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

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

​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

First feeding. cap by lurker

---

Maybe I should try. July 15, 2022

Where did everyone go? July 15, 2022

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. 

Molate's Spirit Nest, made by midi and placed at Pt. Molate Park in Richmond.

Gone Ahead. Remembering Tam, Peace Up, Whirley, little Gamma and the egg that didn't hatch. picture created by FW

Rivet (ZR 2017) and Brooks (XA 2022) were left as the only chick for their year. photo created by FW