You can see the osprey nest from our deck. Have you ever seen a baby osprey? Come and look through the telescope. You’ll see the chick. He’s so ugly, he’s cute. He has a scrawny neck. Can you can see him? It’s that tiny head peaking up over the edge of all that nesting wood.
Here comes Elvis. That’s what we call the male bird. He catches fish every day to feed the chick. It’s really quite remarkable how delicately he feeds his young.
No, there is no shade up in that nest. Allie, that’s the name we gave the female bird, often stands over the chick shielding him from the sun’s hot rays. Global warming is real, and even the osprey have to live with it. Triple digits happen almost every year. So, even though it’s a triple digit week, it’s really nothing to worry about it.
Can you seen the hatchling? “Not yet”, came the swift reply.
I can see Elvis without the telescope. He has a solid white breast while Allie has a collar of brown. They are beautiful birds. Now, look! You can see them there, standing still as sentinels on the edge of the nest.
Elvis has a fish! Do you see it? He’ll shred it and feed it to his hatchling. But what’s this? Where’s Elvis going? You can’t leave, Elvis! It’s feeding time, and the chick needs you.
I can’t believe he’d go off like that. At least, he left the fish behind. Allie can feed the chick. But, what’s this? Allie has leapt off the nest. Now, she’s leaving too!
What could it mean? Can you see anything in the telescope? Do you see the chick?
“No,” came the reply. “The nest is empty. There is no life. Nothing.”