This little blog is rapidly turning into Life on the Lagoon. There’s a lot going on out there and we appreciate every bit of it from the comfort of our porch.
And so, as we looked out on that little porch just yesterday, we were shocked to discover that someone had spilled white paint all over everything. The railings, furniture, flooring, plants. Nothing was left “unadorned.” Was it a vandal? A repairman in the wrong place? The mister sleepwalking? Paintbrush in hand?
Nope. None of the above. It was a new resident. Just going about his daily behaviors. His regular activities. Tending to business. Doing what comes naturally.
He’s built a room in a nearby pine tree. One hundred and fifty feet above our house. And with a clear gravitational drop to our porch. He knows what to do, how to do it and he does it frequently. So, look out below. Take your hat with you if dare step outside.
Unless, of course, you don’t mind being on the receiving end of the Osprey’s bodily eliminations. Children wouldn’t beat around the bush. They’d call it what it is: Poop. Osprey poop. Which is white. Which we learned about the hard way.
Is the Osprey a permanent resident or a renter? A “snow bird”or a full-timer? Is he just looking or has he made a down-payment on the nest? He’s a beautiful specimen. Admirable in flight or in repose. A magnificent bird of prey.
And, I’m sorry to say, I truly, deeply hope he goes away. I know that sounds like a “not-in-my-backyard” kind of attitude. And, in fact, it is just that. I want to admire him from afar. A far, far way away. I’ll happily ooh and aah as I watch him gracefully and majestically soar off into the great beyond.
With extensive liberties, a person could (sort of) be reminded of Bogie’s famous Casablanca sentiment: “Of all the pine trees in all the towns in all the world, he had to fly into ours.”