The Ospreys have a nest on top of pole. Over the last two months, I have been watching them add seaweed and sticks to improve their home. One bird, I am guessing the female, spends a lot of time on the nest while the other perches on a nearby pole or goes for long flights out over the bay.
The are both extremely good at catching fish. They fly high over the water and then on catching sight of a fish will hover, drop down, hover and then drop in a perfect dive to hit the water with a thunderous splash, talons outstretched to grasp the oblivious prey. A struggle ensues and the bird will sometimes go right under for several seconds before emerging to fight its way upwards and out into the sky.
At this point the strength and magnificence of the Osprey's wings are on full display as they carry the bird and its heavy, struggling fish back to the nest. Interestingly, they don't seem to share. The owner of the unfortunate fish sits on the pole or branch tearing it apart while the other watches closely but keeps its distance.
I found a beautiful poem on the internet which captures the Osprey's hunt perfectly. The poem was written by Steve Hagget and is printed below, it is well worth a read!
The Osprey
In foreign land of towering pines
And hammocks, mangrove-torn
A dark-filled night reluctantly
Bequeaths a pale dawn
Upon one battered cypress perched,
Amidst the morning haze,
Bright eyes stare out from part-cocked head
With piscicultural gaze.
Intently focussed on the brook,
That glides beneath the tree
Alive to every shadow’s sound
Yet never truly free.
For choicelessly these eyes are drawn,
As waters break below
And like a flash a head snaps back
And rippled muscles flow.
Within the slightest moment’s breath,
Two mighty wings released,
Two claws full-stretched, two legs reach out
The sinews, strained, unleashed.
The beaten air the only sound,
As time itself stands still
And, tracer-like, on charted course
The osprey meets its kill.
With consummate and practiced ease
The painless end begins
The single deadly blow is dealt
As sharpened claws sink in.
Then up away into the dawn
And time resumes its course
Two final beats – then disappeared
Is this magnetic force.
The cypress perch and well-filled brook
As silent witness stay
And as they settle – calm again
The sun declares the day.
-Steve Hagget
