We were walking the IB pier today and came upon this gentleman wagging a small mackerel at an osprey perched on a light pole.
She wasn’t interested in the small fish initially, but his whistles finally brought her down to grab at the meal. They have done this before.
Thanks to past experience, he knew how much those talons can hurt.
And he dropped the fish before she could grab it.
She swooped back around though, so he raised it again for another pass.
This time, success!
He hasn’t named her yet, but probably soon.
It’s always the same.
It’s always different.
There’s always something to do.
There’s always nothing to be done.
I always thought pigeons looked a little greasy. I now see that even in flight they do. But they also, like all things that fly, are pretty spectacular.
This house is the southernmost building on the U.S. West coast. The washed-up flipper reminded me of another picture I took several years ago on a beach thousands of miles away. Those are the reasons I took this picture.
For the 4th, we joined friends at their neighborhood beach club on the lake. We paddle boarded, kayaked, swam, played foosball and ate. And it was just barely warm enough to do it all.
D did the most swimming, but JJ did go off the high platform. I was in a kayak with J at the time, so couldn’t document it, but I did get this: