Seabirds on a Florida Beach

Bird-watching brings peace. The mind's chatter stops. Wild birds teach me something too deep to articulate. 

Snowy egret fishes in waters shaded from the noonday sun.

Fort DeSoto Park, encompassing five barrier islands on the west coast of Florida south of St. Petersburg, is a bird sanctuary. The green-blue shallows with schools of fish and white sand beaches lined with mangroves and palm hammocks invite birds. 

After consultation with the bird book, I'm inclined to identify this as a little blue heron.

Sanderlings never seem to stop skittering from the waves.

With a surge of delight I notice a large bird perching on a nest of sticks atop a tall cement chimney next to the old fort. A closer approach confirms it is an osprey.

Ospreys' nest

Another adult osprey approaches the nest, and the parent lifts its wing. The ospreys seemed unconcerned about the photographer far below. 

When I walk around to the other side of the chimney, I see three osprey chicks perched close to the edge. In the photo below, two of the youngsters hide their heads.

Osprey chicks

The white ibis' long beak allows it to dig deep in the sand.

I got out the bird book for this one, too. I believe it is a willet.

A Whole Lot of Peeping Going On

Baby cardinals, the day before fledging

Yesterday it happened. The first clue was incessant peeping at mid-morning. I moved slowly to the window and saw a brown-feathered baby cardinal standing on the rim of the nest looking right at me. He flexed his wings, took a little hop, and landed on a branch just inches from the nest. I was amazed at witnessing this – and a little worried. Had I scared the cardinal into fledging too soon?

Baby cardinal gets ready to leave the nest.

Two babies remained in the nest, one quite active and one more sedate. I was fascinated by what happened next. Mama cardinal flew into the camellia, hopped up to the branch where the bold Baby Cardinal 1 sat and fed him. She stuck her beak into his open mouth several times, ignoring the loud peeping of the other babies, then flew off. I saw this scene repeat itself several times. Mama clearly was favoring the first cardinal out of the nest.

Baby cardinal 2 practices using his wings. 

Baby Cardinal 2 responded with more activity. He opened his wings. He hopped. Soon he was standing on the rim of the nest. Still, mama cardinal ignored him. Suddenly, he, too took the leap. He flapped his wings and behold! He landed on a higher branch, about two feet from the nest. It took mama cardinal about two more feedings to take notice of him. I cheered internally when mama returned and fed Baby Cardinal 2 first.

Baby Cardinal 2 ventures out of the nest.

Meanwhile, Baby Cardinal 3 had gone for well over an hour without food. I was concerned, but what could I do? I had to leave the house for a couple of hours. When I returned, I checked the nest. Baby Cardinal 3 was now out, awkwardly clutching a branch above the nest.  It stayed there for quite some time. Mama cardinal was nowhere in sight. Neither were the two other fledglings. 

Baby cardinal 3. Notice the lack of tail feathers.

I left the window, reluctantly, to get some things done. The weather had been unsettled all day, hot and humid, with occasional brief showers. A thunderstorm moved in and torrents of rain pounded the earth. I dashed to the window to look into the tree and see how Baby Cardinal 3 would respond to the rain. He was gone.

I haven’t seen the fledglings since. Several times, I walked through the garden looking for them. I could hear peeping everywhere. I tracked the peeping to some large red tip photinias in the neighbor’s yard, but couldn’t see the babies. Later, my husband saw what he thought was Baby Cardinal 1, making short flights between a maple and two camellias, with mama observing.