Birding is being open, expecting the unexpected. Being ready for it, having your binoculars and camera half-lifted all the time, your eyes scanning the sky and water. I wasn't expecting ospreys, but there were two at North Bend this September day, peeping their complaints at my intrusion.
I'm used to phlegmatic New England and southern coastal ospreys who don't mind if you paddle right beneath them. Where are these from, that they take me as such a threat?
Nothing to defend here, no nest or young, and yet they're sorely affronted that they must share this quiet water with me. Even here, he's peeping and complaining, just before he takes off around a bend.
I was expecting Sachems, and I found them. Sachems are common in fall in my part of the country.