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Archive for May, 2011
Saturday, May 7th, 2011
 Common yellowthroat. Sunlight streaming, up in a hurry, off to Beech Hill.
Nobody in the parking lot so early. As Jack and I hopped out of the truck, first thing I heard was a fog whistle. (Clear above, but it must’ve been thick out in the bay.) Then I heard, in quick succession, the voices of a titmouse, an ovenbird, and a black-throated green warbler.
 Savannah sparrow. Coming up the trail, the birds began to announce themselves: nuthatch, goldfinch, chickadee, towhee. A cardinal singing off somewhere. Then veery (second straight day), jay, white-throat, towhee, robin, crow—the usual, you might say. But in a nice change-of-pace, I heard fluty notes coming from the upper canopy: a rose-breasted grosbeak, first of the year.
Other typical birds sounded off as we ascended, including a couple of yellow-rumps. (They tend to diminish as spring progresses.) Toward the top, I heard a chestnut-sided warbler—they will soon become incredibly common—and a the call of a yellow warbler (an oddly aborted call). Another first-of-year bird.
They kept coming. As we reached the open fields, I heard crows hollering at something and had an idea I might see a hawk, but it turned out they were harassing a solitary raven.
A kestrel up top. The phoebes, of course. Song and savannah sparrows. A Nashville warbler calling. In fact, I’d had thirty species on my list by the time we reached the summit. Nice.
 Hermit thrush. Coming down the open trail, I heard a field sparrow (a species that didn’t appear on yesterday’s list, oddly) and the neighborhood chippy down toward Beech Hill Road. Mourning dove, robin, and another titmouse down that side, too. And as we started our return, I thought I caught the voices people in conversation—until I realized it was just a pair of Canada geese flying over, honking.
On our way back down the wooded trail, I heard a little commotion and watched as three hermit thrushes chased each other. Two males vying for the same female? Who knows—but it was a dramatic display. More ovenbirds on the lower wooded trail (many ovenbirds today), and chickadees, and woodpeckers.
We returned home and I had time to pull two ticks off each of us before Jack and I headed down to Owls Head, where we would meet my friend D and Jack’s friend, Boone, for some ball-chasing at Birch Point Beach State Park. A great day for it—the park’s still closed, but the tide was low and the flats were perfect for running dogs. (En route: starling, pigeon.) We watched an osprey fly over carrying nesting material, heard parulas and black-throated greens and black-and-whites, listened to a red-winged blackbird, and spotted two species of duck. And watched dogs play. (Jack took a high-speed face plant and wound up with a minor abrasion. No big deal.)
Returning home, I swung by Weskeag Marsh in South Thomaston, which was pretty quiet. However, I did see a goose, a greater yellowlegs, and a (first-of-year) barn swallow. Also a redwing and a brown-headed cowbird.
 Osprey. Today I had evidence that both the phoebes and nuthatches are for sure nesting out back. And tonight, thick fog moved in. We’re still supposed to get rain, albeit later than originally forecast. We shall see.
Note: had a tree swallow showed up on the hill, or had I confirmed the grackles in town, I would’ve had fifty birds on my list today. Oh, well!
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Tufted titmouse (voice)
2. Ovenbird
3. Black-throated green warbler (voice)
4. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
5. American goldfinch
6. Black-capped chickadee
7. Eastern towhee
8. Northern cardinal (voice)
9. Veery (voice)
10. Blue jay (voice)
11. White-throated sparrow
12. American robin
13. American crow
14. Rose-breasted grosbeak
15. Black-and-white warbler (voice)
16. Gray catbird
17. Hairy woodpecker
18. Yellow-rumped warbler
19. Common yellowthroat
20. Mourning dove (voice)
21. Northern flicker
22. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
23. Yellow warbler
24. Purple finch
25. Song sparrow
26. Common raven
27. Savannah sparrow
28. Herring gull
29. Eastern phoebe
30. Nashville warbler (voice)
31. American kestrel
32. Field sparrow (voice)
33. Chipping sparrow (voice)
34. Cedar waxwing (voice)
35. Canada goose
36. Hermit thrush
Elsewhere
37. House finch
38. European starling
39. Rock pigeon
40. Northern parula
41. Golden-crowned kinglet
42. Red-winged blackbird
43. Osprey
44. Common eider
45. Mallard
46. Double-crested cormorant
47. Greater yellowlegs
48. Barn swallow
49. Brown-headed cowbird
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American kestrel, American robin, barn swallow, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, Canada goose, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common eider, common raven, common yellow-throat, double-crested cormorant, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, European starling, field sparrow, golden-crowned kinglet, gray catbird, greater yellowlegs, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, mallard, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, osprey, ovenbird, purple finch, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler, yellow-rumped warbler
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Friday, May 6th, 2011
 Black-and-white warbler. Woke up early, saw sunlight streaming in. Jumped up, got dressed, warmed some coffee. Grabbed Jack, camera, and binoculars—and paused at the back glass doors. There was a phoebe sitting on the post of the deck rail. I waited until it flitted up into the nest over the back window. Guess the pair of little flycatchers are still tending that nest after all.
 Common raven. The song of a house finch accompanied our trip down the back stairs to the pickup. As we got to Beech Hill, some clouds had moved across the sun, but still some blue shone through here and there. Right away I heard the calls of two warblers: black-throated green and ovenbird. Soon after we started up the wooded trail, bird voices began to rain down. Towhee. Hairy woodpecker. And the descending veeur! of a veery—first-of-year bird.
Blue jay, crow, a catbird with a particularly sweet mew! Heard the voice of a flicker, saw some chipping chickadees, heard a goldfinch overhead and a yellowthroat from the direction of one of the lower fields. Black-and-white warbler, white-breasted nuthatch, a singing white-throated sparrow.
As we emerged into the upper meadows, there were song sparrows and more yellowthroats singing. Behind me, down the lower trail, I heard the gobble of a turkey and the song of a cardinal.
Ascending to the summit, I saw one of the pair of Beech Nut phoebes. And I heard in the distance the high, thin, matchless, lovely call of a savannah sparrow. Twenty species before we reached the top—quite a few more than on my list for both of the past two days.
 American kestrel. Things got interesting as we descended the open trail. First I saw a tree swallow fly over. Then I heard a Nashville warbler singing from the base of the southern slope. About half-way down, I heard—then saw—a raven flying up toward us. It soared over, croaking, before sailing down over the crest of the eastern hill behind us.
Far off to the south, a solitary herring gull flapped away in the same direction. A black-and-white warbler was singing at the edge of the little copse toward the road—and I spotted it hunting for grub on the trunk of a nearby tree. I managed to get close enough for a few photos.
In the area of the Beech Hill Road parking lot: chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, mourning dove. A pair of robins on the trail as we made our way back up—and a kestrel sitting in the little solo oak. As we got closer, the kestrel flew to a farther tree. Got closer again, it flew again. (I find that kestrels, like several other species, will wait until you stop moving to fly—somehow it knows that’s a bad sign.)
About half-way up, an osprey flew over headed west. That was a surprise.
Saw a purple finch singing from atop one of the spruces at the summit. It flew off to the south before we got there.
 Savannah sparrow. The voices of more song sparrows, black-and-white warblers, yellowthroats, towhees. But as we entered the lower woodlands, there wasn’t so much activity. A few chickadees, another hairy woodpecker.
Sunlight bathed the parking lot when we arrived back. I paused at the door of the truck for a moment to listen for my thirty-second bird—and by golly I heard it: the whistle of a broad-winged hawk. I peered across Rockville Street and caught sight of the bird in a tree. Watched it take flight and soar low over the canopy.
The mourning dove was sitting on the utility line on South Street this morning. Same place it sits in evening. Nesting nearby, no doubt.
Got back, took a shower, got to work. A frustrating day full of technical glitches that took until mid-afternoon to resolve. By then I was ready for a bike ride in the strong southerly wind. Coming south proved a challenge, but heading north, I flew. Starlings in town, many chippies singing along Route 1.
Late this afternoon, I watched the pair of nuthatches above the back deck engage in some of their interesting nesting rituals.
 Two islands. Tonight, I can still see stars up there. Supposed to cloud over, though, and likely even rain again tomorrow.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Black-throated green warbler (voice)
2. Ovenbird (voice)
3. Eastern towhee
4. Hairy woodpecker (voice)
5. Veery (voice)
6. Blue jay (voice)
7. American crow
8. Gray catbird (voice)
9. Northern flicker (voice)
10. Black-capped chickadee
11. American goldfinch
12. Common yellowthroat
13. Black-and-white warbler
14. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
15. White-throated sparrow (voice)
16. Song sparrow
17. Wild turkey (voice)
18. Northern cardinal (voice)
19. Eastern phoebe
20. Savannah sparrow
21. Tree swallow
22. Nashville warbler (voice)
23. Common raven
24. Herring gull
25. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
26. Chipping sparrow (voice)
27. Mourning dove
28. American robin
29. American kestrel
30. Osprey
31. Purple finch (voice)
32. Broad-winged hawk
Elsewhere
33. House finch
34. European starling
Tags: American crow, American kestrel, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, broad-winged hawk, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern cardinal, northern flicker, osprey, ovenbird, purple finch, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, wild turkey
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Thursday, May 5th, 2011
 Penobscot Bay. Cinco de Mayo. Wet outside this morning. Again I didn’t feel like an early hike and so launched into desk work first thing. However, I did notice a pair of phoebes hunting on the fringes of the parking lot. They were joined by a male house finch. I’m not sure the phoebes will keep the nest out back, though—I didn’t see them anywhere near it today and wonder if they’ve been put off by the comings and goings of Jack and me. Perhaps they’ve built another nest on the empty house next door (where I believe they’ve nested in past years). We shall see.
 American kestrel. Early on, I had to take a quick trip to town to restart a server. En route, I saw rock pigeons and starlings. And outside the datacenter, I heard a sweet, three-note bird song (repeated) that I didn’t recognize. I have no idea what it was.
On my return, carrying breakfast downstairs, I dropped egg and potatoes upside-down on the carpet. Ate ’em anyway.
In early afternoon, I heard the call of a pileated woodpecker coming from pretty close by and so hurried upstairs for my camera. Just as I looked out back for it, I saw it fly away up the hill.
Toward the end of the day—which proved mostly dry but persistently overcast—I grabbed Jack and we headed to the post office and grocery store. Coming along Main Street, I spotted a little flock of birds that I assumed were starlings at first but that turned out to be waxwings. A mourning dove perched on a utility line (where one always seems to be perched) along South Street. We pulled into the parking lot at the wooded Beech Hill trailhead. Got out. Listened.
Not a sound.
 Maple buds. It was quiet as a library up there, in fact—at least for most of the trip up. Finally, I did hear the call of a towhee. Then a chickadee. After a while, a crow. And sometime later, a gull. Mostly very silent.
At one point I did hear the chip of a yell0w-rump flying over. And emerging at the summit, I caught sight of a kestrel winging its way around Beech Nut from the western slope. After a minute or two of listening, I heard the voice of a song sparrow. Just one song. Otherwise, only the distant rush of traffic on Route 17.
Returning, I heard the flight song of a goldfinch—but that was it. No birds at all down the lower wooded trail. Bad weather, bad time of day. Maybe tomorrow morning will prove more fruitful. This should be an active, birdy time of year.
Back at the parking lot, I stopped at the kiosk and heard the note of a phoebe. Nine species on the hill today.
Still wet tonight, but not raining. Looking forward to morning.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Eastern towhee
2. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
3. American crow
4. Herring gull (voice)
5. Yellow-rumped warbler (voice)
6. American kestrel
7. Song sparrow (voice)
8. American goldfinch (voice)
9. Eastern phoebe (voice)
Elsewhere
10. House finch
11. House sparrow
12. Rock pigeon
13. European starling
14. Cedar waxwing
15. Mourning dove
16. Pileated woodpecker
17. Northern cardinal
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American kestrel, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, European starling, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, pileated woodpecker, rock pigeon, song sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
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| Bird Report is a (sometimes intermittent) record of the birds I encounter while hiking, see while driving, or spy outside my window. —Brian Willson |
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