Maratse waved. He watched her leave, then leaned over the railing to wave a minute later as Petra stepped out of the apartment building and jogged over to the patrol car. Dust pillowed away from the tyres as Constable Atii Napa accelerated out of the parking lot. Maratse turned back to the fjord, caught the shadow of a sea eagle, and stared up to watch it soar across the sun.
“Hmm,” he said, as a second eagle joined the first. Ravens croaked from the roof of the next apartment building, gathering in conspiratorial twos and threes, stalking the edges, flapping, cawing, and crowing. Maratse turned back to the eagles, content to watch them for a little while, for want of anything better to do in the city.
I’ve often said that I have experienced most (thankfully not all) that I write about in my Greenland stories. The above quote is from Warrior, and the photo above that is of a white-tailed sea eagle soaring above our apartment in Nuuk one day in April. We saw them quite often, and we often saw them in pairs.
Add the ravens from the roof of the next apartment building and, well, these things write themselves!