It has become my habit to carry my little Lumix “point and shoot” camera with me whenever I go for a walk-about or for a horseback ride. The camera sits in my vest front pocket until needed, yet it also secured around my neck with a soft lanyard to prevent me from dropping it as I struggle to keep my horse still or continue to throw Jewel’s ball while taking photos. Animals! They often entail multitasking.

 My camera carrying habit has richly paid off. It has made me a much better observer and drawn me into taking notice of light and angles and distance and framing. I do not fancy myself a good photographer, nor do I really aspire to being one. I lack the patience to learn the technology and, frankly, my old body simply doesn’t want to put itself into the contortions required to position the camera just right to get the right shot at the right angle. Mostly I just enjoy the process on my own terms, satisfied with reasonable quality photos that reflect my view on the world.

On a recent morning walk along our bench overlooking the riparian area next to the river, the mid morning light bathed the horses and beckoned me with my camera. Everything was so peaceful, quiet, and soft. Spring’s tender new shoots and just opening leaves on the trees cast an barely visible green filter over the view, rendering it a romantic scene from a British novel. It whispered, “take a moment, breath the clear air, pause for nothing but being still.”

As I walked down the incline, I noticed Tyler’s art in the background, a exotic object without a hint of utilitarian purpose standing in the pasture, inviting comment and wonder. The horses expressed no opinion. They ignored it. It is not edible. It presents no danger. It can’t be used for scratching or shelter. It just is. But for me it adds another dimension, another frame to capture with my camera. It held me for several minutes, watching its inert stillness while the horse lazily grazed about it.

Drawing my eye back from the art work, it landed on my Lovely Lady Lonza, aglow with the back light sun, strong, and totally in her element, without care or worry. The champagne color of her early spring coat which has yet to discard all of its thick winter fur, played with the light. While separated by a fence, I kissed towards her and she came, allowing me to caress her with my camera to capture the richness of her mane. She stood for a few minutes, letting we adore her with my hands and my words; then she turned and went back in search sweet new grass.

Hearing my kisses, our newest horse, Mystery, with his gangly teen aged body came also. It surprised me. Arriving as a four year old directly off the large ranch of his birth, Mystery has been here only several months. He was unaccustomed to daily interactions with people which manifested itself in some shyness and an initial reluctance to come forward to meet people. I smiled at his progress. I spent several minutes scratching him and turning my lens in his direction to capture his face, his beautiful soft eye, and the light brown tips of his otherwise black mane. He was a mystery when he came – hence the name. He is now revealing himself to be a kindly, curious, and willing young fellow. What more will he bring to us?

AUTHORS NOTE: You will see Mystery standing in front of a barbed wire fence. We at Dunrovin Ranch do not use barbed wire for fences except where there are cattle on either side of the fence. Horses and barbed wire are not a good combination; yet cattle don’t respect anything except barbed wire or electric fences. Life! So full of compromises.

Each year as the calendar arrives at the ides of March, all eyes at Dunrovin begin to turn upward for the first appearance of our most famous seasonal residents – the ospreys. Since Dunrovin came into existence, the ospreys of spring and summer have been a dominant feature. They command the skies and they fill the air with their boisterous chirps as they set up housekeeping in their enormous nest. Each year they return in heed of nature’s call to breed, care for their chicks, and fledge the next generation of ospreys.

It was not until 2011 when Dunrovin installed the web camera above the ospreys’ nest that we were able to distinguish individual birds. From the ground, most ospreys look very similar. There is little variation in their color patterns and unless an osprey has a wonky feather or other distinguishing feature, it is nearly impossible to tell them apart as they fly by. The web camera, however, allows us to look them right in the eyes – and it is the eyes that are their telling characteristic. Each bird has a unique set of spots or flecks in the iris of each of their eyes. By comparing the fleck patterns from year to year, we can distinguish the birds and verify that the same ospreys return each year.

Indeed, since 2011, the same ospreys, whom we lovingly named Ozzie and Harriet, did return. Then, in 2014, tragedy struck. Ozzie was killed by an eagle, and Harriet was left along to raise her surviving chicks. She valiantly stayed long after her normal departure date and successfully fledged her two chicks. In 2015, Harriet returned alone and spent a chaotic and dramatic summer finding and training a new mate, whom we have appreciatively named Hal – short for Hallelujah, Harriet has found a mate!

While Harriet did manage to lay two eggs in 2015, she was unable to adequately incubate them for lack of a proper mate who would supply her with food. Hal arrived on the scene a little too late to be of much help. However, the infertile eggs did serve as great “practice eggs” for him to learn how to properly sit them. It was by all measures an unsuccessful breeding year – unless Hal returns with Harriet and last summer’s learning translates into an successful breeding this year. In spite of the lack of chicks, it was, for all of us viewers, a very interesting year. Little did we all understand just how much learning goes into successful breeding. Nature provided Hal with the tools; but is was Harriet who showed him how to use them.

So now our eyes will be focused on the eyes of any osprey that lands on the Dunrovin nest. It is a popular nest among ospreys, as there is no another one for miles around and the fishing grounds are good. It is sure to be occupied. But by whom? Will Harriet have survived the winter? Will she return to the nest? Will Hal return as her mate? Will they successfully breed and raise their first chicks together. The eyes of the ospreys that take up residence will answer our first questions, while only the passing of summer will reveal the answer to our latter.

Here are some close up photos of Harriet’s eyes. Notice the thick field of flecks in the lower, outside quadrant of each eye. In her left eye, she also has a rather large fleck at about 2 o’clock.

Now contrast Harriet’s eyes with Hal’s. His eyes have far fewer flecks. In fact, they are a only three significant flecks in his left eye and only two prominent flecks in his right eye.

As soon as an osprey lands this year, which should be any day now, we will swing the web camera around to try to get a clear close up photo of its eyes. And, of course, our hopes are that we will ultimately see the same four eyes displayed in the photos above.

Naturally, there are other, less definitive, signs of each bird which can be used to tell Harriet and Hal apart. Harriet’s dark forehead feathers come down almost to her beak, while Hal has more white feathers immediately above his beak. Harriet is larger than Hal, as most females are larger than males.

Harriet has a more distinct “necklace” of darker feather around her chest. Hal has longer and slimmer legs. Harriet, on the right in all of the photos below, has slightly more color variation in the feather on her back.

Here’s hoping that we soon greet these two magnificent birds back to Dunrovin for a successful year that produces chicks and keeps us in awe the entire summer.