It's always a relief when the first osprey offspring of the season flies from the nest. It's always a joy to watch their awkwardness in the air, to hear their cries as they flap their wings and figure out what to do with their legs, to see them land for the first time somewhere other than the edge of the nest.
We spent much of Sunday with this lovely one sitting above the back deck in the spruce tree.
And I just happened to be in the right place at the right with the right focus when one of the parents buzzed by the youngster after he'd been sitting in the tree for a couple of hours.
We are indeed blessed to have as neighbours these ospreys, to be so closely aligned with their comings and goings. As I type this, in through my office window comes the sudden onset of chirping -- it's the ospreys food-arriving call. As each young osprey learns to fly, their fishing lessons commence as well. By the end of August, only one, the youngest, will be in the nest calling for food.
No comments:
Post a Comment