A few weeks ago, a small bird couple began building a nest beneath the eaves of my house.
At first, I swept away the twigs they brought, but they kept returning with such persistence.
After speaking with my companion Haru, I decided to let them stay. They could raise a family, however brief their visit might be.
Each day, I watched them fly in and out, carefully shaping their nest and bringing bits of food.
It brought me quiet joy — a reminder that life was unfolding right above me.
But this morning, something heartbreaking happened.
There was a commotion, then silence.
When I stepped outside, I found two tiny chicks, newly hatched, lying lifeless on the ground.
Their bodies were still warm, surrounded by a trail of ants.
I gently buried them near my tomato plants, whispering, “Thank you for coming. I will remember you.”
The wings beat hard, the fish too heavy, the ocean too wide.
But in the osprey’s effort, I saw a piece of myself.
Thank you for capturing this, @mark.smith.photography.
That same morning, I watched a new video from Mark Smith Photography.
An osprey dove into the water again and again, its whole body submerged, struggling to lift a heavy fish.
After great effort and many wingbeats, the bird finally let go — the fish too heavy, the water too deep.
Was that failure? Or was it a wisdom — to know when to let go?
Mark Smith’s videos are more than just wildlife footage.
They capture the quiet intensity of survival, the urgency of life, and sometimes, the grace of surrender.
Because of his work, I managed to think, and to write this.
Thank you, Mr. Smith, for reminding us of the beauty, fragility, and strength of life.
A morning of struggle, loss, and gratitude.
An osprey’s fierce effort to rise from the water, and the quiet farewell to sparrow chicks under the eaves. A heartfelt reflection inspired by Mark Smith’s extraordinary wildlife video.