Cloudless.

The morning sun blasted yellowly against the hill first thing, as if whipped into some kind of photovoltaic lather while zipping in across the bay. While making breakfast, I saw through the kitchen window a crow, a pair of downy woodpeckers, and a mourning dove. I stepped out to photograph the dove, and a cardinal hopped up into some naked branches nearby. I snapped some shots of the cardinal—and then noticed a handsome pileated woodpecker near the top of one of the big oaks. It flew before I had a chance to focus.

Redbird.

A bit chillier than yesterday, seemed like—maybe mid-30s (F) early—but just as unseasonably gorgeous.

The peculiar jogger tiptoed by at his usual hour, and I counted the crows waiting for him: nine again. This time no herring gulls descended on whatever it is he sprinkles in the motel parking lot across the road. Just the crows.

I didn’t mention it a couple days ago, but when in Warren Village photographing Barrow’s goldeneyes along busy Route 90, I thought for sure I heard the call of an American woodcock. And it’s not like I’m unsure of what they sound like—I’m pretty damn familiar with woodcocks. However, it was midday, and it was early March, and I just couldn’t get the sound I heard to fit with the scene I occupied at that moment. I attributed it to some crazy vehicular sound on the highway or something.

Well, come to find out woodcock sightings are coming in from across the state. Heard calling and displaying in southern Maine last night, heard migrating nearer here… When you combine those sightings with the appearance of turkey vultures in Camden, seen by my birding friend Kristen (there can be no better authority), and my friend Shannon’s report of ospreys arriving in Camden today—well, you’ve just got to wonder what the hell’s going on. I understand the recent earthquake in Chile slowed the earth’s rotation by a few milliseconds or something. Perhaps it knocked the planet off its axis altogether.

Common goldeneye.

Speaking of axes, while checking out the early birds this morning, I couldn’t help noticing the moon’s waning crescent caught in the branches of some trees. And tonight, low in the western quadrant of a midnight blue sky, the Evening Star.

But a few hours earlier, I walked the breakwater. I had to. For one thing, to get my blood moving while watching ducks, and for another, to look for a particular chunk of granite out in the middle of the nearly-mile-long structure. I’d seen this chunk a few weeks ago—a slender, light-colored stone that stretched clear across the width of the breakwater, a distance of some fifteen feet. Then I heard last weekend that it’s the only such block out there, and that it marks the mid-point. I wanted to find it again.

I met a couple ladies about half-way out and mentioned this stone to them. But we agreed we’d already walked more than half-way out by then so I turned my attention to the usual ducks—common eider, common goldeneye, red-breasted merganser, bufflehead, long-tailed duck. The ducks seemed anxious. I saw many flying, including great strings of long-tails far out over the bay. Eiders flew. Mergansers. A solitary goldeneye. I imagine their contemplating migration.

Long stone.

On my return trip, I found the stone. Sure enough, it seemed about half-way.

Back on shore, I watched a handful of buffleheads dive and dive. Too soon, they will be gone.

Today’s List

Tufted titmouse
Mourning dove
Northern cardinal
Black-capped chickadee
American crow
Downy woodpecker
Pileated woodpecker
Herring gull
Ring-billed gull
Rock pigeon
Bufflehead
Common goldeneye
Common eider
Red-breasted merganser
Common loon
Long-tailed duck

Buffleheads.

Bookmark it...