Maybe he is a chef. Or a fisherman. Or even perhaps an eccentric recluse.
He drove up to this meadow in a beat-up red Honda and pulled out a pail of salmon pieces from his truck. He walked up to the tree line and threw in a few pieces to the feral cats that were waiting for him. Then he walked to the other side and fed a fox that was too shy to step out of the shade.
Then he dumped the rest of the pail into the middle of the meadow.
For a few minutes nothing. Then swoosh.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
Majestic bald eagles, with wing spans as wide as six feet dove down, gliding, with their talons outstretched picked up the salmon, and clumps of grass with it, and with a few strokes of their massive wings rose to the top of the trees.
Again and again and again.
As he left, I said "Thank You". "Enjoy", he muttered and was gone.
