Now Our Summer Truly Begins

This morning, 8 am. My good reason for being late to work!

It's official: three heads. 

This makes it the third summer in a row that the ospreys successfully hatched out their offspring limit in the nest on our property. That brings their total reproduction since 2009 to 12.

The interesting thing about this summer is that this sighting of the babies is a week ahead of every previous year (since they laid their first egg on the nest in 2009). Usually, we get to count heads after Canada Day. 

Then again, this osprey season began differently. Normally, one osprey arrives around the 12th of April and about a week later, the other one arrives and they begin mating. This April, however, they both arrived at the same time on April 11 and mating began immediately, as in the night of.  For some reason, this year's mating seemed more frequent and more obvious. Yet their results were consistent: three hatchlings. 

Perhaps they've heard the reports that this is going to be an active hurricane season and they want to be out of here earlier in September. Or maybe they know something we don't: It's going to snow here in September!

Or maybe they were just happy to be home. 

We -- or they, I suppose -- also have had a osprey checking out the nest. We have no way of knowing if it's an offspring from earlier years coming to say hello to his parents or hoping the nest will be vacant and he can take up residence (although it's an eagle trait to take over nests). It gives us hope that another osprey will decide to build a nest on the pole and wheel my husband set up on our vacant lot across the road. When you are a bird otherwise known as the fish hawk, a roost along the river is the best real estate going. 

Regardless of supermoons and solstices, summer doesn't begin for us until we see the babies.  My husband, who is off this summer recovering from shoulder surgery, spends much of his days on the west deck keeping an eye on the nest. He staggers out of bed, blearily fills his coffee mug, mumbles something to me, then heads out to his chair to wake up with coffee and the birds. 

Lucky guy: Can't imagine a better way to start each day.