fledgling flights

We had guests last weekend and I had the pleasure of showing them the 'maiden' (if that is the acceptable word these days) flights of the two young Ospreys raised in the Pine Neck point nest directly opposite us on the other side of Weesuck Creek. After flexing its wings, one bird jumped out of the nest and fluttered straight down, landing on the sandy shore right under the nest pole where it sat, exhausted, for 15 or 20 minutes before gathering its strength to helicopter straight back up into the the nest. In the meanwhile, the other, slightly bigger bird (a female?), took off on a more successful flight, wending its way -- somewhat uncertainly it must be admitted -- in a big loop just above the treetops and back, barely managing to avoid the canopy and dead tree skeletons along the way. As it approached the nest pole, it seemed to want to land, first on a dead stub, then another and then back on the nest. It seemed that it was trying to organize a landing but didn't know how to accomplish this sophisticated maneuver and each time it had to keep flying. It even fluttered back out and around in a second hair raising loop, always just avoiding what seemed like a certain crash. Finally it managed to settle on a dead stump next to the nest, at least as exhausted as its sibling. No sign of the adults who were presumably off fishing somewhere. After these exciting flights, both birds continued to flex their wings, presumably to strengthen them before trying again.

This morning's news: Two Black-crowned Night Herons, one Yellow-crowned Night Heron, a Great Egret and a Willet in the pond this morning at low tide; everyone spooked on my appearance on the bank except the Yellow-crowned. Eventually it left but, somewhat unfortunately, I didn't see where it went. Clapper Rail still kek-ing away in the marsh although perhaps with a little less enthusiasm than before (longer pauses between bouts of calling). Didn't hear the cuckoo call or re-find yesterday's Dark-eyed Junco but, somewhat surprisingly, Red-eyed Vireo was back, singing his persistent Q&A song in the woodland canopy. A greenish bird with bright wing bars and a pink bill stumped me for a while; of course, it was an adult female American Goldfinch.  

Eric Salzman