The final, perhaps tragic, chapter of this summer story continues to unfold. Here you see June. As you know, she’s the last and smallest of Ozzie and Harriet’s fledglings. She’s being soaked by yesterday’s heavy rain, alone on the open family nest while other ospreys are sheltering within the protective branches of big conifers.
As usual, June regularly begged for food yesterday. Ozzie didn’t come during the 30 minutes that I was watching, but he likely delivered lunch soon thereafter. He has done so routinely this year.
I don’t think that Ozzie and June’s two siblings, David and Ricky, have migrated yet. We keep seeing three ospreys fishing over Great Cove, not far from the nest. I believe that those birds are Ozzie showing David and Ricky how to plunge-dive for fish. My last such sighting was Saturday, September 3.
Harriet apparently has migrated south already, which is usual for a female osprey parent – they usually depart and leave the male parent to take over the feeding and education of the young until migration lift off time.
June is large, full-feathered, and can fly well, but she seems to be mentally retarded. If she can’t fish, she’ll likely starve; Ozzie probably will not cancel his migration flight to feed her indefinitely.
An attempt at capturing June for an intervention would seem to be very difficult due to the 90-foot height of the nest and her shyness; she flies away at the sight of any human or dog within 400 feet. I park my car beyond that point and “shoot” through the window. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 5, 2022.)