Oh, The Things We Learn

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 justyesterday, we were shocked to discover that someone had spilled white paint allover everything.  The railings,furniture, flooring, plants.  Nothing wasleft “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 ourhouse.  And with a clear gravitational dropto our porch.  He knows what to do, howto 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 endof 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 adown-payment on the nest?  He’s abeautiful specimen.  Admirable in flightor in repose.  A magnificent bird ofprey. 

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.”