July 17, 2007 This is a baby Osprey after a wild hail storm in Montana. My neighbors, Judy and Jordan, ran out of their house on Flathead Lake and found that the Osprey nest had been blown to the ground from its high perch in an old tree next to the house. They found this baby on the ground, wrapped it in a towel, and Jordan held it until it calmed down. Then they put it in this dog kennel and tried to figure out what to do. Jordan took this photo the next day and sent it to me in CA. NOTE: you can click on any picture to enlarge it. Then use the Back button on the browser to return here.

Mom watching

Nuthatch, for a change of pace.

Not sure I like you

I'm Hungry

and more sticks

Dad landing

You can never have too many sticks.

August 5, still a lot of smoke making a colorful sunrise again.

She has her mom's eyes.

Off she goes--but she'll bring it back.

She grabs dead braches with her talons and snaps them off to bring them here. You can hear the loud cracking sound clearly.

She brings more (and heavy!) nest material.

Mom, who does NOT like me.

Dad

Mom and Dad

Dad has just landed with a stick that nearly knocked Mom off her perch.

A little practice for the coming flight.

Baby gnawing on the plastic "nest."

Mom watchful as always.

All three at the "nest." Not a typical sight!

The young automatically know not to foul the nest. A head-stand maneuver and the deposit is made well out of the way.

August 4th. Forest fires are burning and sending thick smoke over the lake. Flathead Lake, Montana

This is how Mom becomes an umbrella to protect her offspring from the hot midday sun.

Baby calling for dinner. We think she is a she because of her size (almost as big as her Dad) and coloring. Her little chirps are in contrast to her Mom's loud warning cries and very loud instructions to Dad at meal time.

Dad patiently keeping watch high above the dock.

Off she goes.

She is not keen on having her picture taken.

What is that person doing with that very long barrel pointed at me?

Mom. You can tell by the light brown markings on her breast. Dad has an all-white breast.

The eye.

Here is Dad bringing a small fish. He's the smaller of the two parents and the one that does most of the fishing and feeding. Mom fishes too, but she eats the fish herself!

Here is the "nest" close up. Where is the baby? Hunkered down flat in the green box. The minute Mom calls out that there are dangers around, the baby sinks down to an incredible flat pancake.

August 3--We arrive in MT (our house is a few doors down). All the experts said that it would be best to put the baby where the parents could see and hear it in hopes that they would feed and care for it until it could fly south with them at the end of August. They put some of the old nest in the kennel bottom (green plastic) and set it out on the boat dock roof. Judy put another kennel up there as well, hoping the baby would get out of the hot sun (it was in the 90s every day). Soon Mom and Dad came to the rescue. Mom unceremoniously dumped the fish Judy had laid out, and Dad went fishing.

Baby waiting for food, as always.

August 6, not quite as much smoke.

Dad land in a tree with his headless fish. They always eat the head and then knock it off before giving the rest to the baby.

He's brought it to the messy nest, and he is still feeding her mouthful-by-mouthful, even thought she seems quite capable of self-feeding.

Still, and always, hungry.

He flies back and forth to the nest several times--perhaps because I'm watching. I hope not!

August 7, Extremely smokey.

I start to walk next door and both Mom and Dad swoop down on me over and over. I get the message and leave photo-taking for tomorrow.

Mom

She is making sure I turn around and go home.

Caught in mid air!

I'm hungry too, you know.