New bald eagle claims nest

A domestic drama is told in images that were recorded this spring by amateur photographer Andy Slater at a spot that's been a sightseer's magnet for two decades -- the eagles' nest on the Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge near the intersection of Route 1 and the Charlotte Road.

In 1988, a pair of eagles established a nest in a box at the top of a post that had been placed there by refuge staff in hopes of attracting osprey. Instead, the eagles moved in, returning to the site every March, even though the quarters were tight and the structure a bit flimsy for birds of their size.

Refuge officials acquiesced and even fortified the framework over the years. The pair reproduced successfully most seasons, some years raising twin chicks. They attracted the interest of serious bird-watchers and rubbernecking motorists, and after a few years the refuge erected a special viewing ramp and platform across the road to accommodate sightseers. From the beginning, Andy Slater was fascinated with the parenting habits of the pair, observing and photographing them frequently. His collection of pictures documenting their life numbers in the hundreds.

This year began for the eagles no differently than most of the 19 before it. The weather on the first day of March was cold in Calais, with a mixture of rain, snow and sleet. When Slater checked for activity at the nest, he found the pair busily working, the female shoring up the structure with branches the male brought home, cementing them together with peat moss he dredged up from the frosty wetlands below. Two weeks later when Slater visited again, the pair was still hard at the arduous task of constructing a secure nursery.

In late March and early April, refuge staff observed the birds mating on several occasions. Everything was going as usual.

The shock came when Slater looked in on April 20. A new female was on the nest. It was unthinkable that the "old mom," as Slater refers to the female he had observed so long, would tolerate a rival anywhere in her territory, let alone brazenly perched on her nest. The only explanation, he knew, was that old mom was dead. Trying to take her place was a younger, smaller bird with a much shorter beak, still a hint of adolescent plumage on her neck. Slater thought, "She's got some attitude C sitting in another eagle's living room!"

"I suspect this bird has claimed this nest by knocking off the king of the hill," Slater says. "For years, I have seen the hill heavily defended." Refuge biologist Maurry Mills says the female, whose age he estimates at 25-30 years, an average eagle life span, may just have come to a natural end.

As April wore on, Slater continued to observe the young female in the vicinity of the nest. At times, he spotted the male flying overhead, keeping his distance. But now, the season was over, and there would be no eagle chicks in the nest this year.

On May 7, the male was on the nest. In front of him, Slater saw the young female, perched on a corner post. Wary? Ready to take off in an instant if threatened? "The male is sort of warming up to the new female," he thinks. There has been no known contact between them, and none is expected this year, but next year?

Slater suspects she may be five or six years old. The male, though advancing in years, is strong and smart, he says. One time, refuge personnel dragged a moose carcass near to the nesting area. The male wanted to protect the kill for his family from a group of young eagles that coveted it. Instead of fighting them off, Slater saw him fly again and again to the lake, catch a fish and drop it near them to feed on so they would leave his venison alone.

Perhaps there's new life to come in the old homestead yet.