Silly Great Blue Heron

I got out to FP Tuesday, February 26, for a couple of hours, hoping to see more Ospreys. And I sure did. Not so many nests to watch yet. A few are just beginning to rebuild. But I heard a lot of screeches and calls that were distinctly Ospreys.

And most exciting on that score is the possible re-appearance of Big Mama!


I didn’t get close enough for a positive ID. But this bird was sitting in the pine I call the Dining Room, because it’s where Big Mama and her mate, and eventually their kids, go to eat most of the time. It’s just a stone’s throw from the nest.

But she was having none of my shenanigans Tuesday and flew off into the distant pines to get away from me. So I left her alone.

Meanwhile, as I was wandering around the picnic shelter at Battery Worth I spotted what appeared to be a brown streak – racing on a flat path through the trees and brush only 5 or 10 feet off the ground. As I swung the camera around to see what I could catch, this beautiful little Cooper’s Hawk landed briefly on top of a snag.


First one of those I’ve seen out there. And he/she didn’t stay but a second. But there he/she was. Cool!

Seemed like a short hike to Turtle Bridge was in order, so that’s where I went next. And, as always, I was not disappointed. The GBH egg is still sitting down there in the brush, and a couple of turtles were paddling about. But what was the most fun was this guy.


A juvenile GBH, all alone, and just having one hell of a time. First he was dipping down under the water, almost completely submerged. He’d do that a couple of times. Then he’d climb up on the top of the little island to shake.


After he’d done that a couple of times he decided that he needed some practice in stick gathering. Maybe because he’d recently been watching the grownups who were busy picking up lots of sticks, and rebuilding their nests  in preparation for this year’s crop of new kids.


I’m not sure he ever found just the right stick, but he tried several as I watched.


What I found most unusual about this little guy is that the same bird (I’m almost certain) was in this same place when I had been here a few days earlier. And the little island of sticks and mud isn’t really very far from the bridge. He seems completely relaxed with people coming and going across the bridge. And with fools like me who’ll stop for half an hour and point a huge black machine at him.

I hope he’ll be there the next time I visit (maybe tomorrow). I’d like to get to know him better.



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