It’s been a busy two weeks since we last checked on the Osprey Family. The week after my last update, Dylan and I went by the nest late one evening, but it was really windy and Mama Sandy was covering the chick. Nothing to be seen. Other than the waxing moon. Presented here for evidence.
Yesterday, after I had returned from my latest work trip on Friday night, we went to the salt marsh twice. We found the Osprey Family all gathered in the nest for some late-morning family time.
Papa Stanley took a nap on the perch, but his sleep was interrupted by Sandy reminding him it was time to fetch lunch. And that’s when I saw it. The chick is a girl! She looks just like her mom, with a ‘necklace’ already at six weeks of age. She had grown beautiful feathers and was as alert as ever.
Stanley is quite funny. He never leaves on a fishing trip right away when Sandy asks for food. HeĀ flew down from his perch and parked himself in the nest for a while. Sandy continued her “we-want-fish-fish” song and the little one chimed in a couple of times. It was obvious she had learned to talk.
Finally Stanley glanced at his watch and saw it was lunch time. He left for his 3rd fishing trip of the day. Both females observed his departure. Better late than never, they seemed to think. And then they settled side by side to observe the life at the marsh. Sandy soon nodded off, but the chick was watching her environment. Perhaps already dreaming of flying.
She could see the ‘Clown’ down below. He was playing peek-a-boo with the chick.
And little further away Papa Moorhen was inspecting his territory.
We went home before Stanley returned. But when we walked back in the evening it was like we never left. Stanley had a newly caught fish. He was eating the head on ‘his’ lamp-post, like he always does before he gives the fish to Sandy.
But then I discovered an Osprey flying high above the street. It was Sandy.
So who was with the chick? Nobody! She was lying low in the nest all by herself while mama was stretching her wings and flying around just for the fun of it. Now that the chick is six weeks old, Sandy is free to do just that…and even go fishing should she feel for it.
After a few minutes of pre-dinner exercise Sandy returned to her chick. She was watching the setting sun and waiting for Stanley to drop off the fish.
We walked to the dog park passing right below the nest and discovered several familiar faces. Harry the trouble-maker, the younger Great Blue Heron, was hiding in the high grass.
He didn’t want to be seen and I soon understood why. The Mayor was marching around at the beach end of the marsh.
Usually there’s not enough space for the two of them at the marsh, but this time Harry was not spotted. A Yellow-crowned Night Heron could see both of them from his sun-soaked islet, but he didn’t tell.
Dylan sat down as in waiting for some drama to occur, but there was none. A Mourning Dove sat on a branch just above my assistant and enjoyed the peace of the evening.
We went to the dog park and when we returned the sun was setting over the salt marsh.
It was almost dark, but we saw some movement in the water. Miss Rosa was out and about getting her late night snack. I didn’t think the light would be enough to get anything but a pink blob, but in one picture you can actually see her. A little.
Soon there was only the full moon.
I’m sure that Dylan, keeping with the tradition, will invite you all to provide name suggestions for the new osprey girl and reveal the lottery prize in the next post š Thank you for visiting and have a wonderful week.
Finally yesterday, my assistant and I had an opportunity to get out and check on the osprey chick. We arrived soon after the family brunch. Papa Stanley was still on the perch, guarding his little family from intruders. The baby was sleeping and Mama Sandy nodded off for a while as well. She shielded her baby from the sun and the wind that was already picking up.
But soon Stanley saw a danger in the skies (beyond my horizon) and sounded frequent loud warnings.
The chick woke up and peered out from behind the baby gate with its head lowered. Sandy became alert too, but nobody came close to the nest.
The salt marsh appeared deserted. The only other bird present was the Reddish Egret. And he was completely absorbed in his hunting dance.
At sunset time Dylan took me for another walk. He loves to walk on the bayside and look down to the water. I don’t mind such a detour because I often spot birds enjoying the low tide next to the sea wall. And we were lucky. Two Oystercatchers were looking for supper.
And a bit further away, a Great Egret was enjoying the last rays of the day.
The sun was still up when we reached the salt marsh. We found the younger Great Blue Heron, aka Henry the Troublemaker, on his usual spot staring at the osprey nest.
And a beautiful Snowy Egret was looking for her evening meal. And checking us out.
A Yellow-crowned Night Heron had woken up to get his breakfast. He was planning his hunt on the little islet that also serves as the Mayor’s office. The Mayor was nowhere to be seen.
When we approached the Osprey nest we heard the typical whistles of the Red-winged Blackbird. Finally I spotted one smack in the middle of the marsh.
Then Dylan alerted me to a lovely Mourning Dove walking right on our path. It was not eager to meet us and hurried away.
We found Stanley on his guard post. He nodded a friendly good evening to us. But Sandy was hunkering down over the baby and we could only see a few feathers sticking up.
Just before dark we finally reached the dog park and my assistant got a well deserved rest after walking around the marsh and running back and forth at the park.
When we returned to go home it was already dark. Stanley had gone to his sleeping quarters, but we saw Sandy in the nest beautifully silhouetted against the sunset’s after-glow.
This afternoon the skies darkened and the storms arrived. Right now I can hardly see the osprey nest from my terrace through the heavy rains. Gray walls of water are swept sideways by the strong winds. I went out quickly and took one picture. Sandy had placed her baby in the nest cup and was shielding it from the elements with her wings. Even her head was down. Possibly to reassure the baby that this too shall pass. She knows her stuff.
With that we wish you a great week ahead and hope it will be sunny and bright. Thank you for visiting.
On our front lawn, we were met by a puffed up Mourning Dove. It had been chilly, according to Florida standards of course, in the last few days. And the sun had not yet warmed up the grass.
On arrival, we spotted lots of white everywhere around the marsh. Several families of Great Egrets, a few Snowy Egrets and White Ibis were having breakfast under the watchful eye of the Mayor. The older Great Blue Heron had parked himself at the far end of the marsh to ensure an adequate overview of what was going on around the breakfast buffet.
Some Great Egrets were fishing, seemingly not with much success despite valiant efforts …
…while others demonstrated a double catch.
A few were still flying in …
…some were chasing each other…
…and yet others were flying around just for the fun of it.
Some had found their own perfect spot in the sun to air their beautiful breeding plumage. Like this Great Egret who had decided to rent the Mayor’s office…
…and this Snowy Egret, who had found a private sunny spot close to the osprey nest.
Suddenly we heard a familiar sound. A high-pitched warning call. And not only by one osprey, but two. Papa Stanley was eating his breakfast at a lamp-post just outside the marsh. He stopped eating and sounded repeated warning calls…
…while Mama Sandy sounded the alarm from the nest where she was sitting on the eggs. It took me a while to localize the threat in the sky. It was another, to me unknown, Osprey. He flew towards the nest and peered down right on Sandy.
Despite the duet of warning calls, the newcomer circled several times around the nest and finally Sandy couldn’t take it anymore. She got up, left the eggs and flew towards the forest after the intruder. I have never seen her do such a daring maneuver while incubating.
I lost sight of her for a minute or two, but then she landed back in the nest. Phew. As you can see, she was very careful not to hit the nest cup in the middle of the nest. Her talons were drawn in and her eyes were trained on the eggs.
She had been successful in chasing away the intruder, but stood up for a while checking he was really gone.
…Stanley went back to eating his fish…
…and Sandy went back to incubating.
I was glad there was a happy ending to this 
If I wanted to go on the “Photographer’s Tour”, I had to be at the festival grounds at 7 a.m. on Saturday morning. So I drove south in the congested traffic on Friday afternoon for over three hours and spent the night at a hotel. But only after filling my ‘tank’ at a great Mexican establishment. Fajitas (enough) for two enjoyed by me and myself.
Appropriately fortified by a rare 6 a.m. breakfast, I arrived at our meet-up-location on time. And boarded a Parks and Recreation bus with The Photographers. Most with their massive 600mm lenses and tripods, weighing over 10 lbs/5 kg. I tried to carry one of these combinations. Ouch. To tell you the truth, I’d need to go to the gym just to be able to lift that kind of equipment to eye level. So there I was with a ‘tiny’ 70-300 mm lens on my Canon and my “jogging camera”, a light-weight compact superzoom. Feeling a bit intimidated, but hopeful the owls would treat me well. And they did. Relatively speaking.
We arrived at a sports field. There was an active burrow with both parents preparing for the nesting season. Only one greeted us when we arrived, but soon the other parent (I believe the female) also came out and they posed for us together. Too cute.
Soon one of them, I believe the mom-to-be, decided it was time to continue to make their home ready for the little ones…
…and disappeared down in the burrow. The dad-to-be stayed above ground to keep an eye on us.
Although we were well-behaved, I could see he was on his guard. We soon discovered there were Monk Parakeets on the sports field. Among them a sweet courting couple.
I was delighted to be able to observe this couple as we do not have this species in our area. Beautiful love birds.
From there our journey continued to another site known to host much larger owls, namely Great-horned Owls. We discovered they already had fledglings. One ‘baby’ was sleeping high up in a pine tree.
His mother was nearby, well camouflaged behind branches in the same tree.
Perhaps we made some unintended noise because the ‘baby’ woke up. And seemed to nail his big yellow eyes right on me. Howdy!
Just for the record, we saw the other ‘baby’ in a close-by tree, but papa Great-horned Owl was nowhere to be found. We believed he might be sleeping in a another tree away from the mom and the babies. Perhaps seeking some privacy after a night of hunting.
After a while they became curious. And before we knew it, two of them came to greet us! They sat on heads of photographers who wore hats…
On that field I also captured more familiar birds, a couple of Mourning Doves on a wire in the distance.
But I missed the Eastern Meadow Lark’s brief appearance while trying to zoom in on an approaching young Bald Eagle. And didn’t get good pictures of several other smaller birds. You just can’t have everything.
We continued our journey trying to locate a Bald Eagle nest. We found both Papa and Mama Bald Eagle. With mixed feelings.
A note on the road side told us that this couple had lost all three of their hatchlings for unknown reasons about two weeks earlier.Ā The note further speculated thatĀ the reason the parents hadn’t left the nest might be that a second clutch of eggs was forthcoming. I hope the author was right as Mama Eagle stayed firmly in the nest…
And Papa was guarding their home just a branch or two higher up.
I wished them the best and took a portrait of them both.
After he trusted us a bit more, he flew closer to the burrow and soon we saw his ‘better half’ for a brief moment.
After posing for us, she went down again and started working on their burrow. Fine sand flew out in waves right on the face of her hubby.
She demonstrated an ability which is unique to Florida Burrowing Owls, namely that they dig their own burrows. At first her hubby closed his eyes and took the intense sand blast, but soon realized that the remodeling effort had just started, and flew up on a perch nearby.
I truly enjoyed this tour with our fantastic guides, Tammy and David McQuade. And needless to say, these tiny owls captured my heart. I hope I can go back to see them next year. And if I do, I will be a little better equipped. My new 3.62 pound ‘baby’ arrived a couple of days ago.
The good thing is that I will not need to go to the gym to be able to hold it. I just need to be a good parent and teach it to do exactly what I ask for š Wish me luck.
This nest had weathered Hurricane Irma, while some others had not. Soon I discovered a female Osprey working on a new nest. It was still very small and far from ready for eggs. And I couldn’t help wondering if her nest had been blown down by Irma. And where was her hubby? He should be busy shuttling in building materials.
Soon enough I found him. He was taking a break in a nearby tree. I sure hoped he was hatching plans for a lengthy work shift in the afternoon.
We continued our hike and Dylan greeted about a dozen dogs who had taken their moms or dads out too. Then I spotted yet another variation on the osprey nest. But there was something odd about it. There was no Osprey. Instead I saw two ears sticking up from the middle of the nest. Look carefully and you’ll see the ears of mom Great-horned Owl. It appeared she was already incubating.
Oh dear. Could the nest she had been using have blown down by the hurricane? And she just settled in this osprey nest instead? Might this be the nest of the couple now working on new construction? It certainly looked like that. You see, Great-horned owls do not build their own nest. Instead, they raise their young in nests built by other birds.Ā I knew dad Great-horned Owl had to be somewhere in the vicinity of this nest. Although well camouflaged I found him soon enough. He was napping at the top of a very tall pine tree.
Dylan almost lost his patience following me around the tree as I was trying to get a clear picture of him. But despite our best efforts to get his attention, he continued to sleep among the long needles and branches. He never looked down.
Dylan even asked me if he should start barking, but I told him no. Maybe that poor owl had been hunting all night. A Mourning Dove offered a consolation prize. She was readily available for a photo session.
We continued our hike and discovered a great variety of dead trees available for new nests.
Closer to home, Mama Sandy and Papa Stanley have made tremendous progress on their nest left thinly furnished by Irma. We found them both at home yesterday.
Stanley had guard duty, while Sandy was working an a large Hogfish presumably brought home by hubby.
Dylan’s employment contract as my photo assistant is conditional to first visiting the dog park. So we left the happy couple to enjoy their lunch.
We approached carefully, but finally he discovered us too.
We noticed from the distance that the osprey nest was empty. I assumed Stanley, faithful to his habits, had taken the rest of the fish and gone to eat his lunch in privacy. And that Sandy had taken an exercise flight after all that eating. Right then Sandy landed back on the perch.
And I soon understood why she had hurried back. A Turkey Vulture was approaching the nest.
Sandy let him know in no uncertain terms that he was not wanted in the vicinity of her home.
He left. She calmed down. And we walked past her right below the nest.
She doesn’t like to see dogs right next to the nest. I have witnessed her dog alarms on multiple occasions. But she didn’t say a peep. Nor did she move her head back and forth – a sure sign of irritation. She just took a long glance at Mr. D. and decided he couldn’t fly. Or maybe she trusts the two of us?
The only other bird we spotted at the marsh yesterday was the older Great Blue Heron, aka the Mayor. He was patrolling the shallow waters and looked happy with the peaceful scene.
When we got back on the trail to go home, we saw the Great Egret again. His beautiful breeding plumage and the green ‘wedding painting’ on his face told me he was looking for a mate.
Thanks for coming along to see some 
I have to say the salt marsh fared quite well. Most of the old, tall trees are still standing. But the debris took weeks to clear out.
When I visited the park on my day at home between the storm and my trip to Europe, there were no birds. They had all stayed at their evacuation resorts. Apart from one.
Papa Stanley was perching at the sailing center. He had returned to check out his forest and his home. Or maybe he was looking for Mama Sandy. I’m pretty sure he saw the nest had not been damaged…before he took off again.
When I came back from my trip in October most of the debris had been hauled away and I found this ‘monument’ at a small clearing where several trees had fallen. But only a couple of birds had returned. Among those Mama Sandy. She was perching at the nest looking a bit tousled, very serious and definitely wet. It was good to see that she, too, had made it through the storm. But now Papa Stanley was nowhere to be seen.
A lonely Tri-colored Heron was trying to figure out how to find something to eat despite the still very high water levels at the marsh. And that was it. The evacuees were slow to return.
Late that evening, Dylan and I spotted the young Great Blue Heron on the bay. He too seemed to wonder where everyone had gone.
And so it continued for about three weeks. I started to get worried about Papa Stanley. He had made it through Irma’s 120 m/h wind gusts, but why was he not home? And where were all the other residents, including the Mayor, the Clown and Miss Rosa?
Then one morning in early November I looked out of my office window and discovered a large gathering at the marsh. That was a great sight…and out I ran to witness the return of the evacuees and the migrating visitors.
Finally the marsh was busy. Great Egrets, Snowy Egrets, Ibis, Wood Storks and others.
The younger GBH, who now looks very much like the Mayor, was patrolling the waters in his typical manner, pretending to be the boss. Some of the Wood Storks gave him the look.
That’s when I saw a familiar fellow in the corner of my eye. The Mayor had returned! He was foraging far away, completely undisturbed.
Knowing the history of these two, I thought things might get interesting. And before long, the Mayor discovered his young rival. He decided to check on the youngster.
The young fellow noticed the developments. But he didn’t back off from his newly acquired position of power. Looking determined he continued his march…
… until he realized the Mayor was running on water. And closing in on him.
The Mayor took a detour onto a grassy islet, but continued his approach with determination.
Tension was building. Everybody was watching.
That’s when I discovered that the Reddish Egret, the Clown, had returned. He was not performing his usual tricks. Instead, he stood frozen in place under some mangroves. Watching.
The little Snowy Egret, who was hiding in the grass close to the scene, decided it was better to keep some distance. One never knew what could happen.
The Mayor continued his march, and finally the two ‘great blues’ were face to face.
And this is what happened…
A couple of days ago, Dylan and I went to the dog park in the middle of the day…and found the same crowd at the marsh – minus the younger ‘great blue’. The party was still going on. The Clown discovered my camera and decided to perform an elaborate bathing ritual for his captive audience.
We left this delightful ‘photobomber’ happily sitting in the shallow water. Normalcy has returned to the salt marsh.
Some of you may wonder what happened to Miss Rosa. I was pondering that too, until the other night. Dylan and I discovered her all alone at the marsh at sunset time. And she was there even last night. She is definitely back home too.
Opening my terrace door this morning, I discovered that both Mama Sandy and Papa Stanley were at the nest. That was remarkable. But Stanley’s early visit didn’t last long. Sandy told him in no uncertain terms to wait at least 4-5 more weeks. And promptly chased him away. He will be allowed in the nest only after a proposal dance and a special gift delivery. Traditions have to be respected. And everything has its right time.
I noted that Irma, however powerful, had not been able to sweep the nest clean of building materials Sandy had put in place last year. But this couple will still need to do quite a bit of remodeling when the nesting season starts at the end of December.
And a Northern Mockingbird decided that a fat worm was worth the risk of staying close by.
Ā Then I saw several tiny birds, Pine Warblers I thought,Ā playing around in a cypress tree. They were moving very fast and almost impossible to spot high up in a tree.
That’s when I sensed thatĀ something was up at the osprey nest. Papa Stanley was onĀ incoming.
And he didn’t come empty-handed. He had been fishing and brought a whole fish to Sandy. A small mid-morning surprise, which Sandy gratefully accepted.
The fish changed hands. Stanley inspected the egg(s) and started his incubation shift. Sandy flew up on the perch to enjoy her meal.
That was a smooth shift change, less than a minute. Not one word was said, both knew exactly how this was done. They are such 
And, as usual, the Little Blue Heron was present too. He was looking for food in the shallow part of the marsh.
At the beach-end of the marsh I spotted a visitor. First I thought it was an American Bittern, but concluded it might have been a juvenile Green Heron. They tend to be very ‘streaky’ on their chest.
There were several Ibis around and a few Night Herons were sleeping in the bushes.
Walking back towards the osprey nest, I saw the Mayor fly in. He settled next to the water management installation, but kept off of it. I think he knows how to read.
I saw Sandy had eaten her fish, butĀ was still on her break. Just then, almost exactly 30 minutes fromĀ the time she received the fish, she flew back to the nest to relieve Stanley.
The second shift change was as efficient as the first one.Ā One up,Ā side by side, one down. Done.
Sandy was back incubating and Stanley flew away. Walking home by the bay side, I discovered he had parked himself on the wind device at the Sailing Center. Ready for the next fishing trip.
I also spotted a remarkable 12-person row-boat on the bay. First I thought there were several boats next to each other, but realized it was all one boat. A strange-looking ‘installation’.Ā I have never seen anything like this before, have you?
Last night Dylan wanted to go to the dog park and we passed by the osprey nest coming home in the dusk. From far I saw Stanley returning to the nest. He sat down onĀ the perch, perhaps ready for a short night shift. It was cloudy and almost dark, but I shot one picture towards the osprey nest from the foot path we followed. As the night fell, papa was sitting right there with mama.
We all wish you a wonderful week. Stay positive.
Arriving there, I saw things were lively at the Osprey family home. Papa Stanley brought a fish to Sandy, whoĀ had beenĀ busyĀ decorating the nursery in the middle of the nest.
She took the fish, and I thought she would fly away to enjoy it. Like she had when I last sawĀ her before my trip.
But this time she stayed at the nest. Just flew up onto the perch to eat her lunch. When you are close to the time, you better not go too far from home. She new that.
I left Sandy to enjoy herĀ fish and walked around the marsh to check on the other residents. The Mayor, the older Great Blue Heron,Ā was standing guard right below the osprey nest. It seems to be his new favorite spot.
And the Reddish Egret was hunting nearby, his long red hair flowing with his movements.
I noticed the Mourning Doves had returned. Several of them were foraging in the grass and flying around in the trees.
And the ducks were back too. A family of three Mottled Ducks was enjoying a pool of water next to the rest area in the park. They usually nest at the salt marsh and I was delighted to see them.
I am hoping to spotĀ new littleĀ ducklings in June, like I did last year.
I continued my walk and saw another permanent resident, the Little Blue Heron. He wasĀ looking for something to eat in the grass, and was not shy when I approached. We have no trust issues. As far as he’s concerned, media is all good.
Another old friend was present too.Ā The Tri-colored HeronĀ was busy doing bird yoga. And showing off her beautiful colors. I took that as a hint. It’s high time for me to start improvingĀ my flexibility š
Walking back towards the osprey nest, I spotted Sandy returning from her perch – via a shortĀ exercise round. She had finished eating and probably knew that opportunities for after-lunchĀ exercise would be limitedĀ in the weeks andĀ months to come.
When I arrived back to the nest, Stanley was working on rearranging the soft materials around the nest cup.Ā Papa putting the last touches on the nursery. Something was definitely in the making.
When I left them, the parents-to-beĀ were perching side by side in the nest. A handsome couple, I thought.
I walked home on the bay side and spotted this Anhinga drying her feathers in the sun.
Then, looking out towards the nest fromĀ our terrace this morning, I saw something was different. Eggs had been laid last night. Sandy was incubating. Hatchlings expected in 35 to 40 days. Yay!
You can see the design of the nest is centered on the nursery in the middle of the open floor plan. I hope you’ll also notice the soothing, earth-toned color scheme and the subtle decorations. All natural materials apart from the small piece of blueĀ nylon rope, hardly visibleĀ next to the edge.Ā It hasĀ followed the family from their old home into the new. Sandy’s favorite color.
In the next few months, you will see more of these ‘soft’ pictures, whenĀ I’llĀ zoom into the nest fromĀ a block away.Ā It is the only wayĀ we can follow what’s happening in the nursery.
An Anhinga, who was resting downĀ by the water almostĀ right belowĀ him, joined the choir. She’s baaack!
All eyes were on me. Well, almost. Even the Mayor interrupted his hunt, walked closer, nailed his eyes on me and gave me a nod.
The young Mourning Dove checked on me too from her high vantage point. Approvingly, I thought.
Miss Rosa was still sleeping in her ‘bedroom’, Ā heavily curtailed by leafy greens. She opened her eyes. I’m afraid my approach had woken her up.
The Reddish Egret, whoĀ had beenĀ fishing in the shallows nearby, performed his signature dance. Shake, Baby, Shake. What a royal reception!
Even two of the ducklings, who had left the salt marsh merelyĀ four months ago marchingĀ behind their Mama, came to say hi. They had grown a lot. AndĀ they hadĀ started in diving school. I saw a few more siblings further away.
But not all residents joined the welcome party. The young Great Blue Heron didn’t really care to see me back. We have some history, as some of you will remember. I noticed he might have been in a fight as he had a flap of skin hanging under his chin. I wished him speedy recovery.
And the Yellow-crowned Night Heron didn’t pay any attention to me either. But I didn’t take it personally. He might have been hunting all night and was now looking for some peace and quiet.
His cousin, the Black-crowned Night Heron, was present too and peeked out from theĀ tall grass. He was simply shy. And soon he flew up into a tree to sleep for the day.
I walked to the beach-end of the marsh and found two Great Egrets hunting together. Beautiful.
And a little Snowy Egret whoĀ was fishing alone. She soon decided to move onto the bay side and took off while I was watching her.
I was delighted to see so many feathered friends on my first walk! ButĀ where were the Ospreys? TheĀ nest was empty – and in great need of repair. Unfortunately the ground is too soft right now to allow a big vehicle to come close to the nest. That will have to wait for a bit longer.
I walked around the marsh. Then sat on ‘my’ bench to drink some water. It was hot already. I waited. A squirrel in the tree above came down to check me out.
I noticed the Anhinga was still there, now drying her wings in the light breeze. And letting her latest catch, the drama of which I had obviously missed, Ā go down smoothly.
Suddenly I heard friendly osprey speak in the sky. Mama Sandy was flying above the marsh with Papa Stanley. Yes! Both of them were around and seemed to be doing fine.
I discovered there was a third Osprey flying with them too. One with slightly orange-colored eyes and white tips on the flying feathers. A juvenile.
I looked at all the pictures I snapped of this young Osprey, and while I can’t be absolutely sure, I think it might have been Lady Cawcaw! She was discussing something with her papa. Maybe getting tips on good fishing spots. That’s when Papa Stanley’s gift arrived. A beautiful flight feather came dangling downĀ and landed onĀ the grass just a few feet from where I was standing.Ā I picked it up. And now have this 14 inches longĀ ‘treasure’ in a small vase in my office, his molting gift.
While I was watching the Ospreys, Miss Rosa had decided it was time for breakfast. She had come outĀ from her hideout and was looking for food.
And the Reddish Egret had recovered from our first meeting and was hunting again with great determination.
I was delighted by the reception orchestrated by the salt marsh residents. So many of them were present on that beautiful morning last Saturday.
It may take a few days before we see such aĀ glorious sunrise again as we are currently bracing for the impactsĀ from a high grade tropical storm, hopefully not a hurricane, expected to brush our area tomorrow night and Thursday. I am hoping all our feathered friends will find shelter to keep them safe. Greetings from all of us.
The sun was about to dive into the ocean when weĀ reached the Osprey nest. The chick was eating a big fish! Where did that come from?
The mystery was soon solved. Papa Stanley, still wet from his dive, Ā was perching on a lamp-post at the sailing center watching the chick. Just like he often did last year. ProudĀ papa developingĀ his parenting strategy. I’m sure he wantsĀ to make sure that the chick, to be named on Wednesday, will be ready for independence in the next few weeksĀ weeks.
Late this morning, the thermometer read F92/C33 and the humidity was high. But I went out for a short walk toĀ find out what was going on with the Osprey chick. You see, we’reĀ underĀ a tropical storm warning for tomorrow and Tuesday. And it will be impossible to go out. Although it’s unlikely thatĀ Colin will make landfall right here in the Tampa Bay area, all the rain will be on the east side of the center. Right over us. And we will certainly see tropical storm force winds too.
Approaching the salt marsh, I found the chick in the nest. It was almost 11 a.m. and she was asking for her brunch. None was forthcoming. You see, by no longer bringing in fish as frequently as they used to, Osprey parents want their chicks to get interested in an going to fishing school. And that’s what’s going on here too.
After a while,Ā the chickĀ flew out to check on her parents. And I walked around the marsh. I could hear many birds, but didn’t see them. They were all hiding from the heat in the bushes. Apart from the White Ibis. About eight of them were foraging in the grass.
When I reached the nest again, I found the chick had not returned. I decided to go home. Right after crossing the street from the park to the bay side, I found Mama Sandy on a lamp-post next to the Sailing Center. She was wet from a cooling bath, andĀ was lookingĀ towards the nest. Keeping an eye on the chick.
That’s when IĀ noticed the chick had returned – after flying around for aboutĀ 20 minutes. I returned to see if she had a fish. She didn’t. Instead sheĀ continued to ask for her food. And checked on me too.
I waited with her. There was no delivery. I was feeling the heat and decided to walk home. While on the sidewalk, close to my home, I heard Osprey speak.
I raised my camera and zoomed out. I realized Papa Stanley was circling above the nest. He was asking the chick to come along for a fishing trip. The chick responded, but didn’t fly to her papa. So Stanley turned around and flew solo towards the ocean.
I had to get inside to the comfort of our A/C.Ā Phew. Shortly afterwards itĀ got windy, the sky darkenedĀ and it started raining. With my binoculars I could see the chick perching upright in the nest.
At about 3 p.m. when there was a break in the rain, I looked outside and saw that Papa Stanley had finally brought a fish. He was perching at the edge of the nest and the chick was eating. I’m sureĀ they had a chat about the necessityĀ of fishing lessonsĀ sooner than later.
TINY LESSONS BLOG 