Last night, a birder friend had opined, based on radar images, that a great mass of migrating birds were following a front and headed this way. After a few drizzly, foggy days, this morning dawned sunny. I began to think this morning would be an active one at Beech Hill. So dog and I got there early with (in my case, anyway) high hopes.

And sure enough, from the parking lot, I listed a quick eight or ten species. These included a black-throated blue warbler singing from up the little slope along one side of the trail, so Jack and I headed in its direction. With a light breeze was moving through the newly green trees, drops of remnant water spattered down as we crept nearer the song. I found the bird’s tree. I found the bird. I tried for photos, but it was pretty high up there. Never mind, though, because I could tell there’d be plenty more new arrivals farther up the hill.

And there were. Including a least flycatcher calling chi-bek! chi-bek! near the brook. Then came a pair of singing male rose-breasted grosbeaks, one of which had clearly horned in on the other’s territory. A chase ensued.

Warblers all around. Good light. Vireos calling from the canopy. My list grew quickly.

And then, about half-way up, I heard the slight sound of a voicemail alert coming from the cell phone in my back pocket. That’s funny, I thought—and not because the call had come so early, rather because I hadn’t heard the phone ring in the first place. And then I thought it really funny, because I realized that, my ringtone being the song of an ovenbird, of course I wouldn’t have heard it. There were real, live ovenbirds singing all around me. Maybe I should pick a different ringtone in the month of May.

I listened to the voicemail: an early-rising hosting client reporting a problem with a mailserver. Uh-oh—seemed like I wouldn’t be hiking all over the hill this morning, after all.

But we did hurry up the rest of the upper wooded trail. Towhees, catbirds, mourning doves, a great crested flycatcher. Warblers everywhere—including a brightly singing yellow at the upper fields. I snapped a few photos of the warbler before we turned and hurried back down and headed to the datacenter.

Found the problem, fixed it. Thought about returning to the hill, but by then the morning had grown long-in-the-tooth, so I didn’t.

But an hour or so later, I got a call from my across-the-road neighbor, who reported a little yellow bird with a black mask had flown into a window and he figured I might know what to do. Well, I did know what to do. Grab my camera and go attend to a dazed common yellowthroat. And there sat the little guy, motionless but clearly all right. Dazed. I reached to pick him gently up. At first he didn’t respond to my touch, then at once he took wing and tried to fly in the window again. I finally managed to coax him onto my fingers, moved away from the window, and he finally flew off over the roof and toward some trees. I think he’ll be fine.

This afternoon, I took a long bike ride and heard many singing birds. It got me really looking forward to my hike first thing in the morning.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:30 a.m., I hiked the upper wooded trail.

1. Ovenbird*
2. Common yellowthroat*
3. Chestnut-sided warbler
4. Black-throated green warbler* (v)
5. Black-capped chickadee*
6. Northern parula
7. Red-eyed vireo
8. Black-throated blue warbler*
9. Black-and-white warbler (v)
10. American crow*
11. Veery
12. Eastern phoebe
13. American redstart*
14. Least flycatcher (v)
15. Rose-breasted grosbeak
16. Eastern towhee (v)
17. Blue-headed warbler (v)
18. Blue jay*
19. Yellow warbler*
20. Great crested flycatcher*
21. Double-crested cormorant
22. Mourning dove*
23. Tufted titmouse
24. American goldfinch
25. Gray catbird*
26. Nashville warbler

Elsewhere

27. House finch (v)
28. Herring gull
29. Mallard
30. European starling
31. Rock pigeon
32. House sparrow
33. Chipping sparrow
34. Laughing gull

v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere