Totally with you there. Ages ago, my time in Jasper driving the tour boats at Maligne Lake, I used to sit at a picnic table with my lunch. You gotta understand, Maligne Lk. is waaay out of town, 45min drive up a dead end road up the canyon another couple thousand feet and the docks, restaurant, gift shop, fishing guide shack and a ranger station are all that's up there. When we got there end of April to start work there was 10ft of snow covering the whole 20km lake (that's when I realized I was about to learn to how polish a boat, really, really well). That, and study to pass the 40 ton Cdn Coast Grd Masters Sm Craft, plus the big local history and trivia test req'd. We were crews of 2 and alternated each tour who would make a presentation and who skippered the boat. (I think 4 per day, 90 mins each)
Oh right....sorry... and we smoked lots of hash many evenings, always avail and delivered by our Quebecois pals who worked in the kitchen. They had the market cornered and I wasn't gonna be the guy horning in with BC Bud, even though I took regular deliveries of the stuff (My gf at that moment was from Crawford Bay in the Kootenays, part of Canada's green triangle). I made sure they knew it was recreational amounts only and shared with them, those guys were my pals and that's the way I meant to keep it, if you catch my meaning. HI Mods!
Anyway, the picnic table. I'd sit out there and there was a little prairie dog family living under a rock ten ft. away. One day I offered out a piece of cheese from my sandwich to poppa prairie dog who popped his head out to see what's what. Slowly he crawled out of his home and crept closer and closer to possibly take the nice thick cheddar chunk right from my hand. When he was a foot away from my outstretched hand suddenly everything went blurry, got windy and something felt like it brushed my face and hair... and then, no more prairie dog. I looked to my left and he was in the talons of a bald eagle squealing away. The cheese still in my outstretched, frozen in time, hand. Man, it was an awesome display and a heartbreaker. That huge eagle was so close to my face going by it felt like it hit me even though it didn't. My jaw was slack, but my hand still outstretched when I finally stopped watching the departing drama and realized that Mrs. Prairie Dog had just crawled out of the hole looking for her husband, recognizing his death cries as he was swept away. I'll never forget the look on her face as I sat there still outstretched with that damning piece of cheese in hand, she knew exactly what just went down and called me "murderer" with her eyes. She cried out for him just once, then returned to her hovel no doubt to go tell Johnny and Susy Prairie Dog that Daddy wasn't coming home. I may or may not have misted up 15 mins later when the adrenaline finally stopped flowing.
Had plenty of similar experiences since but they all remind me of that one. I always feel sad for the prey and impressed by the skill and daring of the predator, they risk all every time they go in for the kill. High drama. When we humans complicate things the stakes only seem to go up.
and I’m not sure about this sun you speak of starting to think it’s a urban legend but rain is better then snow my friend 
