Alder flycatcher.
It was only a matter of time.
Another rainy weekend morning, and I didn’t feel like hiking in the rain. So we puttered around, Jack and I, and didn’t head for Beech Hill until about 3:30 this afternoon. The rain had let up, and I even had hopes of the sun emerging. But the time of day, the time of year, and the lowery weather all combined to make this quite a different kind of day.
American robin.
For the first few hundred yards, I saw no birds at all and heard only a solitary red-eyed vireo. By the time we’d reached the summit, I’d heard or seen only twelve species—including a herring gull flapping west along the little valley to the south of the hill.
Then the fog began to roll in. And I began to wonder if I’d be able to list even twenty species. I worried about the five sparrows.
In the end, a couple streaks got broken—including the sparrow one. I did manage to hear (and see) a white-throat coming up the wooded trail, and a song sparrow was singing near the summit. But I saw nor heard any savannahs at all during the whole trip up and over and down. Crazy. And I didn’t hear a chippy for the first time in weeks. Or a field sparrow. I figured I’d end up with just the two—but coming back up over the hill, a field sparrow sang suddenly from the southern slope. And then I saw a pair of savannahs. Never a sign of a chippy, though.
Song sparrow.
And no chestnut-sided warblers! That’s wild. I’m pretty sure the chestnut-sided is the most abundant bird on Beech Hill.
And here’s a switch: no wood-pewee coming back down the lower wooded trail today, but two hermit thrushes. That species brought me to nineteen. And so I hoped maybe I’d hear a nuthatch or see a turkey—or even an ovenbird. And that’d take me to an even twenty.
Nope. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Only the startlingly loud snort from a healthy-looking whitetail that bounded gracefully down the forested hill as dog and I stood agape and watched.
We’d gotten within a hundred yards of the parking lot, Jack and I. I’d wholly accepted the sad total of nineteen birds. And then a black-throated green warbler sang, loudly, from high in a tree just to our right. Whew. And no sooner had that happened than I heard the echo of a pileated woodpecker’s call coming from somewhere to the east.
Honestly, I was ready to report a total of nineteen. But, instead, I’m reporting twenty-one.
Savannah sparrow.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:30 p.m., I walked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. American crow (voice)
3. Common yellowthroat (voice)
4. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
5. American goldfinch (voice)
6. American robin
7. Eastern towhee
8. White-throated sparrow
9. Cedar waxwing (voice)
10. Alder flycatcher
11. Song sparrow
12. Herring gull
13. Veery (voice)
14. Barn swallow
15. Blue jay (voice)
16. Gray catbird (voice)
17. Field sparrow (voice)
18. Savannah sparrow
19. Hermit thrush (voice)
20. Black-throated green warbler (voice)
21. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
Elsewhere
22. Northern cardinal
Beech Nut.
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, barn swallow, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, field sparrow, gray catbird, hermit thrush, pileated woodpecker, red-eyed vireo, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, veery, white-throated sparrow
