That is No Osprey…

Suddenly pointing up at the sky, I shouted to my out-of-towner friend to look at the three screeching “obviously not seagulls” birds hovering above the Mattapoisett River estuary, where it meets the harbor near the Mattapoisett YMCA.

“Oh, look at the ospreys!” I cried, my words too slow for my racing thought process that had already figured out that the birds were actually not ospreys at all.

No, these three were really much bigger than an osprey. Humongous, even. With distinctly white heads and tails, their wings stretched straight out from their bodies as they flew with deep, heavy wing strokes, soaring in tremendous circles high overhead – unlike the kink of the osprey’s wings that form an “M” shape as it flies with steady wingbeats, hovering before it dives down at a fish in the water. And definitely unlike the “V” shape of the turkey vulture as it rocks side-to-side floating upon the thermal air currents.

I knew what they were after mentally eliminating all other contenders from the list of suspects in my mind. This was going to be one of those rare exhilarating instances when one gets to squeal out in excitement, “Those are Haliaeetus leucocephalus!” Just kidding. “Those are bald eagles!”

Bald eagles are Massachusetts’ largest raptors (birds of prey), with a wingspan up to seven feet wide, and a body length up to about three feet long. They can weigh anywhere between eight and 15 pounds. Their conspicuous white heads and tails, in stark contrast to the deep, dark blackish-brown of their plumage, instantly sets them apart from other more common raptors like hawks and falcons.

The foot bridge across the Mattapoisett River along the trail that links the YMCA with the bike path is one of my favorite spots to go hang out with herons, ospreys, and piping plovers in peace within their estuary habitat. (I have always loved the word “estuary.” For me, it whispers of both a place and an emotion. Something sacred in between.)

This special spot never disappoints. There is always something magical in nature that happens here whenever I visit, something beguiling. Even just witnessing the otherwise un-witnessed Zen of the fish that flop in the water, breaking the surface for a split second with a flippery “splosh” by the dozens is enough to not feel alone in the moment, in this little corner of the Great Void we call Tri-Town.

But these three bald eagles were impressive; of all the myriad moments of delight the estuary has to offer throughout the year in every season, this was so far my most memorable – that is, until the next day when I returned alone, and again spotted my three new friends.

On the second day, I saw one ascending up from the river side of the foot bridge, climbing higher in altitude in what felt to me like slow-motion – only about 100 feet away from me. As it flew up and away, a spiteful seagull approached her from behind, darting alongside and chasing the eagle away and into a far-off tree – an action I undoubtedly perceived as harassment, from where I was standing (bug-eyed, with jaw-dropped mouth).

I spotted the other two eagles in the other direction, soaring majestically, as bald eagles do, over Mattapoisett Harbor. Were they ospreys, they would have been indiscernible in the distance. But the sheer size of the bald eagles set them as prominent spiraling specks in the sky.

Even though this setting, an open coastal area and estuary, is precisely the kind of place a bald eagle would inhabit, bald eagles are still a rare sight in Massachusetts.

The country witnessed a sharp decline in bald eagles from 1917-1952 due to habitat loss and man’s deliberate killing of what has, ironically, been the nation’s symbol since 1782.

The bald eagle population declined further with the use of DDT and, in 1967, the bald eagle was placed on the federal endangered species list until it was removed from the federal endangered and threatened species list in 2007; however, the bald eagle remains endangered in Massachusetts. Overdevelopment of the shoreline for houses and recreation is a major factor in the endangerment of bald eagles. The shoreline is its nesting habitat, and it continues to disappear.

I checked the Internet for information about bald eagles in Tri-Town and discovered the most recent (and only recorded) spotting was near some cranberry bogs in Marion back in October. I decided to call Mass Audubon when I got home to find out more about bald eagles in Mattapoisett.

“They have been making a comeback for a number of years now,” said Marj Rines, a naturalist with Mass Audubon. “They are doing extremely well.” She said the state confirmed 30 active nests in Massachusetts back in 2013 – a significant number after the species was totally eradicated from Massachusetts at one point.

From 1982 to 1988, in a restoration effort, 41 bald eagles were transplanted in the Quabbin Reservoir area of the state, effectively breeding and slowly increasing in numbers over time.

“The Buzzards Bay area is a great place for eagles,” said Rines. “I’m surprised there aren’t more [reported] sightings.” Perhaps no one is noticing their presence, or simply not reporting the data.

I reported my sighting that afternoon. If you visit the footbridge over the river beside the YMCA in Mattapoisett, which you should – and often – look around you. And if you spot the bald eagles soaring over Mattapoisett Harbor, after you recover from the purest pleasure of having witnessed their unmitigated magnificence, go to www.ebird.org, and click on “submit observations” so wildlife experts can track the progress of bald eagles.

By Jean Perry