The grim weather continues, and, surprise, surprise, there's more rain and chill in the forecast. This seems to be good news in terms of liberating Gypsy-Moth-killing fungi—I don't have reports from actual scientists, but I think I'm seeing far fewer caterpillars than last year—but it's not exactly a beautiful way to wrap up May. Even so, I hazarded a walk in the late, and, so far, dry afternoon. to the Henne Preserve. I was overdue for checking the Osprey nest, which, I suspected, just might be holding chicks. Instead, what the venerable potential nursery was holding was, well, nothing. Not only was there no sign of baby Fish Hawks poking their wobbly heads above the sticks to survey the world they'd soon be learning to master, but their potential parents were nowhere to be seen either. Their absence was as chilling as the temperature. I know that, on occasion, both adults will be off fishing, or, at least, getting some exercise, but in this kind of untoward weather, I'd have been surprised to see neither bird brooding eggs or young and vulnerable offspring. A friend of mine who'd watched the nest a couple of days ago had borne witness to the same emptiness, and the sight gave me an equally empty feeling—a depressing "deja vu all over again." The Osprey had suffered a similar nest failure a couple of years ago, and, sadly, it looked like history was repeating itself here.