Juvenile Osprey expels a stream of fishy guano

 

A juvenile Osprey strikes a pose. A pose that can mean only one thing: an impending fecal effluvium. I've got nothing at all against kayakers but couldn't help thinking how cool it'd have been if one had boated up to this fish hawk to ooh and ahh over the cute baby. Then, with no warning, the bird blasted that rope of fishy liquefied guano onto the unsuspecting admirer below. How quick the coos of adulation would change to screeches of horror and disgust! But what photo ops that would have made! Delaware County, July 31, 2024.

Osprey seizes fish, Black Terns watch

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

An Osprey labors skyward, having just caught a Common Carp. The fish looks shocked as it should be. "Fish Hawk" attacks come without warning. One minute you're plying your trade in the isolation chamber calmness of the underwater world, then suddenly, Crash and Splash! Out of nowhere a giant raptor's talon break the surface, seize you, and next thing you know, you're high aloft and heading for a nest of baby Ospreys. Fate: avian sushi.

Shauna and I attended the amazing Allegany Nature Pilgrimage in southwestern New York, as I gave the keynote last Friday night. Moths, of course, loosely based on Chelsea Gottfried's and my new book, Gardening for Moths, which is equal parts, at least, moth natural history. This was the 66th year for the pilgrimage and it is still going strong with about 700 attendees this year.

After that, we spent a few days based in Rochester, New York, exploring Montezuma and Iroquois National Wildlife Refuges - this Osprey image was created at Montezuma - and a few other nearby sites.

A Black Tern wheels over a marsh at Montezuma NWR. As many as 12 were present simultaneously, and this marsh also hosted up to five Osprey at once. Needless to say, birds in flight opportunities were frequent. I was especially pleased to see the terns. The Black Tern has become much scarcer in many areas, including my home state of Ohio. The reasons are several, probably, not the least of which are loss of marshes. But there's undoubtedly more to the picture. Black Terns take lots of insects, in addition to small fish. Insects are spawned by native plants, generally, and native plant diversity has certainly crashed in heavily managed, diked, marshes controlled by wildlife agencies. Invasive plants thrive in such environments and both Montezuma and Iroquois had lots of Giant Reed (Phragmites australis), Reed Canary Grass (Phalaris arundinacea), Flowering Rush (Butomus umbellatus) and others. Carp also thrives in such environments, and they are hard on wetland ecology. We can at least thank the Osprey for removing some of them.

It was interesting to watch the terns hunting damselflies from floating algal mats and other aquatic vegetation. Damselflies are tiny dragonflies and to spot them, dive, and deftly pluck them from the plants is a feat indeed.

Hopefully I'll get around to posting some more of the interesting observations that we made on this trip.

House Sparrows nest in Osprey nest!

An Osprey wheels protectively over its nest, while the female is on the nest, incubating a clutch of eggs.

While on a whirlwind birding tour of central Ohio on April 16, Bernie Master and I stopped by Scioto Audubon Metro Park just south of downtown Columbus. We spent a few minutes admiring the Ospreys, which are nesting atop a light pole, just as conspicuous as could be. While making photos of the birds, I noticed something odd and unusual - House Sparrows were apparently nesting within the Osprey nest!

I resolved to return when time was more plentiful and document this excellent case of commensalism (relationship between two organisms, where one benefits and the other is unaffected). That day was last Saturday, in the perfect light of late afternoon.

An Osprey glares around from atop its aerie. The birds are quite protective. At one point, a Red-tailed Hawk flew past, and both birds rose to warn it off. But they are quite unconcerned with people. This is a high-use park and many people are everywhere, often quite near the nest. It doesn't seem to bother the "fish hawks".

If you are looking for a great place to practice in-flight photography on an easy, relatively slow moving subject, this is your chance. Plus, Ospreys are just cool to watch.

These European Starlings invoked a stern rebuke from the incubating Osprey. I saw this happen several times. A small flock of starlings would sail in towards the nest, no doubt thinking it a good roosting spot. As they dropped in, they'd spot the Osprey at the last instant, which would scold them with piping whistles and send the invaders packing.

Icy stares and stern rebukes have done nothing to dissuade plucky House Sparrows from thoroughly taking advantage of this Osprey nest. A male sparrow perches atop one of the lights, no doubt pleased with his cleverness and utterly unconcerned by the massive bird of prey glaring at him from a few feet away (look carefully at top right of nest).

The male sparrow brings in a load of dried vegetation to add to the nest. His mate can be seen to the right, hiding amongst the sticks. This is the entrance portal, on the west side of the Osprey nest. The sparrows would disappear completely into the bulky stick nest, and I suspect their nest is deep within the structure, likely only inches below the floor where the Osprey's eggs - and chicks to be - are located. While the Ospreys are totally aware of these interlopers, and probably less than pleased about the unwanted arrangement, there's nothing that they can do about it.

The female House Sparrow darts from the nest, having been spelled by the male. Judging from their behavior, I'd say the sparrows are incubating eggs, just like their much larger hosts. Say what you will about House Sparrows, but they are good parents. Males take on much of the nesting duties, including nest construction, incubation of eggs, and feeding of chicks.

While House Sparrows have been recorded nesting within large raptor stick nests before - even Bald Eagles! - it is still cool to see firsthand. And thoroughly document with photos.
 

Several times, a female Brown-headed Cowbird (or likely the same one) perched for an extended period in a small tree very near the Osprey nest. I have little doubt that she was keeping tabs on the House Sparrow activity. Cowbirds, as you likely know, are nest parasites - the female lays an egg in a host species' nest, leaving the unwitting parents to feed and raise the cowbird chick. Cowbirds are known to parasitize House Sparrow nests, too.

I really was wishing that she'd gotten her opening and darted up and into the sparrow nest. I'd have loved to have made photos of that! But House Sparrows are quite protective of their nests and the cowbird never got an opening, at least while I was there.

Osprey entourage

Ospreys abound in South Texas, where I recently spent some quality birding time. It's no great shakes to glance over and see one sitting on a snag or a bouy, doing what Osprey do - catch fish, or think about catching fish. They are quite adept at angling, much better than many humanoid fisher-people.

While at Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge, I noticed the bird above winging by closely, bullhead firmly snared in its talons. As an aside, note how the fish is held head into the wind. Osprey always hold their prey that way when airborn; better aerodynamics, you know.

Anyway, my camera was handy, so I grabbed a shot of the fish hawk with its piscine prey.

The Osprey didn''t go far before alighting on a box, like a king with its scaly subject. And lo and behold, it was attended by some subjects. These feathered serfs were undoubtedly unwelcome, but the beggars made for an entertaining show.

To the left we have two Laughing Gulls in summer finery, heads blackened as if dunked in paint. This is the abundant gull of the area, and they are consumate omnivores, eating whatever comes their way and can't eat them first.

Skulking around the Osprey's feet are two Ruddy Turnstones, invading his space in a big way. These odd sandpipers are also amazingly catholic in their dietary preferences for a shorebird, and opportunistically grab nearly any edible bit. There is a gruesome photo that I have heard about, featuring a mob of turnstones busily clambering over a body that washed ashore somewhere, pecking away like little parti-colored ghouls.

I watched this crew for a while, and wherever the Osprey went, so followed his entourage.



Poor Osprey. He does all the work, and the avian scrounges try to steal his hard-won bounty.