It used to be the return of the robin that signified spring to me, but now it’s the return of the osprey.
For a number of years, perhaps 20 or more, I have had phone calls or emails informing me of the return date of the osprey to the many accumulated nesting platforms. It is a fun thing for me to casually monitor the return of the birds. Most of the returns have been reported within a time space of less than 10 days.
Many of the reports are, more often than not, updated again and again until the young leave the nest to fly. This is relatively easy to do, as the nests are usually high up on a tower or hydro pole. The sites are selected by the birds and don’t usually infringe on another bird’s territory. The closeness of food source, fish, usually dictates this.
Bird watching, reported to be the fastest-growing hobby in the world, is really nothing more, and little less, than a sophisticated form of voyeurism. Just to make sure you’re not breaking the laws made by man, make sure you are looking out the window, not in. Also, keep in mind that if you can see them, they can certainly see you. Their eyesight is much keener than yours or mine. This was a comical comment made by a friend to one of my osprey reporters.
I first became aware of this particular osprey platform, which is situated about a stone’s throw from a side road, a little way west of Rockwood. The caller inquired as to what kind of fish they would be feeding their young; in the sunlight they appear bright gold. I assured them that the osprey were probably eating a goldfish that was no longer wanted, which had been dumped into the river or was snatched from someone’s garden pond.
This nest was originally on a high aerial tower situated on the business next door. But protecting their young created a problem when climbers needed to make repairs. Few people know that owners of towers are mandated to put up a substitute platform if the nest is to be removed. This was done in close proximity at a guesstimate cost of greater than $40,000 – and it was a success.
This past week I was verbally updated on this particular platform as we, he, I, and his wife, munched a pleasantly slow lunch at a local eatery. But it is difficult to talk, contrary to our upbringing, as we did with our mouths full. Apparently, the daddy bird had lost its mate and was having a difficult time deciding which one he could, should or would select. If the shoe fits, wear it, sounds a little like the modern-day human attitude to me, don’t you think?
Being late with lunch, I was only able to give them what we refer to as the 29-cent tour of Westwind Farms. As expected, he complained, saying having driven this far he fully expected the 30-cent tour. I was quick to assure him that it would be reason enough for him and his wife to come back.
I neglected to tell them that the 30-cent tour included skinny-dipping in our pond. Why else would it be so placed out of sight from the road and all buildings? I also neglected to mention that the resident snapping turtle, whose religion I’m not certain of, lives within its depth, is quite large, and has a bite representative of a seamstress’ pinking shears.
My Little Lady used to have a sharp knife so shaped. She used it to cut up her homemade cucumber pickles, referring to them as her “frilly dillies.” That might make Walter have second thoughts, but then again, who am I to judge?
Take care, ’cause we care.
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-986-4105