Osprey, Pandion Haliaetus

Day 212: It is only appropriate that the subject matter of today's post should be a bird, but because it is Global Big Day and I'm in the midst of my own "backyard bird count," the Lake St. Clair Osprey will have to suffice. Lake St. Clair contains half a dozen or so small islands, the largest of which is probably close to an acre. Regardless of their size, most have a house or cabin on them. Having humans around has not deterred a family of Ospreys from nesting on one of them, for their nest is built at least 100' above lake level. It is a magnificent edifice of sticks, probably big enough for me to curl up in, stuck in the very tip-top of a Doug-fir. It's been there for as long as I've been visiting the lake, and sometimes I've been lucky enough to spot the chicks' heads when mom comes back from hunting with a gorge full of trout. I was not so fortunate this week, but I could hear the mewing of the younglings as the parent made repeated trips to feed them, and when she'd emptied her gullet, she would return to her perch in this ancient pine to survey the water. If a fish strayed too close to the surface, she would stoop on it with a great splash, sometimes missing her prey but for the most part, being successful with the grab. Soon, there will be more Ospreys in flight over Lake St. Clair.

Test Pilots

Day 283: While paddling around Lake St. Clair yesterday, I heard the familiar call of an Osprey from their annual nesting site on a small island. Looking up to the broken crown of a tall Doug-fir, I could see what I initially took for a parent bird sitting on the rim of the massive nest. Occasionally, it would stretch its wings or turn its head, and after watching for several minutes, I decided to move on. Coming around on the other side of the tree, I turned the 'yak toward the nest again and thought I could see a second bird. The first raised its wings several times, and then the second began flapping and fluttering. At that point, I realized that these were two juveniles experimenting with the mechanics of flight. The second bird seemed to rise from the nest slightly as it beat its wings, and then suddenly, it lifted clear of the nest and caught three or four feet of air before settling back into the bowl. It only happened once in the ten minutes I watched them, and I was fortunate to be able to capture photos of the best action.

Osprey, Pandion Haliaetus

Day 283: Although the field guides will frequently describe Ospreys as "uncommon," I see them almost any time I'm out on one of the area's lakes. They are consummate predators upon trout and don't seem to have my discriminating palate when it comes to hatchery-raised fish. That said, they also seem to have extraordinary skill at taking the biggest and best. Many's the time that I've been fiddling with minnows, only to see an Osprey splash down and rise again with a trophy brown held in its talons. Of course, I might have more luck if I rigged with the nine hooks this bird is allowed.