Clearly, Mama and Papa think it's time for the second chick to move on. No doubt they are weary of doing umbrella duty through days of blistering sun and torrential rain.
They try sitting with the chick and bribing it with fish. They try example: Papa swoops and soars, Mama splashes in the river. They fly off in hopes that the chick will wonder where they've gone and come after them. Papa perches on the antenna of a neighbor's power boat and cheeps encouragement.
The baby's trying to fly, really it is. Like its sibling, it stands on the edge of the nest and flaps for long minutes. We get very excited, but the chick always ends by folding its wings and settling back down. Once or twice it's gotten a few inches of air, but it has grasped the nest so tightly that it has taken a few sticks with it.
Of course all activity in the house has ceased as we watch the birds. Jack has discovered that the best viewing place is from the couch on the sun-porch. I check the nest every few minutes. Once I thought I'd missed the great moment, for the nest looked empty, but an inspection with binoculars revealed a feathered head. Not yet!