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.

and more sticks

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

Mom and Dad

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

Dad patiently keeping watch high above the dock.

The eye.

August 6, not quite as much smoke.

August 7, Extremely smokey.

I'm hungry too, you know.

Dad lands with a tiny fish in his talons and looks at me warily. I leave so that he can do his job.

Wings are helpful to balance while crossing over.

Stretch and flap . . .

Baby flattens, but has no background to disappear into.

But baby stays flat, just in case.

Mom watching

Dad landing

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

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

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

Off she goes.

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!

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.

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.

Looking very large and healthy!

Mom and dad as seen from my neighbor's deck.

Soon . . .

Now for a stroll around this place.

Dad comes to the rescue

August 11

Nuthatch, for a change of pace.

You can never have too many sticks.

She brings more (and heavy!) nest material.

A little practice for the coming flight.

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

She is not keen on having her picture taken.

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.

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.

Mom

Practicing.

Someday . . .

August 10, a big day, as the baby starts feeding herself (fish left by Dad) and wanders around on the roof of the boat dock. Here is Mom, always on the lookout for trouble (which, unfortunately, seems to include me).

Hmm, pretty clean and flat out here.

Geese! Trying to land near their precious baby.

Not sure I like you

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

Mom, who does NOT like me.

Baby gnawing on the plastic "nest."

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

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

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.

Still, and always, hungry.

She is making sure I turn around and go home.

August 8 I sit so still watching the Osprey that a Chipmunk darts to within 4 feet of me and starts munching what looks like a tiny apple.

August 9 Just practicing again . . . bigger and better feathers daily. We worry, however, that the dock is not high enough for her to get a good start on her first real flight. Will she fall to the dock, fall in the water? Or will she just sail off into the sky?

These big heavy wings must be designed for something. . . .

Nice.

No way! Dad dive bombs them a few times . . .

I'm Hungry

She has her mom's eyes.

Dad

Mom watchful as always.

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.

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

Baby waiting for food, as always.

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

Caught in mid air!

Mom just whistled a loud warning, and baby takes a dive. The mottled pattern makes her look like the other nest sticks from above.

Mom and dad visiting for a while. Mom sometimes does a bit of housekeeping on the nest.

Stretch and flap . . .

And, there's Mom. She sees some danger and calls out her danger signal.

They continue on their way.