After I wrote last, I took a peek outside and saw a night sky full of stars. First thing this morning, I saw a morning sky full of blue. Just a flew small white clouds blowing over. Cool and bright—but with a brash whip of spring wind. Heard a mourning dove call, and the screams of a jay, and robins, a cardinal, song sparrow, house finch. The house sparrows, too, were raising a ruckus from somewhere next door. Chickadees out back, and gulls soaring happily in the wind.

After a particularly tedious (but not altogether unpleasant) day of repetitive desk work, I thought I might grab a bike ride, but the crazy wind dissuaded me. Instead, after a couple quick errands, dog and I ended up where we have every day for the past week or two—the wooded Beech Hill trail.

A red squirrel greeted us from a limb overhanging the parking lot. Along the trail, the thaw continues—hardly any snow to speak of now, but plenty of trickling, ambling water. Crows cawed at each other as we rounded the first few curves. Heard robins piping from up ahead of us. Then saw both species, crow and robin. No fox sparrows anywhere as we passed through the sumac grove and moved up along the tangles where I’ve seen them in the past several days—but then, a little higher, there they were. A pair of them flitting off in opposite directions. We stopped and listened a while to their sharp little alarm calls back and forth.

During our ascent—after such a brilliantly sunny day—clouds had moved quickly over from the west. When we emerged into the open upper fields, only a diminishing patch of blue remained out over the bay. You could still see the disk of the sun, though, beaming through the hazy clouds above Beech Nut.

Unobstructed, the wind assailed us mercilessly as we circled the hut. I scanned for harriers—and I’ll be damned if I didn’t see one. A male, low on the southern slope, near the trail down there. As I raised my camera, it landed behind a small bare bush. Couldn’t get a good angle on it, took a few steps closer. It rose and quickly sailed away behind the rise. Of course we hurried down in that direction so I could get a look down the hillside. Didn’t see it anywhere—but I did see my friend Richard coming up the open trail with hiking partner. We turned and accompanied them back up to the windy summit, then began our trip back down into the trees.

At the little open stretch along the eastern fields, I scanned again for the harrier—and I’ll be damned if I didn’t see it again. It tilted briefly in the wind before soaring away again. I managed a distant photo.

The lower trail might as well have been a stream. Rather than tiptoe around the wet spots I decided I’d do the opposite, and the whole way back I strode merrily through the muddiest flow. I sort of felt like a kid stomping around in muck. I’d forgotten how much fun that is (although it seemed to confuse Jack a little).

About the time we got back home, the sky had cleared again from the west, and the setting sun lit the tops of the trees across the road—and an immense, dense wall of clouds receding.

Just a minute ago I took peek outside and saw a night sky full of stars.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:30 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.

1. American crow
2. American robin
3. Fox sparrow
4. Northern harrier

Elsewhere

5. Mourning dove
6. Blue jay
7. Northern cardinal
8. Song sparrow
9. House finch
10. House sparrow
11. Black-capped chickadee
12. Herring gull
13. Rock pigeon
14. Ring-billed gull