Lately, my early morning meditations have been accompanied by the honking of migrating Canada Geese. This is the time of year when our winter goose visitors leave to go north to build nests and have babies in northern Canada. And it’s the time when the geese that have wintered in places south of us fly through or stop here for a rest before moving on.

It’s always a bittersweet time for me that doesn’t really have anything to do with the immutable march of time, I’m sure. I’ll miss the geese. I’ll miss seeing them in the fields. I’ll miss hearing them at the refuge, which will suddenly become a silent place at sunset instead of a cacophonous riot of honks.

It’s estimated that half a million Canada Geese winter in the Chesapeake Bay region. And they make a lot of noise while they’re here and when they leave.

Starting in late February, I imagine I can sense an anticipation among the geese. They become louder, and it almost sounds to me like they’re excited, maybe making plans for their big trip (if I can risk a little anthropomorphizing). And then one day, they start to leave.

Geese mostly migrate at night. There are a few reasons for this. First, flying is easier because several hours after sunset, the earth cools, and thermals disappear. Thermals are columns of air that rise from the ground or water. They form wherever the air is a few degrees warmer than the air next to it. Raptors (hawks, eagles, falcons) and vultures love thermals, and use them to soar. But geese don’t soar, and flying through thermals takes extra energy, so it’s easier to fly when there are no thermals. Second, it’s cooler to fly at night, especially with all the wing flapping geese do. Third, the raptors that consider geese a tasty meal are diurnal, so flying at night is safer.

Even though I hate to see them leave, I love to see and hear the large Vs heading due north, way up high. The V shape is aerodynamically efficient. You can’t tell from the ground, but the lead goose is actually the lowest bird. Each goose is slightly higher than the one just in front of it, which means that each bird benefits from the turbulence created by the goose in front of it. So all the birds except the lead goose expend less effort to fly. The V shape also creates visibility to ensure that all individuals are aware of what’s going on. Experienced geese take turns leading the Vs.

Watch and listen:

At the same time that the geese start to leave, the lookout for the early Ospreys starts. The geese move out, and the ospreys, who have spent the winter in Florida and points south, move in. The arrival of the ospreys is a happy event — spring is near, and these birds give a person lots to watch.

This year, the first osprey reported in Maryland to eBird (an online database of bird observations) was on February 23 in Anne Arundel County, a record by two days. Other early sightings:

• On February 26, in Queen Anne’s County on one of the signage nest sites on Rte. 50
• On February 27, in Worcester County perched on the bridge to Assateague Island
• On March 3 flying around Rock Hall harbor in Kent County
• On March 7 at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge in Dorchester County

Their arrival gets earlier and earlier. Twenty years ago, my husband and I were told by a park ranger to watch for the first ospreys on March 17!

The ospreys come here to nest and have babies. Of the 100,000 ospreys worldwide, 10,000 breeding pairs (so, 20,000 birds) can be found in the Chesapeake Bay region. They constitute the largest concentration of nesting ospreys anywhere.

Year after year, they return to the same nesting site. The males generally come first to claim the nest and protect it from interlopers; every year there are first-time nesters (four-year-old birds) who need to find a place to set up housekeeping, and are happy to find a nesting platform not already taken.

The females follow a week or so later. Osprey pairs usually mate for many years, often for life. Even so, males will do courtship sky dances — aerial displays — to attract their mate and cement the relationship.

It’s fun to watch them build their nest, flying around with large and sometimes very unwieldy sticks. The younger couples sometimes don’t know quite what to do the first few years. We had a pair on the water tower across the street some years ago, and they couldn’t get past the nest building part — they kept bringing sticks all summer long, and ended up with a nest that had to be seven feet tall! They had no babies that year, but they’ve since had success.

Here is an osprey cam on Kent Island. This nest is not yet occupied, but you might want to keep checking:

Ospreys lay their eggs in April or May, and they hatch in 35 to 40 days. The young birds will leave the nest seven or eight weeks later, but continue to hang around for another month or so, looking for a handout. During this time, they refine their own fishing skills.

Sometimes called fish hawks, ospreys are noted for their unique fishing style. They hunt by cruising high above the water looking for a meal. When they see a tasty morsel, they dive head-first, then swing their legs forward — talons spread — and pluck the fish from the water. Their curved talons have specialized gripping pads that help them hang on to even large fish. Then they fly away with their meal, turning the fish headfirst to ease wind resistance.

Have a watch: (not filmed on the Eastern Shore, but great footage)

Of all the signs of spring, the movement of these birds is my favorite. It starts slowly, but then, one day, the switch-over is complete: the geese are gone and the ospreys are back. We’re lucky to have these special early spring harbingers on the Eastern Shore.