The cold rains finally eased enough this afternoon to permit a camera-laden trek to the Henne Preserve to check on the status of the Osprey, who, I had it on good authority, refurbished their old nest on the huge dead oak and seem to be getting down to reproductive business. That indeed appears to be the case, and the fish hawk couple has taken the loss of last year's nest, the one they usurped from the Great Blue Herons and fell down in the late summer, in stride. While I watched the raptors go about their work, I noticed a furtive bird sneaking its way through the shrubs. I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it looked too large for a warbler and from what little I could see through the lens, the beak said "vireo" to me. Then, there was that weird, pale eye. Back home, I got out the books and visited the various birding websites to come up with an ID. After quite a bit of study, I settled on a suspect: a juvenile White-eyed Vireo. The field marks all checked out, as did its behavior—traveling low, in contrast to more typical Vireo vexation, which is to say, always remaining just out of sight in the top of the tree canopy. My surprise was that the bird, which had to have been born last year, was still in its kid garb. Perhaps it simply wasn't ready to grow up and don adult clothes.