07/17/2024
Down by Lake Guntersville, behind the front desk at the Little Mountain Camping Marina, Sharon Collins tells visitors to wait and listen.
“It’s been just screeching and screeching and screeching for days,” Collins said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Just wait. You’ll hear her.”
It’s a bald eagle, she and other residents said, tossed out of its nest in June when trees were unceremoniously felled among lush greenery before heavy machinery began extracting chert, a mineral used for construction, from the land.
Collins said the irony’s as thick as the Alabama heat.
She said she’s fighting the planned mine in part for animals like that screeching bald eagle dislodged from its nest: a symbol of democracy in Deep South Alabama, now protected not by public officials, but by everyday people.
“So for politicians to sit back and let this happen is sick,” she said, her voice raised.
Sharon Collins has worked at the marina for decades, her sincere smile and Southern twang meeting every guest at the establishment's front desk.
Inaction from public officials hasn’t slowed Collins down, though. Nothing ever has. At the front desk of Little Mountain Camping Marina, Collins, 66, has been a jack-of-all-trades for decades—a Southern problem-solver full of drawl and drive, getting the day’s work done with a sweet tea smile.
Read the full story from Inside Climate News.
Aside Lake Guntersville, bald eagles are royalty. But locals say a planned chert pit is already changing that status.