Waiting and Watching

All is not well in Ospreyland.
The second osprey, the mate, has not returned. Yet. Like our friend sitting in the nest, watching and waiting, we are not giving up hope.
It's been almost a week since she -- for we decided to pick a gender for simplicity's sake -- arrived and there has been no sign of any other osprey. This hasn't happened before; in fact, last year, for the first time, they arrived together.
When the first osprey arrives, this is the routine: he, or she, sits on the next then flies away for the first night. Returns the next day, eventually, but is gone for much of it. By then, the second osprey has arrived and there is usually one bird in the nest until August.
Today will mark day two of our fish hawk's now-constant presence in the nest.  Waiting and watching.
She reminds me of a fisherman's wife. Not knowing what is happening, only imagining what could happen, what did happen. Perhaps never knowing. That's the hard part. Not knowing. Waiting and watching and not knowing.
Do birds hope? Do they wonder? Do they worry?
Will she wait all summer?