|
|
 |
|
9 September 2010
|
Rockport, Maine, USA
|
|
Posts Tagged ‘rock pigeon’
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
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
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
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Wednesday, August 11th, 2010
 Orb-weaver's web, lower wooded trail. The morning dawned cool, with dry air but a damp understory. The trailhead seemed especially inviting. Green and gold, with angular morning sunlight and deep shadow. Not a lot of deerflies. Kind of quiet, though, in the wake of last night’s thunderstorms.
In fact, I heard only a handful of birds actually singing: red-eyed vireo, cedar waxwing, black-capped chickadee, yellow warbler, common yellowthroat. Pretty sure that was it. The rest, I had to ID from their chip notes—or actually spot them flitting around in the vegetation or open air.
But the trail seemed lush and summery and miraculous. How lucky are we to live on this tilted water planet?
 Upper wooded trail. Then again, it wasn’t an especially photo-friendly day. First I spotted a hairy woodpecker up a tree maybe twenty feet away. But it kept just out of view, and the light was dim anyway. Not a great photo. Then came a sudden phoebe—only about twelve feet distant, and on a bare limb, and in a patch of sun. By the time I’d focused it had flown. Then a kingbird, of all things, on a snag right out in the open. Again, it flew just as I was ready to release the digital shutter.
That was interesting, actually: it was only the second eastern kingbird I’ve seen on the hill all year, and it was hunting in the open fields to the east of the summit. As it flew, I trained my fieldglasses on it—and it had a hummingbird in pursuit, not a foot or two away.
At the summit, a red-breasted nuthatch was beeping around in the spruces. Down at the Beech Hill Road parking lot, jays were flitting around—oddly very silent.
Coming back down the lower wooded trail, our feet stepped over miniature dams and bars made of twigs and leaves and acorns—evidence of last night’s storm runoff. I heard no singing hermit thrush, as I usual have lately. No wood-pewee. At one point I did ask Jack to wait, and we paused in the cool air, and crickets sang, and a cicada. And there above us on an oak limb was another phoebe, a woodland bird. I watched it catch a few flies. It didn’t call at all, just flitted around silently.
All in all, a cool, pleasant, silent sort of morning.
 Hairy woodpecker. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Cedar waxwing
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. American goldfinch
5. American crow (voice)
6. Hairy woodpecker
7. Eastern towhee
8. Common yellowthroat
9. White-throated sparrow (voice)
10. Eastern phoebe
11. Eastern kingbird
12. Ruby-throated hummingbird
13. Song sparrow
14. Mourning dove
15. Red-breasted nuthatch
16. Savannah sparrow
17. Yellow warbler (voice)
18. Gray catbird
19. Blue jay
20. Yellow warbler (voice)
21. Northern flicker (voice)
Elsewhere
22. House sparrow
23. Herring gull
24. Northern cardinal
25. Rock pigeon
 Lower wooded trail.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, eastern kingbird, Eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, Northern cardinal, northern flicker, red-breasted nuthatch, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, ruby throated hummingbird, savannah saprrow, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010
 Northern flicker. To bed early, up late. Go figure. Suffice it to say Jack and I pulled into the Beech Hill parking lot at the ungodly quarter-hour of 7:15 a.m. An overcast day. The roads were wet—some rain had passed by—but the trail was dry enough.
 Common yellowthroat. The common birds made their presence known vocally. Until about half-way up, my actual visual sightings amounted to a single female yellowthroat chipping at me from within an apple tree. Thanks to the day’s dimness and the length of my lens, I shouldn’t have even bothered with a photo—but I figured I’d try a flash shot. The picture looked like it’d been taken by a paparazzo.
And then came a troubling distraction—evidence of a mountain biker. Since the little flurry of biking incidents a few weeks ago, the powers-that-be erected signs at all the trails’ access points: no bicycles allowed. These were the first tire tracks I’d seen since then. And I couldn’t help but seethe a little. I mean, either the cyclist was a kid who didn’t pay attention to rules, or he was an adult who didn’t pay attention to rules, or he was illiterate. Basically, the cyclist didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, his fun, the thrilling feeling of bounding and veering down a wooded trail. And I can even dig that, to a point. But the goal of a life isn’t simply to have as much fun as possible—is it? Or have I simply become an ignorant old fuddy-duddy?
Tire tracks and thoughts of the mountain biker who left them accompanied me along the upper wooded trail. A nagging, troubling distraction.
But then, about half-way up, coming into an open green copse, I heard the breath of wings and told Jack, “Wait.” And we stopped and watched the birds settle out.
Towhees, several. A couple chickadees. A small flock of waxwings above and behind us. Yellowthroats somewhere. And a solitary flicker in a small tree straight ahead. We stood there about five minutes—I, waiting for the flicker to emerge, Jack quietly eating grass—until I got a half-way decent photo. But I loved those five minutes. The close comfort of the overcast, the feel of standing quietly in the company of a dozen birds. Those few moments might actually have been the highlight of my day.
 Summit trail. Only nine species by the time I hit the summit fields, though, and then (finally) the first alder flycatcher. No phoebes. No chestnut-sideds. No chippy down by the gate. N0 cuckoo or titmouse or cardinal or hummingbird. No veery or black-and-white warbler. Most species must be concentrating on safely raising their young. And a mountain biker doesn’t give a damn about the rules.
Coming back up over the summit, I turned my binoculars to the bay and spotted a herring gull flapping nonchalantly along, north to south. I figured at least I’d make it to twenty species. Still no phoebe at the top, but I did hear the high-pitched tseet! of a white-throated sparrow. Then descending the lower wooded trail, there came the sharp alarm notes of ovenbirds (and I even got a visual). Nuthatches down there also, a little below.
And then, coming around through berry brambles fairly close to the trailhead, I heard a loud chip!—which I recognized at once. Sure enough, a female chestnut-sided warbler. Young nearby, no doubt. Species No. 23 for the day.
The chip! of the chestnut-sided got me thinking about how many chip notes I can positively identify. Quite a few by now, I’d say: chestnut-sided, yellowthroat, and yellow warblers; white-throated and song sparrow; cardinal and rose-breasted grosbeak. I can tell the peep! of an alder flycatcher from the similar note of a phoebe. And I can ID the subtle pip-pip of a ruby-throated hummingbird near the nest.
Not a lot of birds today, but plenty of things to think on.
 Wood frog. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American crow (voice)
2. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. Eastern towhee
5. Common yellowthroat
6. Gray catbird
7. Cedar waxwing
8. American robin (voice)
9. Northern flicker
10. Alder flycatcher (voice)
11. Savannah sparrow
12. Hermit thrush (voice)
13. Field sparrow (voice)
14. Blue jay (voice)
15. Yellow warbler (voice)
16. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
17. Song sparrow
18. Mourning dove (voice)
19. Herring gull
20. White-throated sparrow (voice)
21. Ovenbird
22. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
23. Chestnut-sided warbler
Elsewhere
24. House sparrow
25. Rock pigeon
26. Northern cardinal
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American robin, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, field sparrow, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, Northern cardinal, northern flicker, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Monday, August 2nd, 2010
 Veery. It was almost chilly this morning. Chilly and kind of foggy. I stayed up working until about 1 a.m. and had an appointment before 9, so I scrambled out of bed feeling both a groggy and in a hurry. Dog and I managed to reach the trailhead by 7 a.m.
 Common yellowthroat (female). A crow was waiting for us at the entrance. As we got out of the truck, a red-eyed vireo was singing, as is usual at this time of year. (How many thousands of individual notes and sequences must a vireo emit every day?) And the usual birds revealed themselves over the course of the first few hundred yards of our ascent—chickadee, goldfinch, towhee, robin. Then I heard a veery.
For the second straight day a veery has come out of hiding. Veeries are a common Beech Hill bird, but this is their quiet time of year. It surprised me how thrilled I felt to hear that disctinctive veeurr!
Better still, as we stopped to listen, the source of the call emerged not twenty feet away. A chipping yellowthroat also emerged, as did a silent, leery catbird. All guarding nests within about a twenty-foot radius. And it occurred to me that here were three species that are probably very familiar with each other—if not buddies. They like the same lush greenery. I’ve seen them all with caterpillars in their bills. Any of the three is liable to raise the alarm, and the others will hurry to investigate. Symbiosis, for sure.
 Yellow-rumped warbler. Not a lot of noteworthy activity the rest of the way up, but as we emerged at the summit, again the birds proved active—arguably even antic. Song sparrows and white-throats and phoebes and flickers, all flitting up the trail and ricocheting every which way. And again it occurred to me: here were some species that clearly liked the same kind of grassy open area with a nearby cover of brush and trees. I’ve seen these species together nearly every day up there lately. Symbiosis.
But an odd bird showed up then: a yellow-rumped warbler. Not uncommon or surprising, really, just not a species I commonly see up there much beyond early spring. And the hummingbird—or perhaps another—appeared again among the open expanse of pink flowers. I didn’t get a picture, though.
A cool morning, and with some serious fog—which began to lift just as we hit the summit. The sun came out fast, in fact, as we descended the open trail. And the birds descending with us included: flicker, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, waxwing, towhee, and yellow warbler. Again, a handful of species that seem to get along. (I listed no field sparrow yesterday or today, but that’s because I heard none singing—very likely they, too, were flitting down the open trail.)
Returning up the hill, I looked up to see a tight flock of black ducks flying swift and low from northeast to southwest. I can’t remember the last time I saw black ducks up there.
Also listed hermit thrush and hairy woodpecker and black-and-white warbler and white-breasted nuthatch.
Fact is, most of the birds I list up there likely know each other pretty well.
 Yellow warbler (female). Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American crow
2. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. American goldfinch (voice)
5. Eastern towhee
6. American robin
7. Chestnut-sided warbler
8. Veery
9. Common yellowthroat
10. Gray catbird
11. Cedar waxwing
12. Song sparrow
13. Alder flycatcher (voice)
14. Northern flicker
15. Eastern phoebe
16. White-throated sparrow
17. Yellow-rumped warbler
18. Ruby-throated hummingbird
19. Yellow warbler
20. Tufted titmouse (voice)
21. Blue jay (voice)
22. Black-and-white warbler (voice)
23. Chipping sparrow (voice)
24. Hermit thrush (voice)
25. Black duck
26. Hairy woodpecker
27. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
Elsewhere
28. Herring gull
29. House sparrow
30. Northern cardinal
31. Rock pigeon
 Inland fog.
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black duck, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, Eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, house sparrow, Northern cardinal, northern flicker, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, ruby throated hummingbird, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler, yellow-rumped warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
|
|
| |
| 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 |
|
|
