All along the New England coast,
ospreys are icons of summer.
They are specialists...
known as the finest fisherman
among all birds of prey.
They signal the change
from long, dark winters
to long, sunny days.
But ospreys are not here
on vacation.
They've come to take up
their greatest challenge...
to compete with each other
in tight places...
to fend off thieves...
and predators...
and to raise tiny,
helpless chicks...
into daring aerial acrobats.
For an osprey,
summer is no day at the beach.
It's an annual call to battle...
and the toughest test
of everything they are.
What inspires a bird
to leave his home
in the tropics,
where the weather is warm
and the fishing is easy?
Much of the answer
remains a mystery,
but it comes from a need
deep within him.
The hero of our story
is an osprey...
A bird of prey...
and he's on his way north...
answering that inner call.
From somewhere along the coast
of South America,
he's set his course
for one specific shoreline,
some 4,000 miles away.
Our osprey, it turns out,
is a New Englander at heart...
and he's heading home.
Weighing just three pounds,
he travels light and fast...
and all alone.
He flies up the East Coast
of the United States...
heading straight into
his toughest time of the year.
Four weeks into his journey,
he leaves New York City behind
and turns northeast along
the shore of Long Island Sound.
Spread out below him is
an osprey's moveable feast...
a watery maze left by glaciers
many eons ago.
This is the delta of
the Connecticut River.
Dredged and farmed
for centuries,
it's now hemmed in on both sides
by houses and humans.
Yet it remains a wild place...
still governed by the tides
and the seasons...
and it's here that
the osprey was born.
It's late March...
and he's back
in his home waters...
where he first tasted fish...
where he first learned to fly.
His focus turns immediately
to the most important piece
of real estate in the marsh.
It's an old piling standing
just off an abandoned island.
This was his true destination
all along.
It's just a ramshackle
pile of sticks,
but this is his nest,
and he's come home early
to reclaim it.
After a long winter,
it's a wonder it's still here.
Yet before he can even
start on repairs,
there's a crisis...
Eagles!
This is trouble.
Bald eagles are bigger,
stronger than our osprey...
they're known to attack
osprey nests,
taking eggs, even chicks.
They may also be looking to
build a nest of their own...
In his marsh!
The eagles appear to be
a young couple,
and not very experienced...
and the male takes the bait.
The osprey is battle tested...
and launches his attack
from above.
Though he's much smaller,
he's more agile in the air.
Even an eagle respects the power
of an osprey's lethal talons.
For the young eagles,
it's easier...
and safer... to simply move on.
And so begins another
New England summer...
a season of one challenge
after another...
and the best way to start
is with a good breakfast.
Fish are his only prey...
and fishing is what
an osprey does best.
His long, narrow wings,
up to six feet across,
enable him to actually hover...
Like a giant kingfisher...
while his keen, bright yellow
eyes penetrate the waters below.
But it's the dive...
Wings drawn in,
eyes lined up behind
wide-open talons...
that brings all his strengths
together in one pure motion.
No other raptor can
totally submerge like this.
His feet and talons
are custom made
for grasping a slippery fish.
Even his dense, oily feathers
are specially designed
to shed water...
with a mid-flight,
shaggy-dog shake.
Our osprey is not the only one
concerned about his home
in the marsh.
Year-round residents rely on
this patch of wild country, too.
A woodchuck is
out of his burrow,
planning his next move.
Woodchucks hibernate
through the winter.
The mound he has created sits at
the entrance of his winter den.
Now, he's ready
to shift up-country
to a summer burrow
he also maintains.
Out in the tall grass,
a fox takes notice.
She's a capable predator
of woodchucks,
but at the moment,
she's more interested
in his plans to leave.
A woodchuck burrow is
a masterwork of home security
and protection
from the elements.
The fox is getting ready
to have a family.
She needs this den and is quick
to claim it for herself.
It's morning in the marsh,
and one by one,
ospreys are arriving
from far-flung places.
Many have spent the winter along
rivers in the vast Amazon Basin.
Now, they converge in the delta
of the Connecticut River,
more than 150 ospreys
in just 15 square miles.
Osprey nest platforms
dot the marsh.
They're additional nest sites
built to help the birds
recover from the toxic
devastations of DDT.
For the savvy resident gulls,
all these summer raptors
are rivals...
and potential marks.
The largest,
the Great Black-backed gull,
has been king of the beach
all winter.
He's used to getting his way.
He sees an osprey with a fish...
And he wants it.
But now, it's beak
against talon...
...and the better weapon wins.
Our male has been waiting
for one special osprey
to come home to the marsh.
And right on time, she arrives.
She's the partner
he's counting on
to make the summer a success.
This will be
their 10th season together.
But their long fidelity is not
exactly to each other;
it's the nest they return to
each year...
the nest they build
and defend together.
But first, they must
get reacquainted.
Nothing is taken for granted.
He greets her with
the perfect gift...
an impressive stick
for the nest.
Next, he offers her
a fresh fish.
He's both a builder
and a provider.
Soon, they are working
on the nest together,
stick by stick.
As the structure grows stronger,
so does their bond.
They take their courtship
to the air,
flying in unison.
They have become a team again,
a perfect pair.
Tiny tree swallows are courting
and building nests, too.
They prefer natural cavities
in standing dead trees.
But such nest sites
are hard to find.
So there's considerable
excitement
over this prime,
old woodpecker hole.
Hopeful house hunters
are eager to see inside.
But, of course,
it's already occupied.
The best places always are.
The ospreys are having
a housing crisis of their own.
They want to nest up high,
but even with all the platforms,
there are not enough sites
for the birds that have
come to breed.
Young, less experienced ones
lose out.
Their only way to get
a good nest site
is to steal one.
A young osprey
with ramped up hormones
launches a direct attack
on our pair.
It's a rash move with
little chance of success.
The pair is strong,
and they know their jobs.
He heads up to provide air cover
over the nest.
She hunkers down
to protect their property.
Young birds keep coming,
but they can find no opening
in the pair's defenses.
Young challengers aren't likely
to overwhelm ospreys
in their prime.
They're reduced to nesting
attempts out on the marsh flats.
A nest out here is open to
predators from every direction.
It's always in danger
of flooding.
Yet they decide any nest is
better than no nest at all.
So they build...
and mate...
and take their chances.
Back at the island nest,
the structure is now
fit for service.
The male launches into
his most impressive display.
Climbing hundreds of feet
in the air,
and carrying a fish
for maximum effect,
he starts the show.
He performs dramatic loops
in the air...
where every other osprey
can see him.
It's called a "sky-dance."
Accompanied by a distinctive,
high-pitched call,
it's a show of stamina,
of bravado.
Far below, his mate calls back.
Perhaps it's an encouragement...
for when he returns, they mate.
He turns his talons inward
before carefully resting them
on her back.
His touch is remarkably tender.
They will mate many times
over the next two weeks.
Then she will lay a clutch
of beautiful brown eggs
into the soft center
of the nest.
The marsh has seen many changes
in its long, ice-age history.
Yet washed by tides
and nourished by the river,
it remains so fertile,
it still feeds multitudes
when they need it most.
It's early May,
and a flock of dunlin
has arrived.
They are joined by sandpipers
and plovers...
whimbrels and yellowlegs...
all finding rich pickings
in the mudflats.
Hundreds of thousands
of shorebirds
are stopping at
essential marshes like this
on their way north.
They're going to the high Arctic
to breed...
if they can stock up on
enough fuel to survive the trip.
At the nest, a raucous set of
house sparrows has moved in
and is busy making
nests of their own
inside the ospreys'
great pile of sticks.
The quiet single-family home
has turned into
a lively little village.
Magnanimously,
the ospreys don't seem to mind.
The female has been sitting
for 37 straight days.
Every day, the male has
faithfully brought her fish.
This time, she rises...
to reveal, at last, his reward.
This is what their partnership
has been all about.
We cannot read
their inscrutable faces,
but we can see
how careful they are
to protect their tiny chick
from their talons.
Within moments, a ritual begins
that will play out every day
for the next two months.
Dad brings in a fresh fish,
Mom tears tender pieces of it
and delicately feeds
the hungry new mouth.
But soon, everyone's exhausted
by the whole thing.
The eggs are laid
three days apart
and hatch in the same order.
Now, a second little chick
is also eager to be fed.
Good parenting will help her
catch up with her big sister.
One egg remains.
But the two active chicks
need constant care.
As the female broods the chicks
under her warm feathers,
the last egg
sits out in the cold.
Finally, with his two older
siblings fed and quiet,
the third baby osprey
breaks out of his shell...
and joins the family.
He's so weak and tiny
compared to his two big sisters,
he can't seem to get
any attention.
He can't even manage to get up.
He struggles and struggles...
...while his sisters
eat and eat...
...and then finally,
that little mouth in the back,
the one that needs it the most,
gets its first taste of fish.
His sisters aren't pleased
about sharing.
But his mother seems to know
what she's doing.
Day by day,
all three chicks are growing,
even though
he remains the smallest.
At the fox den,
it's an important night.
Dad sets off to hunt,
and under the cover of darkness,
the tiny kits,
now about five weeks old,
take their first foray
outside the den.
Six roly-poly little foxes
tumble out,
followed by their surely
exhausted mother.
Both parents hunt now,
bringing meal after meal
home to the den.
Some nights,
it's a mouthful of voles,
on another
it's an enormous rabbit!
Including themselves,
they have eight foxes to feed.
The marsh is now
bursting with new life.
Part land, part river,
part salty sea,
it provides such a rich
livelihood to so many families,
it's among the most prolific
nurseries in nature.
In their coveted tree hole,
the tree swallow parents
are coming and going
with insects
for their brood of five.
Two white-tailed does
bring their fawns
out of the forest
to the edge of the shore.
Behind them in the trees,
a red-shouldered hawk
feeds her little chicks.
The fox kits are playing
in the perfect afternoon.
Yet they've already discovered
that not every day
will turn out well.
One is severely injured...
and instead of six,
there are now only five.
Their salt marsh is as rough
and wild a place to grow up
as any wilderness.
The year is swinging
into summer...
The High Season
on Long Island Sound.
The fishing grounds
of the osprey
have become a playground
for beachgoers and boaters...
all enjoying a bright afternoon.
When it's hot,
everyone heads for the water.
Even a deer enjoys a swim...
and paddles out for a summer
retreat on the osprey's island.
Our pair has new neighbors.
A dead tree some 30 yards
behind the pilings
is now hosting the beginnings
of a new nest.
They must be young builders.
It's late in the season
to start such a thing...
And our pair
takes no notice of them.
In their nest, the three chicks
have been eating, sleeping,
and growing stronger.
Their mom is still
painstakingly feeding each one,
but the little male
is still much smaller
than his two big sisters.
But he's been gaining
a lot of attitude
along with a little weight.
He doesn't win many tussles
with his bigger siblings,
but he's putting up a fight.
Their mother, who has been
devotedly keeping them warm,
now has to worry about
keeping them cool.
But they are on their way to
solving that for themselves.
Their feathers are coming in...
one of nature's best inventions
for moderating temperature.
And their looks
are changing too,
suddenly taking on
the daunting aspect of raptors.
They're well on their way
to becoming
the fierce birds
they're meant to be.
Yet they still patiently take
one offered bite at a time,
more like three
well-behaved children
than mighty predators
in training.
As they grow,
their demand for fish does too.
The female is constantly asking
the male for more food...
but he already knows his job.
He's out fishing, of course.
This is what he came 4,000 miles
to do.
He needs to see a fish
to catch it,
and he has 15 hours of daylight
here at the height
of the season.
That's a big help
with a family of five to feed.
He also provides quite a menu;
he serves up a fluke,
then a winter flounder,
a porgy,
and a menhaden.
The chicks consume them all...
learning the taste of
each different fish...
while their dad takes a moment
to power wash his talons.
Three weeks after hatching,
all three chicks
are growing fast.
The little male
is still the smallest.
He's in that "awkward" stage.
Like his "osprey suit"
is too big for him.
But the fact is,
he will always be smaller
than his sisters.
As in all birds of prey,
females will be up to 30% bigger
than the males.
Perhaps that extra size
helps them get through
the demanding weeks
of sharing their food
with three extra mouths.
Their mother
continues to call...
and the stress on her
is starting to show.
She looks thin... and hungry.
And despite the bounty
of fish in the sound,
his job is getting harder, too.
The population of the marsh
has boomed.
Seagulls and cormorants
have taken over
rocky offshore islands
to raise chicks, too.
The demand for fish
has really ramped up.
It takes an extraordinary effort
for a three-pound bird to lift
a fish out of the water.
But the bigger challenge now
is holding on to it.
Osprey against osprey is
a test of strength in the air.
The bird carrying the fish
is handicapped.
It takes powerful wings indeed
to stay out in front...
especially when the fish itself
is still putting up a fight!
And ospreys aren't the only
pirates in these waters.
Double-crested cormorants
usually dive for their fish.
Now, one has the nerve to pursue
our male straight into the sky.
It's a big mistake.
Upon delivering the catch
to the nest,
the male turns...
to deliver a message
to the cormorant colony.
He begins with a fly-by...
then, he picks a target.
The colony is suddenly
wide awake.
Everyone is instantly aware
of the talons
descending from above.
But now, he's just
trolling them...
just making a point.
He's the top g*n here.
He's the bird of prey.
As the last of the day
fades in the sky,
night steals into the marsh.
Out in the salt meadows,
an osprey sits atop
an impressive stack of sticks.
But nearby, another female
has barely any nest at all.
She must be part of
a very young pair
that hasn't learned
how to build.
Suddenly, she's disturbed.
It's a coyote.
Casually, she takes the only egg
the young osprey managed to lay.
The giant stick nest
fares no better.
Raccoons make a tidy meal
of every egg they find.
In merely a moment,
this nesting season is over.
The osprey returns...
and searches for her eggs...
but all she can do
is pick up the pieces.
There will be no chicks
in her nest this year.
In fact, there'll be no chicks
in any of
the osprey ground nests
anywhere in the marsh.
One by one, they will all
be raided and ruined.
It's one of the hardest lessons
an osprey must learn.
There's a new, restless energy
at the island osprey nest.
The chicks have
full-sized talons now,
but they still don't know
how to use them.
They're almost the size
of their parents,
but their juvenile feathers,
trimmed in creamy white,
and their bright orange eyes
mark them as mere teenagers.
They're always hungry...
and quick to cry about it.
Dad obliges with a fish
and departs.
Now, no parent feeds them.
Their mother simply stands by.
She's fed each one every morsel
they have ever eaten...
Until now.
They no longer need
her constant care in the nest.
It's the beginning of the end
of an osprey family.
Their mother is the first
to leave.
She's given all she has...
and having fulfilled her mission
for this summer,
she slowly heads south
to rest and recuperate.
But their father continues
to bring food to the chicks
for several more weeks.
The young male is quick
to claim the latest fish.
As he grows more aggressive,
arguments break out.
The sisters,
once so far ahead of him,
now wait for him to finish.
The nest is feeling
smaller and smaller...
and he's eager
for a wider world.
Even a torrential downpour
doesn't dampen his mood.
It's exhilarating!
He achieves a brief
but thrilling lift-off...
his very first moment
out of the nest.
In the coming days,
the young male takes to
floating above the nest,
getting a feel for the wind.
He was the last to hatch.
Now, he's the first to fledge...
...and his sisters
seem impressed.
He graduates to short trips...
...mastering take-offs
and landings...
almost.
Inspired, his sisters begin
to stretch their wings.
Soon, all three siblings
are soaring over the marsh.
But the nest is still
a source of security.
They often come home
and settle in for the night.
It's mid-August.
Another osprey summer
on the Connecticut coast
is coming to a close.
The male of the island nest
brings one last fish
to the fledglings
he has nourished all summer.
They may not know it yet,
but their childhood is over.
Their father's work is done.
He's defended his nest
against all comers
and fed his family for months.
He's been fierce and devoted.
He is everything
an osprey needs to be.
Now, the long days of fishing
in the north are over.
Ospreys fly
from summer to summer,
and it's his turn to head for
the sunlight of South America.
The young male is still reveling
in his newfound joy of flying.
He seeks out other fledglings
for mock battles.
It's both play...
and practice.
He'll need to be good at it.
He'll need the skill and courage
of his father.
And all those fish
he probably took for granted
he'll now have to catch
for himself.
Dad made it look so easy.
A rainy day doesn't help at all.
Not even his father could catch
a fish he couldn't see.
But no one teaches an osprey
how to fish.
It just comes to him...
a gift...
from all the generations
of ospreys before him.
It's the end of the season
on Long Island Sound.
Every evening, thousands of
tree swallows fill the skies,
intercepting a feast of insects
on their way to warmer weather.
Before long, the flock grows
to a million strong...
...swirling in syncopation...
...preparing for their migration
to the Gulf of Mexico.
It's the last great celebration
of summer.
The young ospreys linger in the
only place they have ever known.
But temperatures are dropping.
Fish are heading
into deeper water.
The fledglings must
be on their way.
Finally, our young male
takes to the sky.
How he will find good wintering
grounds remains a mystery.
The dangers that lie ahead
for him we can scarcely imagine.
But if fate is kind,
in a few years he'll return...
to compete for a place
in the marsh of his birth.
The birds of summer
have all flown.
For those left behind,
it's time to face
the coming cold.
The marsh bows down to winter.
It, too, gets to rest
and replenish,
preparing for all the wild
travelers that will need it...
...when it's spring again...
and the ospreys come home.
Welcome to our World! Where we serve you cookies to ensure you get the best viewing experience on our site.
Did you know that you can remove censorship board-wide, use our advanced search functions, be notified when new content is posted, join our memberships, set episodes to show in any order you want & more if you are logged into your account?
Register or sign in here: ucp.php?mode=register
Did you know that you can remove censorship board-wide, use our advanced search functions, be notified when new content is posted, join our memberships, set episodes to show in any order you want & more if you are logged into your account?
Register or sign in here: ucp.php?mode=register