3/29/2026

Harriett sits quietly.  Nothing escapes her notice. She is thinking about the weather, the wind, and fish.

The North River, Carteret County, N.C., flows quietly behind my house, moving with the tide. The sun is shining. The sky is cerulean, blue. White cumulus clouds hang low, with streaks of cirrus drifting above. The sky deepens to cobalt overhead. A couple of seagulls drift by, unhurried.

Throughout spring and summer, Harriett’s mate will bring her flounder, small drum, and croaker if all goes well. She’s looking forward to speckled trout and bluefish as the water warms. And sometimes a menhaden—her favorite.

Ospreys like fish that are easy to catch, near the surface, easy to grab, easy to carry, and worth the effort. No cooking required 🙂

“What’s this?” Harriett asks, as she is presented a pinfish—small, spiny, full of bones, not much meat. She studies it.

“OK,” she accepts it quietly. “I hope he’s not proud of it.”

Experience has taught her not to be overly critical.

The Homo sapiens return daily to document progress. The humans whisper below.
Harriett listens.

“They believe quiet makes them less visible.”

She watches them and wonders if they realize —They are part of the story.