Fly or Die
BY DANIEL W. DRAKE PUBLISHER
"Hawkeye," I said to the red tail who alit early in the morning on the dead pine tree we keep in the yard for birds. I was watering the flowers. "Please do something about those young ospreys. They start screeching at the crack of dawn and keep it up all day. This has been going on for almost a week. I haven't been able to get any sleep. It's awful."

"Good morning," Hawkeye retorted, introducing a note of civility. "You talk to birds. Why don't you speak to them yourself? You are an advocate of the direct approach. Go for it. Don't have me do your dirty work."

"Well, I thought it might be more effective coming from you. You are a respected member of the raptor community. You must be a cousin, or something."

Hawkeye fixed one of his eyes on me. After a moment he said, "You know those babies are just trying to find their way in the world. They have just been fledged. They have to learn how to fly and how to fish so they can eat, all in just a couple of days. And once the parents make sure that they can stay airborne, they take off, leaving the babies to fend for themselves totally. They have to work out to make sure they are in shape for the long flight south and they have to fatten themselves up. They leave before the end of the month. That's a tall order for someone who, just a couple of weeks ago, lived in a three-foot nest and hid under mama's feathers while waiting for dad to come back with dinner."

"True," I said. "It probably is a bit of a shock for them when, all of a sudden, mama says it's time for them to leave the nest and that their first challenge is to make it safely from the top of the 30-foot pole that they have lived on to somewhere else without crashing."

"Darn right it is," Hawkeye snorted. "You humans do it in stages. You go to kindergarten. You go to school. You go to camp. You go to college. You baby yourselves - or rather your babies. You shelter your young people for years. With us it is just a matter of days. You either make it,

or you don't. It's as simple as that. No one in the bird world cares about MCAS or whatever those stupid tests are called. It's fly or die."

"Are you going to talk to them or aren't you?" I asked, a bit gruffly.

"Probably not." Hawkeye looked at me askance. "What I am trying to tell you is that this noise is part of that learning process. I did the same thing when I was fledged. I hated every minute of that first week or so. I needed to tell my parents how angry I was at them and I needed to keep in close touch with my sister. We don't have BlackBerrys you know. We can't chat or text or email. The only way we can keep in touch is by screeching."

"I see what you're saying," I said, "but do they have to be so loud so early in the morning?"

"Why not?" Hawkeye replied. "They wake up with the…ah birds."

He continued. "Let's talk about young humans. I have already said how they are coddled. The fledging process takes years and even then a lot of people don't make it through. The difference between humans and birds is that humans who don't succeed at fledging are still around; with birds it's fly or . …"

"You already said that," I interrupted.

"I know," Hawkeye said. "It is so much better than "sink or swim." Although, I guess ospreys can sink if they latch on to too big a fish. Anyway, I just made it up and I thought it was worth repeating."

"You are right," I said, "as usual. Look at the horror stories we have heard recently, right here on the island. Young people get bored easily and when they are bored, they drink too much. Then some of them commit mayhem, on people, pets and places."

The bird interjected, "I certainly see it all the time in the mornings when I fly over the beaches and moors. The detritus is pretty amazing. Can't you teach them to behave better?"

"Well," I said, "they are taught not to litter, but as with many things, some of us adults don't set very good examples for our young people. We drink too much. The mayhem we commit is constantly in the media. We even go to war - and then send them as our proxies."

"Where are we going with all this?" Hawkeye asked. "We started out talking about squawking young ospreys and somehow got to parsing the state of young American humans, at least on Nantucket. I was hoping for something lighter when I dropped in to say hello."

"We could talk about the tourists," I said. "They are always good for a laugh."

"No," Hawkeye replied. "I don't think so. Except, I see you have a visitor; a four footed one. Not that little one that I always want to use for target practice, but a big one. I would think more than twice before targeting that one."

"She's actually a cream puff," I said. "She's a family dog who is visiting for a month while her floors are being redone. Please refrain from any aggressive behavior. I'd hate to have to explain any talon marks on her back to her owners when they get here."

Just then a young osprey flew by, screeching frenetically.

"Do you see what I mean?" I asked.

"Yea, kinda. She is probably yelling at her mother." Hawkeye said. "I guess I could ask the ospreys to keep the noise down in the morning. No yelling before 6 a.m. But what are you going to do about these young people?"

"I don't think there is anything I can do," I said. "I am just another talking head. I can't change the way people are brought up or the habits of the people who raise them."

"Well there is the difference between a hawk and a human. We do, we don't talk."

"Sort of like 'fly or die'," I ventured.

"Exactly!"

With that the red tail took off and went high into the thermals to await the right moment to approach the young osprey. One could only hope that he decided not to use the young birds for target practice.

The next morning, the first call of the osprey was not heard until almost 6 a.m.

Now, about that party down the street.

… I

The "Lighthouse Keeper" reflects the views of the author and does not necessarily represent the editorial position of The Nantucket Independent. Please send any ideas or comments to drake@nantucketindependent.com.