Looking at the world through the eyes of a three year and a seven year old is a refreshing experience. Pretty much everything is a miracle, there’s so much awe and wonder. Look Farmor, a bird! Take a picture! And I did. Again and again.
We were on a cruise outside St. Augustine last weekend. It is a beautiful historic city, founded in 1565, and lays the claim on being the oldest city in the US. So much excitement on land and on the water. Like dolphins swimming by.
And the seven year old knows an Osprey when she sees one. So proud of her.
We saw manmade birds too. Some were coming to old age already, but still flying high.
And the shores were sprinkled with historic buildings, like the Castillo de San Marcos from 1695, the colorful Flagler college with buildings from 1888 and the Lighthouse, which has a long history going back to early 1800’s.
And, as usual, I did a ‘bird walk’ with the seven year old (and Dylan) every morning around their neighborhood. This time we only spotted a lonely Canada Goose, and speculated on where the usual birds might have gone.
She also speculated on my age. I told her I was quite old being her farmor (grandma in Swedish). I told her my age was a secret, but she could guess. I asked her to write my age on her writing tablet. She wrote…20. She smiled and looked at me for confirmation. I laughed and said she was kind. No wonder I was ‘carded’ by a young man last year buying wine at a local store 😀
Coming home at sunset time earlier this week, Dylan and I took a walk though the salt marsh – to and from the dog park. He had to see his friends. And I had to check on the Osprey nest. From afar, we could see Mama Sandy on the perch, but the chicks were laying low. I assumed Papa Stanley was fetching dinner.
We spotted a few friends at this late hour. Mr. Moorhen was around…talking to himself.
And the Mottled Duck couple was getting some supper.
The Mayor was not at home. We decided to check the bay side on our way home. And right away, we spotted a Yellow-Crowned Night Heron …for the first time ever fishing on the bay.
And then I saw a familiar figure flying high above the bay, scanning for dinner for his family. That was Papa Stanley.
I followed him for about 10 minutes while Dylan sat patiently (he got a treat). I saw Stanley dive for fish twice. The Laughing Gull just below the seawall cheered on him vigorously. But unfortunately he didn’t catch a fish.
Stanley was close to the opposite shore so my pictures of his dive in the dim light are very soft.
He then flew north on the intracoastal waterway and I could not see him anymore. But I’m sure he brought a fish to his kids just before dark.
Yesterday around lunch time I got a chance to take a short walk at the marsh on my own. I really wanted to confirm whether there were two or three chicks in Osprey nest. You see, I have not been able to get any “proper” picture of the 3rd chick I thought I saw in one of my grainy pictures taken from our terrace over two weeks ago. When I approached the park, I saw Stanley eating on a lamp-post at the Sailing Center.
As I arrived at the nest, I could hear that the babies have learned to talk while I was away. They were singing the familiar song ‘bring me fish, daddy’ – and soon Stanley obliged.
He had eaten the head and brought the rest to Sandy. She started feeding the chicks. Two chicks. So now I prefer to think that I suffered a bout of vivid imagination when I thought I saw three chicks that day over two weeks ago.
With the sun right in my face, I watched the feeding for a while and then walked around to see who else might be at home. And I saw a whole bunch of friends at this lunch hour. The Tri-colored Heron was obviously interested in the Ibis flying overhead.
The Reddish Egret, the Clown, was performing his fishing dance and puffing up his red feathers.
The Ibis was alone with his thoughts.
And the Little Blue Heron appeared bluer than ever. Yet upbeat.
And…surprise! The Yellow-Crowned Night Heron was out and about in bright daylight.
When I walked home, I decided to take a few pictures of the Osprey nest from the street very far away…to see the chicks when the perspective flattens and almost the whole nest is visible. And they did not disappoint.
They were talking to each other and flexing their little wings. I am happy that both of them are about the same size…about five weeks old now. In 3-4 weeks they will be fledging…and we will be able to tell whether they are boys or girls.
In a few days I will be off to some adventures at a much bigger marsh. But since it will be all pleasure and no work, I’ll be in touch. Have a wonderful weekend. Peace.
The birds that are most represented among the permanent residents are the pelicans, both the White Pelicans and the Brown Pelicans. They tend to get hurt by human activity on the water. This warm day several of them were bathing in the many pools, large and small placed everywhere in their aviaries. Or preening to look their Sunday best.
My friend the American Oyster Catcher was there too, and appeared to be doing better than last time I saw it.
On this Sunday, several other birds were visiting their relatives at the sanctuary, like these American Black vultures.
I also counted more than 50 nests high in the trees around the sanctuary. I believe birds feel this is a protected zone and are confident building nests in the trees around the park. Here a mama pelican peers down from her nest high up in a tall tree, and a Black-Crowned Night Heron nods off at her nest.
It was a wonderful, life-affirming visit, as always.
If only the earth would be a sanctuary for all its inhabitants.
The sunset was as beautiful as ever. Shore birds were running around at the water’s edge and little sand crabs hurried into their homes for the night.
The sun disappeared into the ocean leaving a soft glow on the skies. I thought about the beautiful Irish blessing “May every sunset hold more peace.”
With that thought I wish you all a wonderful weekend. I will be traveling to spend time with the youngest generation of our family. It always gives me hope. Just like the Osprey chicks.
I waited. No parent came back. And suddenly the first-born got very anxious, flexed its tiny featherless wings and screamed from the bottom of its lungs. Ma-ma! The second-born lifted up its head as well. They were alarmed.
Then, after several minutes, one of the parents landed on the perch. It was impossible to tell which one. I assumed it was Papa Stanley because Mama Sandy would have landed in the nest. All kinds of thoughts flew through my mind on what might have happened to Sandy. You see, normally she would not leave the chicks alone before they are six weeks old, and these chicks were hardly three weeks old last Tuesday.
Right after finishing my dinner I checked on the nest again. Someone was feeding the chicks! It looked like Sandy. And – 
But I couldn’t be sure it was Sandy until I saw her much closer – from the ground. So out we went, Dylan and I. He knew his mom was on a mission and sat down every time I took pictures.
It was late in the day, almost 7:30 p.m., but I was able to confirm Sandy was back with her chicks. That was a great relief.
Perhaps Sandy had gotten tired of waiting for dinner and had decided to go fishing herself. For a change. And in the process almost gave me a heart attack.
And the Mayor was there patrolling the waters, as always.
And just before the darkness fell, I spotted a Red-winged Backbird. I know he is nesting at the marsh right now, just like last year.
On the bay side, walking back home, we saw a Willet utilizing the low tide to get herself some supper.
Yesterday morning I took a quick walk around the marsh, mostly to check on the Osprey chicks. The whole family was gathered. Sandy was feeding the chicks, who had grown a lot since Tuesday.
I could only see two of them, but it doesn’t mean that the last-born wasn’t there. The first-born and the middle chick are almost the same size, born only a day apart, while the last chick was probably born two days after the middle chick. At this time in their development four days make a huge difference.
The oldest chick is just over three weeks old now and has already learned a lot, like mimicking Sandy when she sounded a warning to a pelican flying over the nest.
I had to smile. It has also discovered its wings and is trying to flex them a bit already. In the picture below, Sandy is probably feeding the little one, whom she wisely keeps a bit separated from the two older ones. I am hoping the tiny last-born will survive. Its chances to fledge are statistically only about 38%. But then, Sandy is an exceptional mother and Stanley is a great provider.
When walking quickly around the marsh, I got a fourth surprise. Henry, the mischievous young Great Blue Heron, who used to attack the Osprey nest in 2015, was back. He is still much smaller than the Mayor, and was keenly watching the nest from the north side of the marsh. Not again, I thought.
I was trying to move closer to get a clear shot when I heard heavy wing beats. The Mayor was approaching, fast. I was so surprised that I didn’t even get a clear picture of him chasing away young Henry. But here is the end tail of that action.
Happy being firmly in charge of the city again, the Mayor settled at the far end of the marsh.
Everything was good again. When I left to go home, the courting Mottled Duck couple cruised the calm waters just below the Osprey nest.
We all wish you Happy Easter.
The approaching spring was evident, but so was the stress level. Luckily Dylan has trained me well so I could keep up with the people buzzing on the streets.
I managed to run fast, sit in countless meetings and accomplish my mission. But it felt good when I was finally on my way back home.
The darkening city after sunset looked deceptively peaceful from the skies.
It took a couple of days of dipping my toes into the serenity here at home before I felt the last traces of stress leaving my body. But I knew where the medicine cabinet was. At the salt marsh. Dylan and I went for a walk there late on Saturday – after I had spotted two tiny chicks in the nest from our terrace. The sun had already set when we walked the south side of the marsh right below the Osprey nest. I was breathing peace. Papa Stanley sat on the perch, and while he’s usually not tolerating people who walk there, he didn’t say a peep when Dylan and I admired him…and the moon. He just nodded his greeting.
Then, finally, this morning, I took a long walk at the salt marsh. And boy, did I feel welcomed by all! The first thing I spotted, even before reaching the park, was the Little Blue Heron. He was confidently balancing on the wooden fence.
And when I looked up, I saw Papa Stanley returning to the nest with a brand new mattress for the babies.
Mama Sandy was shielding the babies from the sun, and paparazzi, but soon she got up and started making the bed. And reinforcing the 
Then she sat down again and realized it was lunch time. She asked Stanley, in no uncertain terms, to go fishing. Right now.
He obliged, and I walked around the marsh to say hello to the residents who happened to be at home. First I spotted a visitor from the bay side, a Cormorant, close to the nest.
And then I saw the older Great Blue Heron, the Mayor. He was standing in the shallow water and shaking his feathers. It looks more and more likely that he has a nest at the marsh. You see, last year during the nesting season I hardly saw him, and now he is present every time I visit, including late at night. He even posed for a portrait as soon as he had settled in his office.
It’s always reassuring to see him. To my delight I saw that the “Clown”, aka the Reddish Egret, was there too. He was faithful to his manners and put up a show in the middle of the marsh. I tried to tell him to come closer, but somehow he preferred the waters far away.
But then I finally realized why he stayed right there. Silly me. He had an admirer! A beautiful, shy lady was observing him from an islet closer to me…straight line of sight.
Hmm. Maybe something’s going on there. I continued my walk and spotted a Great Egret walking on the east fence. Look at that neck!
And her smaller cousin, a Snowy Egret was walking in the water nearby in her beautiful breeding plumage.
Papa Moorhen was minding his own business, or perhaps he was looking for some good bites to take back to Mama in the nest.
Arriving back to the Osprey nest, I noticed some White Ibis foraging in the grass.
And suddenly something bright red flew past me. And then something orange swished by. I realized I had spotted the first Northern Cardinal couple at the marsh, ever. Yay!
They looked for food in the grass, and I was so focused on them that I didn’t notice Papa Stanley had returned with a fish. He had already given it to Sandy and was sitting on the perch while Sandy was feeding the chicks.
So I started to walk home. Happy after seeing so many friends at the marsh, but a bit disappointed because I knew there were at least two chicks in the nest I wasn’t able to see. Reaching the street, I looked at back at the nest. And couldn’t believe my eyes. I spotted two little heads reaching for food!
There could very well be three of them because it looked like they were in different places. Time will tell. But I am happy I could see them, and my last shot of the first-born was quite decent.
They are not yet pretty, but will be in a few weeks. Whether they are two or three, I hope all of them will survive. Exciting times, indeed.
One of them took off immediately and sat down to digest his meal, but the rest stayed on the water to enjoy the soft evening glow.
A lone Oyster Catcher was having his dinner near the sea wall, where the low tide had revealed a rich smorgasbord.
Before we left the bay side, we spotted the younger Great Blue Heron, whom I haven’t seen in a couple of months. He was making plans for the evening under the Sailing Center pier.
When we walked through the marsh towards the dog park, we saw Papa Stanley in a pine tree close to the nest. He spotted us too and nodded his greeting.
He was facing the nest, where Mama Sandy was brooding the chicks basking in the last rays still reaching the salt marsh.
Dylan spent a few minutes running with his friends at the dog park, including one of his first friends there, Saki.
When we walked back past the nest Papa Stanley was there too, drying his feathers and facing the setting sun. Perhaps he had brought home some evening snacks.
I have seen from my terrace that Sandy is now brooding the chicks and feeding them small bites of fish. But their new home is paparazzi-safe. The nest cup is so deep that I have not yet gotten a good picture of the new generation. However, I am concluding from Sandy’s feeding pattern that they have 2-3 babies…about 10-12 days old by now. It’s funny how they always notice me taking pictures from my terrace although I am more than a block away from the nest.
Then yesterday I finally had a chance to do a solo walk at the marsh in bright daylight. It was interesting to note that Sandy left the nest twice for a minute or so. When Stanley was there looking after the kids, she flew to the middle of the marsh and brought back something small, holding it very carefully in both her talons.
I have seen this also in previous years and always wondered what it is she brings back to the nest. The fact that Sandy now leaves the nest also tells me the chicks are more than 10 days old. She does not need to brood continuously any more. I just hope to see a little head, or more, soon. After twice leaving and bringing in some mysterious stuff, Sandy left Stanley in charge and went out once more for a short excursion. Perhaps she just wanted some exercise because she came back empty handed.
I walked around the marsh and saw a few friends. The Mayor was back in his office on the tiny islet. It looked like he was firmly in control of this small ‘city’. That was reassuring.
The Tri-Colored heron was foraging in the shallows – and little later on I saw him catch a small fish.
The Little Blue Heron was also there with the tiny Snowy Egret. I am thinking these guys are too young to form a family as yet.
Then I saw Stanley leave the nest. He flew towards the ocean. But in a couple of minutes he returned to the marsh. He didn’t fly to the nest empty-handed, that would’ve been a mistake, instead he settled on a cypress tree far away from the nest.
He sat there for a few minutes resting, then flew towards the bay. I hope he had better luck there. I saw many other smaller birds on this weekend walk, but those images will need to come in a future post.
I have a short work trip coming up in the beginning of the week and wish you all a wonderful week.
TINY LESSONS BLOG 