Poets in the Garden
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Fly with the Ospreys

This is a page about  the Whirley Crane Osprey nest in Richmond. CA. Its purpose is to provide information to those who are new to the cam.  It also proffers osprey related poetry, songs and stories. If you have a poem or song or chart you'd like to see on this site, please contact Midi.
All writing and personal photos are the property of the authors and may be shared only for non profitable purposes. Courtesy would dictate letting this site know if you do so. 
All photos captured from the camera are the property of and used by permission from the Golden Gate Audubon Society. They are not to be copied from this site without permission from GGAS. If you enjoy this site, please consider sending a contribution to:
​

www.goldengateaudubon.org ​

Rest in Peace, Molate.                              May 18-July 16, 2022

7/21/2018

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In 2022, three eggs were laid. The first egg never hatched. The other two did and were later named Brooks and Molate. Brooks was dominant and took charge of the nest. Molate was more laid back but was able to fend for itself. Brooks fledged. Molate began hovering but never progressed beyond that stage. He began to show problems with breathing and swallowing. He tried valiantly to eat and was getting nourishment up to the end, but his swallowing was difficult. He breathed rapidly and seemed to be gasping for breath. On July 16  at 13:46 according to chatter Steph, he took a last deep breath then slipped off the side of the nest to the platform below. Rosie immediately went out and brought a large fish which she fed to Brooks. Then she and Richie spent the evening and night on the railing just above Molate's body. 
The authorities decided not to remove the bird's body as it might disturb the other ospreys and cause Brooks to fledge or leave prematurely. Their statement can be seen on the 2022 page chapter 7 (July 2022).
​Molate
 
Fifty-eight days
Hardly enough Molate,
You barely spread your wings
With talons in the air
 
You struggled to breathe
To get fish
From Brooks, your one-day older sib
Only rallying when you were hungry enough
 
You sat on the egg that did not hatch
Like you saw your mother do
And hoped it would help
Bring forth life
 
You brought us joy and sadness
Though you did not know we were there
We weep in your absence
As you lie below
 
And wish you safe flight
Above this flawed mortal world
On the double rainbows of freedom
And the gentle glide of osprey wings
 
© D. Leah Steinberg
7/17/22
​Brooks to Molate
​
​I'm flying, I’m flying,
Way up high
In the sky
Look how high I’m flying.
 
You try now brother
Try to fly
You can do it
If you try.
 
I’m trying, I’m trying,
But my wings
Won’t carry me
And I can’t start flying.
 
I’m tired, I want to rest,
Just lie down
On the nest,
Brother, I think I’m dying.
 
I’m crying, I’m crying,
I’m alone 
On the nest,
I think I’ll go flying.
 
Brother, you’re flying
Way, way up high
Beyond the sky, 
Up through the nebulae.
 
I’m flying, I’m flying
Way up high
In Earth’s blue sky
While you fly  even higher.
 
Beyond Earth’s blue sky
Into space,
To a new galaxy 
You’re flying. 
 
Midi July 2022
To Peter Pan tune

Picture
​Molate

You were the little one, last in the line for food.  
Only the gnawing of hunger could spur you to fierceness.
We watched you with anxious hearts.
How could we help?

Your body lurched with every breath,
beak open, calamity inside your secret darkness.
Our breath became short as we watched you struggle.
Would you get well?  

One day it was all too much.
The wind, that should have been your playfellow,
flung you down,
into the long arms of Morpheus.

We watched.
For a moment our breath stopped too.
The traitor wind toyed with your feathers.
Your face was hid from us.

We wept.
 
-FW. July 2022
 
Memorial to Molate

Valiant life force driving you,
Took shivering breath after breath,
Ate fish bites painful to swallow,
Strained to live despite all.
For you knew you had to...
Until it was too much.

You died instantly,
Falling far below.
Now your body lies
Inert, alone. But--
Your spirit will forever
Remain in our memory.

May your soul now rise
Into far-off skies. 

​midi
PictureFirst feeding. cap by lurker

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Maybe I should try. July 15, 2022
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Where did everyone go? July 15, 2022
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We remember each chick that died, no matter how young. And we think of those who survived and flew off to unknown lands and adventures. We hope to see them some day. 
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Molate's Spirit Nest, made by midi and placed at Pt. Molate Park in Richmond.
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Gone Ahead. Remembering Tam, Peace Up, Whirley, little Gamma and the egg that didn't hatch. picture created by FW
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Rivet (ZR 2017) and Brooks (XA 2022) were left as the only chick for their year. photo created by FW
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Tam (XV)  May 11-July 26, 2020

7/8/2018

6 Comments

 
Good bye Little Brother
PictureBy Crow

The third of three chicks, Tam ( XV) was always accompanied by his brother and sister. When it came time to be fed, he was left out, but he pushed his way in to get his share too or he would wait patiently then be fed by Rosie after the others were sated. He knew how to fend for himself. When Lassen fledged, Tam was so excited that he jumped up and down. He wanted to fledge too. Which he did a few days later. However, he was not so successful. On his first fledge, he hovered but had trouble getting forward motion. Finally, he flew but only a few feet to the bottom of the boom. Later he fledged again but something went wrong and he was sliding on the cables, possibly hit his head and then disappeared. He was later found behind Riggers where he had been for some time. He was taken to Wildcare and tended to with great skill and care but it soon became apparent there was more wrong than met the human eye, and he was euthanized the weekend of July 26. His plucky spirit had captured the heart of many chatters and he will be sorely missed and well remembered.  
More information can be found on the 2020 page for fledging or by going to Wildcare's Facebook page.
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Feeding Time
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Tam, Lassen, Shasta
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Poster by Crow
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Poem by Crow
Twinkle:
 
 Oh little TamTam.  I will miss you...
 So, off to the spirit high above, free of pain you go. 
Your family feathered will miss you, as well us, skin and bones.
We send you love and strength and hugs, as you go soaring home.
Never forgotten, our baby boy, your personality so bright shown.
 

​ Craigor:

Fly free, little XV.  Like a comet you made a brief but glorious visit among us and then moved on.  Long may you live in our loving memory.

Picture
I wanna fly, I just gotta try
I don’t wanna just hover
I want to go high 
On the crane to join my brother.
 
Take me, wings, take me there
I want to fly like the others,
Help me fly everywhere,
I don’t just want to hover.
 
Carry me forward to the crane
Help me, wings, help me fly,
Let me be an  adult osprey 
Fishing, flying in the sky.
 
Now you’re in the sky, 
Can fly high and even higher
You can fly to the sun
Without ever getting tired.
 
To the stars and above,
Blown by our sorrowing sighs,
Carried on our wings of love,
High into welcoming skies.
 
Over the mountain of your name,
Hover above the fog in sunny sky
While we gazing, fondly remember
The third chick who so wanted to fly.

​midi
Videos are created by the cam's talented Video Assistant(VA) from the GGAS webcam and belong to Golden Gate Audubon Society. 
6 Comments

Peace-Up  (WP)   5/8/19-10/1/19

7/7/2018

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Picture
cap by SaMo
 Peace-up (WP)  and Kiskasit (ZK) were the two surviving chicks of 2019. Peace-up, the eldest,  was quieter than his sister and fledged a day earlier.  He was noted for some clumsy antics. He was  seen flying around the Bay after fledging. Midi thinks she saw him flying behind Richie, learning to fish better. He was the first chick to bring a fish to the nest to eat. He was last seen on the nest on September 4. In January, the chatters were informed by GGRO that Peace-up had been found dead on October 1 on private land in Corte Madera. He had fallen out of a tree. There was no known cause of death. 
Picture
Feeding time May 9, 2019 cap by J
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WP hovering June 24, 2019 gif by Robin
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WP walking down the cable July 9, 2019 gif by ?
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Atop camera housing post-fledge
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WP with fish July 5, 2019 cap by Midi
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The whole family together the night of July 24, 2019 cap by Midi
PictureSaMo

Rest in Peace, Peace-up
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Gamma Ray

7/6/2018

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Picture
Rosie feeding Gamma on its last day May 15, 2019 cap by C.
Gamma was the third chick to be laid and to hatch in 2019. The chicks were given temporary names: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. These were to be replaced in a naming contest later. But Gamma never made it that far. Laid on April 6, it hatched on May 12 and died overnight on May 16, to be always remembered as little Gamma. Here is my log entry for that day:
​Rain and wind. In the middle of the night, Rosie fed the chicks. Gamma was left out and couldn’t crawl back under Rosie. She tried tucking him in but didn’t manage. With Bev and Calgal watching, he gradually weakened and died. Hypothermia. But was he weaker to begin with? There is disagreement here. He was noted for his wobbly head, facing backwards and falling on his back. Both adults looked at him, nudged him, then gradually covered him with nesting material. They also went a bit manic bringing in new nesting material and sticks for a railing.
While all were mourning the chick, an intruder flew over the nest. Rosie chased it off. Robin got a video and it was Rivet! Rosie did not make the intruder call but chirped. Still, she didn’t welcome Rivet to the nest. He flew off.
An amazing day, from grief to joy in a few hours. 

Picture
Chicks alone at night. May 16, 2019 cap by C
​
Picture
Robin
Picture
Rosie and Richie looking at lifeless Gamma. May 16, 2019 cap by J
An osprey takes some dried up sticks and makes itself a nest.
The middle has a softer place, where osprey eggs can rest.
Now, when they come. those osprey eggs are guarded day and night,
By mother and by father—one sits while one takes flight.
 
And in due course the eggs will hatch, the babies will be born,
They stretch their wings and seek the sky, and strive to be airborne.
One day, at last they take the wind and ride it from the nest.
Some come to grief and some to joy; some fail and some are blessed.
 
So, raise your voice to the lucky ones, who sail bravely  through the air,
And when you think of the fallen ones, be sure to send them a prayer.

                                                                                -Crow


​
Picture
J



​Gamma’s Song
 
I have a song unsung
My life from me wrung
A story never told
For I have grown cold.
 
But in my short life
Free of danger and strife,
I was well- loved and known
The seeds of love were sown.
 
Now my spirit may rise
Into heavenly  skies
Where I will be free
Free just to be me.
 
But always to belong
In memory and song.
 
-Midi
Picture
cap and caption by J
Gamma lives on, as an integral part of the nest and in our memories. 

​Video by Robin


​
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Memorial to Whirley

7/5/2018

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Picture
Whirley on lower ledge of crane, wondering how to get back to the nest, on Fledge Day July 3, at 9 in the morning. She did get back to the nest in time for breakfish.
Whirley was the first chick to hatch on the Whirley Crane nest on May 12, 2017, to Richmond and Rosie. This was not the first year the nest had been used, but it was the first year there was a camera, provided by the Golden Gate Audubon Society, so that humans could watch and enjoy and learn about ospreys on the SF Bay.  Whirley and her sibling Rivet captured the attention and love of many people, both local and afar. A lively chat group ensued. Whirley fledged successfully on July 3. In the early morning of July 4, she flew off the nest for some reason and wasn't seen again until July 5, when a barge crew fished her out of the Bay. She was taken to Wildcare but her injuries were too extensive and they had to euthanize her. Her sibling Rivet was banded, migrated South in the Autumn of 2017 and returned briefly to the nest in 2018.
PictureLast Evening on the Nest with Rivet. July 3, 2017. She flew off early the morning of July 4, before it was light.


Ballad for Whirleybird
(tune: Old Blue, supply your own voice!)
 
There was an osprey named Whirley
Lived on a crane not in a tree.
Hello, Whirley, we’re glad to meet you.
Hello, Whirley, and your sibling too.
 
One day Whirley said to mother nearby
“Momma dear, I want to fly.”
“Go on, Whirley, give it a try.
Go on, Whirleybird, you can try to fly.”
 
So Whirley lifted off from the nest,
Hovered in the air above the rest.
“Good job, Whirley, now you are free.
Good job, Whirley, now, you’re just like me.”
 
The next day, Whirley left the nest,
Flew around then landed to rest.
“Come back, Whirley, come home to me.
Poppa has a big fish to eat.”
 
After a while, Whirley grew hungry
So she flew back to her family.
“Good girl, Whirley, you got your wish.
Now it’s time to eat your fish.”
 
But that night, Whirley could not rest,
And so she flew again from the nest.
“Come back, Whirley, it is still night,
“Wait until early morning light.”
 
But Whirley that restless bird
Didn’t heed a single word.
“No,Momma, I want to be free.
And  I just want to be me.”
 
Whirley flew all that day
Up and down and around the bay.
Chirping, “Here I am, family, now I am free.
Here I am, family, don’t you worry about me. 
 
Then Whirley dove into the Bay
To catch her  first own fish prey.
“Oh no, Whirley, wait for us to come too.
“No, no, Whirleybird,, we have to teach you.”
 
But for Whirley it was too late,
Her restlessness cast her fate.
“Good-by, Whirley, we’re sad to see you go.
Good-by, Whirleybird, we’ll miss you so.”
 
Now Whirley dives into primordial sea
Catches shining fish for all to see.
Dive on, Whirley, catch a fish for me.
Dive on, Whirleybird, be wild and free.
 
And she soars so high in the skies
The sun reflects her golden eyes.
Fly on, Whirley, fly to the sun.
Fly on, Whirleybird, oh restless one. 
 
Now when you look up in the sky,
If you chance to see our Whirley fly by, 
Tell her, hello Whirley, now you’re wild and free.
Fly high, Whirleybird,, looking down on me. 
 
Hello, Whirley, now you’re wild and free,
Fly high, Whirleybird, looking down on me.  
 
Midi 7/17
Picture
Whirley on Dutra Barge, July 5, 2017 after being fished out of the Bay.

​In Memoriam 


       You were always the restless one,                  
       Ever looking towards the sun                         
      Just waiting for the day                                  
     When you could fly away.                             
 
        You were eager to try                                     
                   To spread your wings and fly                                    
        While your brother wanted to rest                    
         You couldn’t wait to leave the nest.               
 
            And that restlessness cast your fate               
         As you flew off into the late                          
                     Dark night sky on your own,                                    
​Spent the next day alone.                    
 
       Now,Whirley, a year from that day               
         We send our loving thoughts your way          
           Pray that you now are flying high                  
                    In some far off, beautiful sky                                    
          Fishing in a mythical sea                                 
        Happy and content to be free.                        
            
 
Midi 7/5/18
Picture
photo capped and remade by Crow
 Whirley, the Osprey
​Rivet's big sister
May 12, 2017-July 8, 2017
​Good by, Whirley Bird. You will live in our memories.
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Snakey

7/2/2018

1 Comment

 
Picture
captured by Kat? from the GGAS cam 6/30/17
​Snakey’s Going Home Song
 
Oh, give me a home
Where the wild turkeys roam, 
Where Sasha and Craig like to play.
Where sometimes is heard
A chirping osprey bird
And live chat is on all the day. 
 
Home, home on the range,
Where Craig and Diane cook gourmet meals,
Where spices abound
And auto-tune can’t be found 
And I can lie in the sun all the day. 
 
How often at night, 
When the Bay was bright
And the osprey chicks rested their heads
Did I sing my lonely song
Wondering where I could belong
And if I would have a home some day. 
 
Home , home on the range,
I now have a place to stay,
A place to call home,
No more to roam,
And never to be sold on Ebay. 
 
I'm just a poor snake stranger,
I'm traveling through that world below;
There is no eel grass, wire or danger, 
In that bright world to which I go.
I'm going there to meet Diane and Sasha,
I'm going there no more to roam;
I'm just a going over to Novato,
I'm just a going over home.

I know dark clouds will gather o'er me,
I know I may be rained upon,
But greening hills lie out before me,
And a bright lush green lawn.
I'm going there to see Craigor,
He said he'd meet me when I come;
I'm just a going over to Novato,
I'm just a going over home.


​
A purple snake lived with bravado  
On an osprey nest in El Dorado.   
One gray day he fell down   
But by Tony was found       
Now he’s on the boat to Novato    



                                                                    The Purple Snake 
                                                                             by Midi
 (Please note that this story is fiction. Only Snakey and Craigor know where the truth lies. And the cap was not red! At least not that year 😀

A young boy named Craig crept downstairs early Christmas morning, before anyone else was awake. Santa had come! In his stocking, he found various goodies. There was an orange and some candy and a can of nuts. When he opened the can of nuts, a toy snake sprang out.  The boy laughed aloud. But then he saw there were more presents. On the mantle, a bird with a red beak bobbed up and down over a glass of water. There was also a glass globe with black and white discs revolving slowly. The boy wondered about these toys and the science behind them, but he would consider that later. For under the mantle, on the hearth, he saw more: a game called Shoot the Moon and a long, purple velvet snake with googly eyes. Craig fell in love with the snake immediately. He named it Snakey.
The rest of Christmas Day passed as all Christmas Days, Craig and his sister playing with their toys, family visiting, and a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. That night, the boy got into bed and fell asleep immediately, his new snake friend at his side. And every night after that, the snake slept with the boy. 
The snake, of course, was a toy. While the boy loved his snake for many years, and it went on vacation with him to the cabin, it finally fell by the wayside, as the boy grew older and his interests turned to art and music. He learned to play an instrument and he got artists’ pencils to draw. These consumed his waking hours. And finally, one day when he was at camp, his mother was housecleaning and she got rid of Snakey. 
Many years later, when Craig was now a man, a little girl named Maria went shopping with her mother. It was the day before Christmas, and the girl’s mother could not afford new toys for her daughter. So she took her to the thrift store. There the girl fell in love with a purple snake. It was old and no longer had any eyes, but Maria didn’t care. She loved it anyway. She tied a red ribbon around its neck, named it Snakey and slept every night with it. 
Maria took Snakey everywhere with her, to daycare, to the store, to the park and to the beach where she and her mother liked to walk. And one day, Maria put Snakey down for a moment while she waded in the water. Her mother called to her that it was time to go home. “Ahorita,” her mother admonished. And in that terrible moment, Maria ran to her mother and left Snakey on the beach. Of course, she realized her mistake as soon as she got home, but her mother didn’t have time to take her back to the beach and it was not until her big brother got home that evening that she could return. Alas, Snakey was gone.
Maybe another child took it, her mother said. Or the waves came up and washed him away. We’ll get you another toy, she promised. A new one this time.
Maria couldn’t sleep that night or the next. She thought Snakey had run away and she didn’t know why. Had she made him mad? 
Meanwhile, two little osprey chicks had hatched in a nest atop a rusty old crane on the waterfront. Just like Craig and Maria’s parents, the father osprey, whom the humans named Richie, liked to bring gifts to his mate and children. He especially liked red things, so he brought a red cap, a red pennant, a red plant pot. And each of these was rejected by his mate Rosie;  she would push the object out of the nest and she took the red cap, flew out over the bay and dropped the cap in the water. But Richie was not discouraged. He would simply go looking for something else. And one day, he found the perfect gift for his two chicks. It was long and would help fence them in. It was purple not red, but it had a red ribbon around its neck. It had a large soft head to use as a pillow. So Richie picked up the snake, which was bigger than he, and flew with it back to the nest. 
Rosie seemed to accept the snake. It did make a good fence. And the two chicks liked it. At night, they would snuggle up against its warm body and lay their heads on its soft head. They were unaware of the two human children who had done much the same. 
The humans who came to watch the nest became aware of the snake and wondered how it had gotten there. Where had Richie found it? And how did he lug it all the way to the high nest? As the chicks grew older, the snake was moved to the edge of the nest and and forgotten. Soon it dangled over the top and was in danger of falling. But it hung on. 
One day, Maria’s mother said, “Let’s go to a different spot today, instead of the beach. I read about a bird nest high on a crane. I would like to see it.”
Well that sounded like fun, so Maria agreed. She didn’t like going to the beach now anyway because it reminded her of Snakey, whom she still missed very much. When they got to the spot, Maria craned her neck to look way up high. There she saw a large bird perched on a railing. That was Rosie. In the nest, Maria saw the head of the young chicks. Suddenly, Maria shouted. “Momma, I see Snakey!”
“Where?” Her mother looked around on the ground.
“Up there, in the nest.” 
Her mother looked, but all she saw was a round purple thing and a red ribbon.
“Yes, it looks a bit like Snakey,” she admitted. “But it’s probably just a piece of kelp.The birds like to gather kelp for their nest.”
“No, it is Snakey,” Maria mumbled. But she didn’t argue further; she knew it would do no good. Strangely, it made her feel better to see Snakey there. She didn’t need him anymore, she decided. The chicks were little; they needed a bedtime pillow. They could have Snakey.
A man and a woman came up next to her. 
“There are the osprey,” the man told his wife. “That’s Rosie the mother on the railing. And you can just see the heads of the chicks in the nest.” Then he exclaimed, “And I see Snakey!”
“Who?” his wife asked, bewildered.
“Snakey, my pet snake. The one I had when I was a boy. He had googly eyes. I slept with him every night.”
His wife just looked at him. “Craig, that was years ago. How would your snake end up in an osprey nest?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “But it sure looks like him.”
“Excuse me,” Maria said in her bravest, most adult voice. “That isn’t your snake, that is my snake. That’s Snakey. I used to sleep with him. But then I left him on the beach by mistake.”
Craig looked down at the little girl and smiled. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “My Snakey didn’t have a red ribbon and he had googly eyes.” Then he stopped, thinking.
“He was probably new when you got him?” he asked tentatively.
Maria shook her head. “No, Momma couldn’t afford that so we went to the thrift store.”
“Hold on,” Craig said. He took out his cell phone and placed a call. “Hi, Mom,” he said. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a question. Do you remember that purple snake I had as a child? I don’t suppose you remember what you did with him?” There was a pause. “No, I’m not still mad. I was just wondering whether you threw him away or what. I never asked.” There was another pause. “You gave him to the thrift store? Which one. Yeah, yeah, really? Okay, thanks Mom.” Another pause. “Nothing, I was just wondering. No, I’m not excited. I know it was a long time ago. Listen, Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later. “
Craig turned to Maria’s mother. “Did you buy Snakey at the store on the corner by the grocery?”
She nodded. “Yes, that store is so old. I think it has been there forever.”
“As long as I have,” Craig answered. He turned to Maria. “I think that is my Snakey and your Snakey,” he said. “He once had eyes but somehow he lost them. I don’t know how he got the red ribbon.”
 “I gave it to him,” Maria said. 
“And now he belongs to the osprey chicks,” Craig mused. “I wonder what they call him.”
“Snakey,” Maria answered. She didn’t have to guess. She just knew. What else would you call a pet snake? “Where do you think he’ll go next?” she asked.
“Who knows?” Craig answered with a far off look in his eyes. His wife and Maria’s mother just looked at each other, smiled and shook their heads. 
 
 

 
This story is fiction and just for fun. While Snakey was a fun item in the nest, in general items made by humans are not good for the ospreys. Nets, plastic sheeting, wire, fishing line and other human made items endanger the birds. Please dispose properly of any trash when you are by the bay. 
 
 

Picture
captured by Craigor from the GGAS cam 6/23/17
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    Midi

    is a poet and writer of children's stories who has been watching the adventures of the ospreys on the Whirley Crane Nest in Richmond, Ca. for the past six years. 

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