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6 September 2010
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Rockport, Maine, USA
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Posts Tagged ‘Northern cardinal’
Saturday, September 4th, 2010
 Osprey. I awoke last night to the sound of a gentle rain. And maybe a bit of breeze. The rain was pattering on the roof beyond my bedroom window. Knowing it was raining, and that the rain represented the fringeds of Hurricane Earl, I let myself sleep in some, and when I finally rose, there was still a bit of drizzle falling. Got dressed, made breakfast. Then the rain ended, and the sky began to clear. So despite it being a college football day, Jack and I headed for Beech Hill.
 Gray catbird. Whereas the overcast persisted for about five or ten minutes, it lifted quickly and I looked up to see a clear division in the sky: blue sky to the southeast, clouds to the northwest. Very cut-and-dried. For such a big, well-delineated storm, Earl turned out to be kind of a dud.
But when the sun came out, it got humid right away. Not overly much rain fell, but enough to evaporate in the sun’s brilliance. Not many birds calling, though I did catch sight of small silent songbirds by using the chickadee trick.
Speaking of the chickadee trick—I don’t know if it’s the chickadees that are luring the other songbirds along with them, perhaps because of their love of vocalization, or if perhaps all the little passerines are hanging out together anyway, and it’s just the chickadees that are so vocal. Whatever the case, the first little gang of black-caps came with about a half-dozen silent red-eyed vireos. (For the record, I heard no vireos call this morning.)
 Common yellowthroat. Coming up the last rise, Jack and I heard human voices at the summit. Sure enough, a grandmother and her two grandsons were there already—so soon after a hurricane—and the older grandson was flying a kite in the stout westerly post-hurricane breeze. This sort of put a damper on any bird sightings at the summit, but we headed over and heard blue jays and a goldfinch and saw an osprey. Coming up the trail was a young couple with two little boys. And a half dozen young adults had just arrived at the Beech Hill Road side.
By then I’d counted only twelve bird species, whereas it occurred to me that I’d met up with thirteen individual humans.
No more additional until we headed down again into lower wooded trail, when I heard more chickadees—and again saw other birds flitting up there in the canopy along with them. And I heard the unmistakable musical call of a brown creeper (though I never saw the bird) and I spotted a couple of young chestnut-sided warbler.
That was about it. Nice to hear brown creepers, though—they’ve got a unique song.
 Split sky. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 10:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American crow (voice)
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. Common yellowthroat
4. Gray catbird
5. Red-eyed vireo
6. White-throated sparrow
7. Cedar waxwing
8. Song sparrow (voice)
9. Osprey
10. Eastern towhee (voice)
11. Blue jay (voice)
12. American goldfinch (voice)
13. Brown creeper (voice)
14. Chestnut-sided warbler
Elsewhere
15. Herring gull
16. Northern cardinal
 Waxwing moon.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, brown creeper, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, gray catbird, herring gull, Northern cardinal, osprey, red-eyed vireo, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow
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Friday, September 3rd, 2010
 Veery. Ack! Slept late. Up and dressed in a hurry, to Beech Hill by 7:45 a.m. Hazy sun, warm and muggy still, with just a taste of strangeness in the breeze—strangeness, perhaps, because Hurricane Earl is on the way? Who knows. But chickadees were chatting and chittering in the distance, so I had hopes of seeing a few silent bird species chowing down before the storm. Because they must know change is coming. If only fall migration.
 Chestnut-sided warbler (juvenile). After our first few hundred paces, Jack’s and mine, we’d counted some typical species, then stopped in a sunny part of the trail when I heard an unfamiliar chip! call from the undergrowth. I never did see the source of the chip!, but I did spot a young chestnut-sided warbler that zipped up into a tree in front of us. They sure are fast flyers—or sure can be.
Soon after, I heard another chip! This one sounded sort of like a white-throat, but a little different. We stopped again, and again another bird flitted silently up near us—a red-eyed vireo this time, and a great photo-op, but I passed it up, silly me. Instead, I got a ghostly shot of what was sure enough a white-throated sparrow peeping at us from beyond a thicket of old summer leaves.
 Northern harrier. Entering the open fields, I scanned the distance, as I always do. A golden haze hung in the east over the bay. And there not far off, a marsh hawk—a northern harrier—dipped and veered over a grassy slope, its white rump flashing.
Before long, reaching the summit, I was watching another hawk—a sparrow hawk, a kestrel—flapping up and over Beech Nut. It soon disappeared, but then looking out to sea again, again I spotted the harrier (or another one) dipping and hovering over the same far eastern field.
 White-throated sparrow. Although most birds I listed today were silent, toward Beech Hill Road I heard the distinctive alarm notes of a rose-breasted grosbeak and a northern cardinal. Marauding bands of chickadees were sweeping through that area also—but nothing else too interesting showed up. In fact, it took until we’d already crested the summit again and plunged into the trees for the next bird to pop up. Also silent. Flitted up into a twig very near the trail. We froze, it froze. At first I thought it an ovenbird, but I quickly saw it was a thrush. Specifically, a veery. I bet we watched each other for a good three minutes, if not more.
Nothing but a single vireo down the lower wooded trail—quite the contrast to yesterday—until we made the turn onto the last leg before the parking lot. I thought I caught sight of another silent, mouse-like bird jumping off the trail and into the brush. We stopped. Waited. A small movement. Sure enough, a quiet little bird. An ovenbird, ironically. When it moved, it seemed so subtle as hardly to influence the universe at all.
But I got a ghostly photo.
 Ovenbird. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. Common yellowthroat
3. Gray catbird
4. Black-billed cuckoo (voice)
5. Eastern towhee (voice)
6. Blue jay (voice)
7. American robin (voice)
8. Chestnut-sided warbler
9. Cedar waxwing
10. White-throated sparrow
11. Red-eyed vireo
12. Northern harrier
13. Song sparrow
14. Kestrel
15. American crow (voice)
16. American goldfinch (voice)
17. Common raven (voice)
18. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
19. Northern cardinal (voice)
20. Mourning dove
21. Veery
22. Ovenbird
Elsewhere
23. Herring gull
24. Tufted titmouse
25. Rock pigeon
 The bay.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-billed cuckoo, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, gray catbird, herring gull, kestrel, mourning dove, Northern cardinal, Northern harrier, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-throated sparrow
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Wednesday, September 1st, 2010
 Broad-winged hawk (juvenile). If yesterday was hot, today might’ve even been hotter. Aw, not all that hot, really, for a guy who grew up in Texas—not 90 degrees, I don’t think. But probably mid- to upper-80s (F). In fact, before 7 a.m., as Jack and I were climbing the green, wooded hillside this first day of September, the air must’ve been at least room temperature. Maybe even 75 or so.
 Yellow-rumped warbler. Not too many birds occurred right away. They were silent, hunkered down out of the heat, hiding out. I heard the usual summer residents—catbird and yellowthroat seem always near each other—including a brief tut-tut of a robin. (They’re extremely quiet up there these days.) More young yellow-rumps chipping about in the foliage, both the young hardwoods coming up and the grove of spruces up top. And flickers—in fact, as we came up over the summit and descended the open trail, there appeared up ahead a family of at least five flickers (foraging along the trail with a single mourning dove).
They took flight as we approached, the flickers—one by one, in undulating flight, their white rumps flashing, emitting their wicka-wicka-wicka calls. I have to say I rather like flickers. I like the little red heart tattoo they wear on the backs of their necks.
Steamy out in the bay. Owls head jutted out into the bay amid a cloud of haze.
Saw both phoebes and alder flycatchers perched in the tips of trees. Their chip notes are similar, those two.
 Common yellowthroat. On our return trip—Jack panting quickly, my T-shirt soaked with sweat—we eagerly dove into the shady wooded section. I’d counted eighteen birds by then and didn’t expect but maybe a couple more. But the lower wooded trail surprised: first a pewee’s lazy, poignant, dying-summertime call; then the exaggeratedly elongated call of a pileated woodpecker just beyond sight through the trees; then a black-and-white warbler’s somewhat abbreviated call lower down; and finally, as we were only a couple hundred yards from the parking lot, the sudden appearance of a young broad-winged hawk.
A broadwing is a wonderful thing. This young bird checked us out, Jack and me, then flapped up to a more distant branch and observed us head on (alas, my auto-focus betrayed me). Finally, it flapped silently out of sight. I found myself wondering if this bird is the reason for the couple piles of remnant feathers I’ve seen the past week or so along the wooded trails.
 Northern flicker. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American goldfinch
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. Cedar waxwing
4. Gray catbird
5. Common yellowthroat
6. American robin (voice)
7. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
8. Yellow-rumped warbler
9. Song sparrow
10. Eastern towhee (voice)
11. White-throated sparrow
12. Mourning dove
13. Eastern phoebe
14. Alder flycatcher
15. Blue jay (voice)
16. Savannah sparrow
17. Northern flicker
18. American crow (voice)
19. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
20. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
21. Black-and-white warbler (voice)
22. Broad-winged hawk
Elsewhere
23. House sparrow
24. Northern cardinal
25. Herring gull
26. European starling
 Red squirrel.
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, broad-winged hawk, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, Eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, European starling, gray catbird, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, Northern cardinal, northern flicker, pileated woodpecker, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler
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Monday, August 30th, 2010
 Black-throated blue warbler. Jack and I got to Beech Hill about 7 this morning, and already the temperature had risen well into the 70s (F). The sun blazed from the eastern sky, warming the forested side of the hill—which, of course, is where we begin our hike each morning.
 Blue jay. Little frogs calling in the periphery. The usual common species as we ascended. Coming around the little stand of popple where chestnut-sideds sing in spring, I suddenly heard the clear four- or five-note call of a redstart. Then a sharp chip from above: a warbler there, a black-throated blue. It flitted close—but directly above us, where it proceeded to pick a spider out of its web up there. It chipped, eyed us below, robbed the web of whatever morsel the spider had wrapped up. Just as I imagined that if this bird defecated, it’d come pretty close to my head—it pooped. The poop landed on a berry leaf about a foot away.
Soon after, a couple of ruffed grouse rose loudly at our approach through thick undergrowth.
At the summit, a breeze whispered through the boughs of the spruces. I heard sparrows and a single yellow-rump. That’s all.
 Common yellowthroat (female). Coming down the open trail, I heard jays and crows. At the hardwood thickets along Beech Hill Road, a family of jays pecked at acorns in the shadows. A titmouse carried some morsel or other. Another titmouse hung around nearby. Yellowthroats and catbirds sent out their subtle alarm calls and made very brief, shady appearances. From somewhere, a cicada sang.
Sweat soaked my T-shirt as we climbed back up and over. A solitary savannah sparrow flitted down the open slope—a migrating bird, I figure. And in the lower wooded trail, I heard only chickadees, nuthatches, a wood-pewee, and a single vireo.
* * *
This afternoon, while out cycling in the summery heat, I saw a good-sized flock of starlings circling above the commercial strip of Route 1. The sighting gave me a premonition of fall.
 Tufted titmouse. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
4. Common yellowthroat
5. Hairy woodpecker
6. American redstart (voice)
7. Black-throated blue warbler
8. American robin (voice)
9. Ruffed grouse (flushed)
10. Cedar waxwing
11. American goldfinch
12. White-throated sparrow
13. Song sparrow (voice)
14. Yellow-rumped warbler
15. Northern flicker (voice)
16. American crow (voice)
17. Blue jay
18. Mourning dove
19. Gray catbird
20. Tufted titmouse
21. Savannah sparrow
22. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
Elsewhere
22. Herring gull
23. Osprey
24. House sparrow
25. Northern cardinal
26. European starling
 Cedar waxwing.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-capped chickadee, black-throated blue warbler, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, eastern wood-pewee, European starling, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, Northern cardinal, northern flicker, osprey, red-eyed vireo, ruffed grouse, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler
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Wednesday, August 25th, 2010
 Savannah sparrow. Overcast and breezy this early morning—much like the day before yesterday, except somehow chillier, somehow damper, somehow nearer to fall. Jack and I got to the hill a little late, as we have the past few days, but we found ourselves alone. Not many birds calling along the wooded trails. Widely intermittent bird calls. And most of them mere chip notes.
 Black-capped chickadee. Then, about two-thirds of the way along the upper wooded trail I heard the call of a veery. Veeries as a nesting species are not at all uncommon on Beech Hill. They’re vocal in spring, their fountainy songs lending a lovely, ethereal backdrop to the blooming woodland. But once they’ve nested, they go suddenly silent. Today’s bird was the first I’d heard in weeks. Peering into the greenery, I saw it. Lovely.
Crickets sang. The wind rushed through the boughs of trees. Rain was forecast for later in day.
No birds at all in the summit spruces, oddly. But I did hear robins at several points on the hill. That made two thrushes today. And there were plenty of sparrows—white-throateds, songs, and savannahs.
Wait, savannahs?
I hadn’t seen a savannah sparrow in three days, an observation that had me convinced they’d moved on to some great savannah sparrow staging area, from which they’d migrate south in a week or two or three. But today, as Jack and I came around the first curve in the open trail, one flew swiftly up ahead of us low to the ground, as is their habit. Then another sent it’s staccato chip note our way from behind a bush. Then it and one or two others flitted up the hill and dipped quickly into clumps of grass. Perhaps a family of stragglers? Perhaps birds traveling from some other hill up north?
As it happens, the savannahs were the last species I saw until we’d nearly returned to the Rockville Street trailhead when, passing through the brambles near the vernal pool, I heard familiar warbler-style chipping from a blackberry thicket: a family of chestnut-sideds stocking up on grub.
The rain came, sure enough. And it was a big one, an extended downpour—in fact, the hardest rain I can remember since last year.
 Beech Nut. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Cedar waxwing (voice)
2. Blue jay (voice)
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. Gray catbird
5. American crow (voice)
6. Veery
7. American robin (voice)
8. White-throated sparrow
9. Song sparrow (voice)
10. American goldfinch (voice)
11. Common yellowthroat
12. Eastern towhee
13. Savannah sparrow
14. Chestnut-sided warbler
Elsewhere
15. Northern cardinal
16. Herring gull
17. House sparrow
18. Rock pigeon
 Blackberries.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-capped chickadeeg, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, herring gull, house sparrow, Northern cardinal, ray catbird, rock pigeon, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, veery, white-throated sparrow
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| Bird Report is an intermittent record of what's outside my window in Rockport, Maine, USA (44°08'N latitude, 69°06'W longitude), and vicinity. —Brian Willson |
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