Ospreys at Jamaica Bay and The M Red-tailed Hawks Guard the Nest

Photograph by Francois Portmann

Francois Portmann goes to Jamaica Bay...



for home improvement time with the Ospreys.

Photograph by Francois Portmann

Photograph by Francois Portmann
A disagreement about turf.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
The Osprey, Pandion haliaetus, the only member of it's family, Pandionidae. They are our only raptor that plunges into the water. Plus they go in feet first.

Photograph by Francois Portmann

Photograph by Francois Portmann

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Back to the nest.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Alert and ready.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Then more work on the nest.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
They both fly but one is ever so much more graceful than the other. Just think we've yet to create a satisfactory mode of flight for a single person, while the birds just--do it.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Instead of staying on the gravel that is the verge of the paved road,which has been my practice previously, I went a few feet onto the grassy slope that in 30 feet or so meets the field in which the nest Oak grows.

Suddenly a hawk appears from the north, the back tree line, and flaps south, towards me and the nest tree and lands on the rim of the nest.
I'd thought the bird on he nest was the female but now I'm not certain.

Though the breast feathers from this angle appear to be smooth which tends toward the newcomer being male but I'm still not positive which is which.

I am always amazed how the color of the feathers changes depending on the light. Here his head appears almost chestnut.

Whereas a turn of head, and he definitely looks like a strawberry blond.

The wind blows the breast feathers back.

The newcomer gives me "the look", then commences an alert methodical scan of the territory. Have you noticed the incubating bird looking with focus between the second bird's belly and the nest?

Back to me.

A look east...

Evidently I've been sufficiently cowed in the Hawks opinion and the male, (I think), is off the nest and heading down the north tree line which follows the railroad tracks.

She watches him go and no doubt knows where he is, while I lost him in a copse of trees.

Then it's back to me, the possible intruder. The field beneath the tree has been turned over in the last few days It was in corn last season, and most probably will be again. I wonder if the fledged eyasses will hop flap around in it. There are some thin twigged bushy growth beneath the nest tree but the stems and twigs don't look thick enough for a bird to get a good grip and climb back into the Oak. But then again--you never know.

Donegal Browne