Then feathers bristling, he turned back to watching the river. I'd noted the huge Osprey nest had at least three babies. This grand bird was fishing for his family's lunch.
I had an odd sense he wanted me to know he was there. And just like me, he was watching over his little ones--providing for them.
He sat watching us and the waters the entire time we played on the bank. As my niece and I left, I called to him in his "language." He looked down with a fierce, kindly gaze.
As we continued walking, I turned to take another photo of him.
It seemed he said goodbye. As strange as it seems, I felt a certain rare kinship with this majestic bird.