On the afternoon of March 1, 2026, The Big Bear eagles incubation routine took a charmingly stubborn turn. The eggs were safe, the forest was quiet, and Shadow was settled low in the nest bowl like he had personally signed a long-term lease. Then Jackie returned, and what should have been a quick shift change turned into a gentle, funny little standstill.
On March 2, 2026, The morning started the way strong eagle mornings often do, with Decorah Dad arriving home carrying breakfast. Decorah’s Hatchery Dad swept into the nest with a fresh fish clutched in his talons. Below him, Mom remained settled low in the nest bowl, carefully incubating their two eggs. The late winter sun lit the nest in soft gold, and everything about the moment felt calm and steady.
There are moments at a nest when the air shifts, and everyone watching can feel it. At the Southwest Florida eagle nest, that shift came quietly. Eagle mom, F23 has not been seen since the morning of February 27. No dramatic exit. No visible struggle. Just vanished. And in that absence, the weight of the nest changed.
On the morning of February 28, 2026, as the first light crept over Big Bear Lake, something quietly changed in the nest. Jackie had guarded her eggs through the night. The forest was still. The air was cold. Then she lifted her head and began calling into the valley. Her morning vocals were strong and deliberate, echoing across the trees. Shadow answered. Within moments, she rose from the nest bowl and flew toward the Lookout Snag for her sunrise break. And that is when it happened. Shadow flew in to relieve her — and discovered there were now two eggs waiting in the nest.
The nest doesn’t just hold one promise anymore. On the evening of February 26, 2026, Ma Vrain quietly added egg…