Post Script

Just yesterday I wrote about the little osprey chick that we spotted in the nest next to our house..the first In twenty some years.

Late in the afternoon I watched with tender amusement and some concern as the temperatures soared and  Momma O spread her wings to shade the little guy. Surely she knows what to do and osprey have survived a sudden heat wave before, I thought. I saw him sitting like a little prince attended by umbrella holding minions. I wish I had been able to get a photo of that.

This morning I awoke and was shocked to see no bird on the nest.  I tried to hold out some hope as the minutes ticked by and the sadness deepened in my chest. There was a moment of uplift when one bird came back. She tweeted rather mournfully  before leaving less than a hour later. 

 We can only speculate about what happened. Did the heat prove to be too much? Did a predator somehow  get the chick? There was evidence of misplaced nesting material hanging from the bottom of the nest. The male partner, the only one who could provide the fish that both hydrated and fed the two was not in attendance through most of the previous afternoon. My neighbor reported seeing him circling with a fish and screeching, but never landing.

 But we don't know. I am certain that speculation is somehow therapeutic for us humans. We do it a lot. We think that if we can just "know" then it will be okay, that we can keep tragedy at bay.It is consoling to have answers. But it does not change the facts, the feeling of loss.


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