Long-time residents can reflect on many years of making a stop along the Boulder/Gilpin County line on a drive along the Peak to Peak highway heading to or from work to enjoy the stunning view of Baldy, and if lucky, catch some fishing action by the resident pair of osprey. Nothing quite made a drive home after a long day like taking in the setting sun over the divide, and watching the resident raptors perform their unique, full-body plunge into the chilly waters, emerging triumphantly with a fat trout for dinner. Occasionally we would be blessed by a low pass over the highway as they headed into the trees of the Kelly Dahl campground to dine on their pescatarian delight.
Sadly, that pair has not been seen on the nest they called their summer home since 2020. Being that osprey typically migrate to the same nest year after year, one can only assume they came to their natural end. While occasional individual osprey have since been spotted flying between the roadside lake and Manchester Lake, a mated pair has yet to take over the nest. The resident elder bald eagle pair still enjoy the comforts of the platform from which to fish and enjoy the spectacular views, but they typically move deeper into the property as summer sets in to fish from bigger waters, leaving the nest as an occasional place of respite for themselves or sometimes the herons who enjoy the lake as well.
Osprey are known to form a monogamous breeding relationship for life; however, they tend to only pair up during the mating and nesting season and live the remainder of the year as solitary individuals. This includes during the migration. Even when a pair is expecting an egg, the male may also build a second nest nearby, allowing a place for either of the pair to get away for a bit while its mate takes its turn with incubation or to escape the more crowded nest with chicks. In my own years of observing our local pair, I’m not sure I ever saw a second nest, nor behavior displaying the existence of one, as they seemed to enjoy one another’s company sharing the home. They did however enjoy a few specific trees and utility poles around the lake from which to perch and still be in close communication with their mate.
Typically, the male of the pair will be the first to arrive to the summer home, spending a few days repairing the nest and building it back up after being blasted by winter’s winds. Sometimes a solitary female on her own journey north might take rest with the male before his mate arrives but is immediately evicted upon the matron’s return. It is possible that the lone female might be an offspring from a previous year, simply knowing the nest as her birth-home and the male as her father. The image featured this week was captured on just such a sunny April day of nest rebuilding and refortifying.
Osprey do not begin to mate until around their 4th year of age, and until they find a mate, will often live alone or in a small roosting group. It is not until a mating bond is formed that they seek out or build a nest. In the case of our long-time residents, they seemed to enjoy the nest as a pair for the duration of the summer, regardless of having a successful clutch of eggs. This is not always the case, as sometimes if a pair is unsuccessful, they may part ways early and go back to their solitary existence until it is time to try again the next year.
As last year’s summer was winding down, I was driving past the lake one evening and my eye was caught by a familiar looking white head and dark body. A lone osprey sat proudly on one of the perches adjacent to the nest. It made my heart swell thinking that maybe one of the offspring of our pair was scoping out the territory before heading south for the winter. Being mere weeks away from the annual return, I hold deep hope that this year we will see not only the return of that bird, but also soon accompanied by a mate to once again take up summer residency in the most perfect mountain nest with that very best view of our Indian Peaks Wilderness in the distance.
**For newcomers to the area, please note that the lake is private, and no trespassing is allowed, hence my statement regarding one’s binoculars. The human and wildlife residents thank you for keeping it that way.
Originally published in The Mountain-Ear
