We had taken a run to The Office in the late afternoon. Mostly just to check on the progress of Kitty and Kalev-the Brave.
And as the evening sunshine warmed us against the chill of the wind, down the river flat, in the crisp golden light a steady wing beat carried at quite breathtaking speed, an Osprey. Actually by now I suppose it should be “the Osprey”.
The weather has kept us at home. Grey skies are one thing, but cold, damp, wind-driven rain is a force to be reckoned with. And inspite of Drizabone, there still has to be enough light bring some decent exposure rates.
So. Home it is.
I was under the pergola, working with the Nikon 1 focusing variations, and noted our local female Blackbird going over the fence with a beakful of building material. She stopped long enough on one trip that I managed to get a reasonable shot of her at work. “So,” thought I, “She must have a nest going in somewhere nextdoor.”
About an hour later, however I saw a Blackbird with head up and lots of wing flapping, and I reached for the camera, thinking it was probably a juvenile that was begging for food.
We have had some rain. 70mm in 3 days, the gauge says.
And, this morning, I set out for my weekly Tia Chi class. Start of a new semester, so I was pretty excited about getting back to class. And at 8:00am, as I was getting ready, the rain, was, well, sheeting down. So any ideas of spending a few hours with the birds at The Office, were not even a glimmer of hope. But a we settled into such routines as “Waving hands like Clouds”, “White Crane Cools Wings”, and “Monkey offers a Peach”, it was possible to glimpse a shaft of brilliant sunshine making an appearance through the clouds. By the time we paused for a break, it was definitely bright sunshine warming me though the window, and stirring the possibilities of a chance to venture out in the early afternoon.
EE soon agreed and we headed out right after lunch. To my despair, the road into The Office, was waterlogged. And we picked our way along through the water, and the puddles and the inevitable mud pools. On arrival at the carpark, Kitty and Kalev were nowhere to be seen, and despite looking for a while, we still were Kiteless. So we wandered down to the river area.
Which as it turns was a great move.
Toward the end of last year, a pair of Black-shouldered Kites— we named them Kitty and Kalev-the Brave— set up and successfully fledged three young.
Well, they are back! Or so it seems. Of course they could be completely different birds, but given their relaxed and settled manner, and the way they interact, I’d be pretty certain that we are looking at Kitty and Kalev-the Brave.