When I arise on Monday morning last week, I turn on my TV as usual. As I listen to the angry words, from both sides of the aisle, I fume. Here we are, $16 trillion-plus in debt, and yet we are going to borrow more money. Wish I could just pay my bills like that and kick the final payment down the road for my kids to take care of.

I turn it off and go to my favorite spot for viewing the world around me. As I look out, there is a thin layer of clouds, and on the horizon I can see yellows, purples and blues along that horizon. I draw my view a short distance closer and see the fishermen and their boats plowing furrows in the sea as if farming it. As they plow they pull their pots and harvest the crabs there, reseed the pot and drop it in the furrow to farm more crabs.

I can also see from shore to horizon a sparkling path, caused by the sun shining on the ripples of the ocean. I wonder if the fishermen are viewing the beauty that surrounds them or are their views drawn only to the row of floats that mark their furrow in the sea.

I draw my gaze closer to the shore and notice the rocks around Brother Jonathan Viewpoint are exposed, not dry, yet not really wet. I have not looked at the tide data, so I do not know if it is coming or going.

A few hours later I am interrupted by a big bird flying up into a tree close by my viewing place. It is being chased by a swarm of crows and ravens. It lands on one of the highest branches of a dying tree close by. And the crows and ravens bombard it with their rancorous cries and flying action.

On closer inspection, this is a bald eagle, the emblem of our United States. It sits there seemingly undisturbed by all the action around it, as if to say, "This is my place and I'm going to stay here." So for several hours it remains there, oblivious to the birds around.

On Tuesday morning, again the same is being spewed from the TV, so I turn it off and go to my favorite viewing spot. To my surprise, there is the eagle again up on that top branch, but surprise, surprise, down the beach in the next tree sits another large bird. Today the crows and ravens are not present, so both birds are left to enjoy the sun's warmth.

It turns out that the new bird is a juvenile bald eagle, clad in its brown feather coat. They both seem to be enjoying the warmth of the sun after a cold night. Today they remain there for several hours. Finally, Senior takes off flying to the south. Youngster stays for maybe another half-hour before flying south too.

On Wednesday, it is raining and everything is gray. My attitude is pretty much the same. I've wandered around all day muttering to myself, "What a lousy day." The rain continues all day, with some pretty hard downfalls. Can't wait for this to be over.

On Thursday, no TV this morning. Right after breakfast, to my special viewing place. And wonder of wonders, there they are again. Mr. (or Mrs.) Bald Eagle in the tree down the beach and in the tree next to it, the young one. They remain for only about 45 minutes.

The crows and the ravens are back. They don't seem to be bothering the senior one, but are focusing their attacks on the juvenile. It seems to be bothered more than the parent, and makes movements toward its attackers as they fly around him. Soon they both are gone toward the south. The sky is blue and the sea is somewhat heavier.

Today, the tide is near its highest point, and I'm at peace in "My World."

Robert V. DeVoir is a Crescent City resident.