassion, and empathy would be increased if we only imagined the various setbacks, pains, and problems that each one of us faces. We root for an eagle pair precisely because it lives under hardship and duress. What if we approached each other with a certain warmth and thoughtfulness precisely because we understood that each person is fighting at least one battle of their own?
I ask us to consider this the next time we are tempted to roll down our car window and angrily shout at another driver; or email a colleague to ask for a favor, without even inquiring how they are doing; or display a scowl at a stoic cashier who forgot to say, “Thank you” to us.
But there should also be a limit to our compassion. If you are followed home by a mob of angry ravens, cover your head, close the doors, and turn on all of the cameras.
Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael.
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