Common yellowthroat.
Paleontologists are now saying that many—if not most—dinosaurs had feathers. Read a Wired news article yesterday about an amazing fossil found in Germany that preserves evidence that the 150-million-year-old critter sported a “filamentous body covering,” suggesting that feathers go a lot farther back than we though. What I wonder is if the Jurassic air was full of songs and calls and trumpets and cries. A thrill to contemplate.
Savannah sparrow.
On our Beech Hill hike this cloudy, foggy, cool Independence Day, Jack and I encountered a little scattering of gray feathers on a field-edge trail near the summit. Who knows what bird it was—waxwing, mourning dove, catbird fledgling?—or what raptor (I assume it was a raptor) dined on its fresh carcass in a drama that’s been happening for hundreds of millions of years.
We didn’t head out until late and walked the hill alone, other than a diverse collection of bird life. Noteworthy today was the Nashville warbler I heard singing down the eastern slope. Also heard the rose-breasted grosbeak and black-throated green warbler again. Saw a redstart near where the male had displayed tail-fanning behavior a couple days ago—so maybe I spoke too soon about its brood leaving the nest. Unless, of course, they all wandered back to the familiar bush. Temporarily.
Behind and beyond the redstart bush, interestingly, I watched a red-eyed vireo flitting back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, all the while delivering its alarm call of quay! Was this for our benefit? I suppose it’s possible—but that bird was going crazy, like some antic, feathered pendulum.
On the barrens, wood lilies have sprung up out of nowhere, and blueberries are swiftly ripening. Dog and I didn’t pick any today, although we both were tempted. In another “spoke too soon” moment, I heard (then saw) a Savannah sparrow singing from the roof of Beech nut.
Blueberries.
No phoebes, though. And here at home, I haven’t heard the song of a house finch for a couple days now—after having heard one daily for months. All the feathered critters are out rambling, seems like.
Despite some pretty thick fog, some folks are out fireworkin’ tonight. The big annual Thomaston show, though, has been postponed.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:45 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo
2. Ovenbird *
3. Chestnut-sided warbler
4. American crow*
5. Veery (v)
6. Eastern towhee
7. Common yellowthroat
8. Gray catbird*
9. American redstart*
10. Mourning dove*
11. American goldfinch* (v)
12. Yellow warbler (v)
13. Song sparrow* (v)
14. Black-capped chickadee (v)
15. Laughing gull (v)
16. Hermit thrush (v)
17. Black-throated green warbler (v)
18. Rose-breasted grosbeak (v)
19. Savannah sparrow
20. Nashville warbler (v)
21. Cedar waxwing
22. White-breasted nuthatch (v)
23. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
Elsewhere
24. Northern cardinal (v)
25. Herring gull
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, laughing gull, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, yellow warbler
