One of the delights of living on the Shore is sharing the place with the osprey. They’re the other ‘seasonals,’ showing up for the summer for many of the same reasons as their human counterparts – good weather, good food, nice place for the kids. For me, spring arrives the first day I spot an osprey.

Ospreys like large summer homes with good views. They build their nests on structures that let them spread out. They return each year to the same nest, adding and expanding. Researchers say some of the nests end up weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Man-made platforms dot the landscape near the water, but the birds also like channel markers and power line frames. The signal of Salisbury’s public radio station was disrupted this spring when the birds started building on the station’s transmitter tower.

Because the nests are so visible and the birds are so active, it’s easy to form an emotional bond with them. There are eagles in my stretch of the Shore, and it is always a thrill to see them, but they remain aloof and distant. Not so the osprey. I’ve seen them flying over Carroll Street in Salisbury with fresh-caught fish from the river.

There’s a nest at Upper Ferry, on a platform adjacent to the ferry landing. I was there yesterday and the babies were looking out over the edge of the nest, waiting for whichever parent who had the duty to deliver lunch. Osprey share the parental duties, one hunting while the other minds the kids. Whichever was in charge of domestic duties for the afternoon was perched on the nearby light pole, imperiously ignoring the cars and ferry (and the kids, for that matter) while watching the river. Waiting for the ferry can sometimes be a frustration, but having the nest there helps keep things in perspective.

If you are out on the water, you can get very close to the nests. The parents will fly away as you approach, calling in their oddly high-pitched voices (a bird that big should have a deeper cry). They are not abandoning their chicks, but trying to draw you away from them. They circle and swoop and I don’t doubt if you tried to get into the nest, you’d have an unhappy encounter with their talons. But they’re tolerant enough to let you get a glimpse of their babies.

But while they are protective, they are not into multi-generational living. The chicks’ first flight from the nest is also their last. The day they take off, the parents slam the door shut, and the babies are on their own – a very literal interpretation of ‘empty nest.’