My dad had been on business trip for a few days and gotten home that night. He went to the kitchen for a late night snack. That’s when he opened the freezer door and out of our harvest gold side by side the osprey carcass flung itself to the floor. I can remember lots of noise and “holy shit, holy shit”. The osprey’s talons had gotten caught on the shelf inside the door, giving it a final flight towards its scrambling prey. Its been over 20 years and dad still brings it up.
With my mom visiting these past few weeks we talked about lots of fun memories.
My mother is a marine biologist and an animal lover to the core. Several years back there had been a concern with shore and marsh birds turning up dead with no apparent cause. One summer afternoon mom and I were walking on the beach and she found a dead osprey. She was very concerned and wanted to have her friend at the university perform a necropsy. She picked something out of a nearby trashcan, wrapped it up and we took it home. Looking back at this I really think I should have been one freaked out kid, but that was just what mom did, field work. It was just “no biggie” as she would say.