Every spring hope and life begin anew. This eternal cycle has special meaning for me, perhaps because I have such an interest in the natural world and in wildlife.

By observing birds in their habitats, I’ve discovered where a few nest from year to year. It’s always exciting to discover former tenants (I actually can’t be certain if they are the same birds or not, but in this case it’s possible) returning to their breeding territories. A few years ago I had the pleasure of observing a pair of merlins raise a family in a small, partially-cleared section of the University Forest.

The scientific literature on the nest site fidelity of merlins states they rarely use the same nest from one year to the next; however, other raptors, such as ospreys and eagles, reuse nests indefinitely if nesting attempts continue to be successful. So, too, do peregrine falcons. While they dispense with nesting material altogether, they return to the same cliff face, and perhaps the same ledge, every year to raise their broods.

Merlins do not build their own nests but use the old, abandoned nests of corvids (crows, ravens, and relatives) or of other raptors. The nest site in the University Forest was used for three consecutive years (maybe longer prior to my discovering it) by a pair of merlins. It may not have been the same pair, but I like to think it was.

Last year was the first time, I think, in which I had failed to discover any merlins in the vicinity. The nest they had used for three years had always looked pretty flimsy, and it had finally blown down. I was saddened to think the birds would not return again. It was all the more rewarding, then, to hear their familiar high-pitched vocalizations one evening. I spotted the female sitting in a birch tree; she was the one that had been calling. Now I just need to discover if she is actually making a nesting attempt and where this year’s nest is.

It didn’t take me long to discover the nest of another pair of merlins in Baxter State Park. I’d observed them for the last two years at this particular site, but never was able to see where they had chosen to nest. This year I was sure I had witnessed the courtship displays of these small raptors: the power flight of the male as well as prominent tail-fanning while perched by both the male and female. This activity was accompanied by loud vocalizations by both, but mostly it was the female who did most of the calling.

Soon after one of these noisy bouts, the female took off a short distance away but continued to call from a stationary position. I went to investigate and spotted a large, bulky stick nest in a substantial white pine. Her voice was coming directly from within the nest, which must have been deep; I couldn’t see her at all.

If the pair is successful, the eggs will hatch after approximately 30 days of incubation; the young will leave the nest about a month later. They’ll remain with their parents for up to another month, and, shortly thereafter, begin their migration south. Perhaps they or their parents will return to this site again, beginning the cycle anew.

NEWS bird columnist Chris Corio can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net