|
|
 |
|
|
Archive for August, 2011
Thursday, August 4th, 2011
 Spruce. Today I confirmed that I can ID another chip note. That was cool.
 Beech Nut. The day was cool, too. Somewhat overcast to start with, but the sky soon cleared. Chickadees were flitting about out back, plus the resident cardinal. As the day progressed and the sun climbed, the air grew warmish. Not much of a breeze. I worked until mid-afternoon then jumped on my bike. Couldn’t help but notice a large—towering, really—cumulus cloud in the west, and about two-thirds of the way through my ride, the sky clouded over again, but no rain came.
Still, by the time Jack and I arrived at Beech Hill for our daily hike, the sky had grown maybe half-cloudy. Lumbering clouds in the west, sun overhead, layers of clouds over the bay. Vireos in the woods, as usual. Chickadees and towhees calling, distant crows, waxwings zipping about in the canopy.
Nearing the upper fields, I heard the chip note of a yellowthroat. (Pretty easy to ID.) Then the clear note of an alder flycatcher. (This one I learned earlier this year.) Then a sharp, quick, slightly downward-turning chip! from some berry brambles up ahead. Right away I thought, That’s a chestnut-sided warbler.
 Chestnut-sided warbler. You’d think I’d know their chip note by now, considering chestnut-sides are perhaps the most abundant bird on the hill in high season. But theirs is fairly non-descript. A lot of warblers have a quick, sharp chip—including yellow and black-and-white warblers. I’ve come to know the softer chip! of a yellow-rump pretty well. An ovenbird has a sharp, loud, distinctive chip. But only this year have I heard enough of the chips of chestnut-sides to think I knew what I was listening to. Alas, the bird never made an appearance.
Phoebe up top. Song sparrow in the hedgerow. No hint of the growls of a chupacabra. The setting sun lit the summit, illuminating a beautiful coastal view.
Coming back down, I heard that chip! again—different location, different bird, same chip! But this time I caught sight of the little warbler. Sure enough, a chestnut-sided.
I can tell a cardinal by its chip. I can tell chickadee, titmouse, house finch. The chuck! of a red-winged blackbird. The quay! of a hermit thrush. I can tell song, savannah, and white-throated sparrows. (Oddly, I heard un unknown chip from the summit spruce grove today then saw the bird: a chipping sparrow, of all things. Guess I don’t know those yet.) Rose-breasted grosbeaks have an unmistakable twisted chee-ip!
 Inland hills. True, chip notes don’t give you much to go on. You probably need a good ear to distinguish the differences in pitch, timbre, duration. But if you hear them often enough, apparently, you can actually recognize a bird by its briefest of calls—just as others of its species can.
After dark, some light rain arrived. Temperatures somewhere in the 60s (F). I hear the high today in my ol’ hometown in Austin, Texas, was 107. They’re setting crazy-hot records there this year. I suppose that might have something to do with why I’ve lived in Maine some thirty-some-odd years.
Chip!
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:45 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
3. Eastern towhee
4. Cedar waxwing
5. Gray catbird
6. American crow
7. Common yellowthroat (voice)
8. Mourning dove
9. Alder flycatcher
10. Song sparrow
11. Chestnut-sided warbler
12. Eastern phoebe
13. American goldfinch
14. Chipping sparrow
15. American robin (voice)
16. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
17. Hermit thrush
Elsewhere
18. Northern cardinal
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American robin, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, red-eyed vireo, song sparrow
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Wednesday, August 3rd, 2011
 Gray catbird. A sunny morning, a mild day. Warm in the sun, cool in the shade. Cardinal, song sparrow, catbird. I tackled some paperwork, answered some email, worked on a font. By mid-afternoon, the lure of a sun-drenched world prompted a swift bike ride. A huge cumulus cloud loomed in the west but moved away. Crows and house sparrows along the roadside—and plenty of traffic on the road itself. The Lobster Festival has begun.
 High-bush blueberries. Then dog and I took a hike. No vehicles at the wood Beech Hill trailhead, but plenty of sun still (unlike the past two days). And plenty of birds right away—vireos in the deeper woods, chickadees in the distance, waxwings in the low greenery, overflying goldfinches. While photographing of a particular high-bush blueberry whose spring flowers I’ve seen hummingbird’s attending, I heard a loud chip behind me: a female yellowthroat. And as I attempted photos of the warbler, I heard the song of a titmouse from down the wooded slope.
Been checking the progress of the ripening blackberries. It’ll be a week or two. And I forgot to mention that, yesterday, the trails showed evidence of the previous night’s downpour—intermittent leaf dams, mainly—which we stepped over again this evening. Heard a hermit thrush as we neared the summit. Met a young couple and a dog on the trail and chatted some at Beech Nut. Suddenly, a chipping sparrow flitted onto the grass about a dozen feet away. It didn’t stay long, so I led Jack over toward where I saw it fly—and heard the sound again.
The same spooky growly bark I’d heard up there a week or so ago. It was coming from down the eastern slope, exactly where I’d last heard it. I turned and asked the couple if they’d heard it. They had. None of us could ID the animal it came from. I recounted how I’d heard it before and the various theories of what made the strange sound—fisher? coyote?—and then we began to head back.
 Common yellowthroat (female). And I heard it again. Seemingly louder. Slightly different-sounding, but clearly the same critter. Heard it two or three times. At first I thought it near, but when I moved back toward the summit, clearly it came from the base of the slop. Kind of loud—but also subtle.
I got to thinking maybe it’s a raccoon—I’ve heard they can travel pretty fast when they want to—perhaps munching on blueberries down there. Perhaps that’s what’s been responsible for the blueberry-filled scat here and there on the wooded trail.
Or else it’s a chupacabra.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
3. American crow
4. Cedar waxwing
5. American goldfinch (voice)
6. Eastern towhee (voice)
7. Common yellowthroat
8. Tufted titmouse (voice)
9. Gray catbird
10. Song sparrow (voice)
11. Hermit thrush (voice)
12. Eastern phoebe
13. Chipping sparrow
14. Herring gull
15. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
Elsewhere
16. Northern cardinal
17. House finch
18. House sparrow
19. Mourning dove
20. Rock pigeon
 The bay today.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, song sparrow, tufted titmouse
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2011
 Beech Nut. Late last night thunderstorms blew through. We seemed to get only the eastern fringe here on the shore, but even so the western sky delivered a dramatic light show. Thunder rumbled and cracked. And intermittent bursts of hail clattered against the back windows. I awoke this morning to a soggy world.
 Chestnut-sided warbler. And a relatively chilly one. The sun emerged a time or two in morning—as did the resident cardinal, a song sparrow, a catbird—but great, slate-blue clouds loomed in the west and the radio kept blasting weather alerts for violent storms in other parts of the state. And he clouds continued their peripheral looming as I spent about three hours at midday scrambling around to meet the FedEx pickup deadline. Got back to find it had rained at my place, but apparently not too heavily.
By the time Jack and I pulled into the Rockville Street parking lot, the sun had actually emerged, and the world had brightened. By the time we reached the summit, Beech Nut was cloaked in moving wisps of fog—much like yesterday. Except it was a lot chillier up there.
Not many birds to report today. Not even a dozen on the hill—although I did run into a solitary chestnut-sided warbler chipping at us from just beyond the ripening blackberry brambles. It’s funny how scarce chestnut-sides seem at this time of year when I know there are scores—if not hundreds—up there. Same with ovenbirds (I haven’t listed one of those in weeks) and other warblers. I did happen to hear a hermit thrush and a veery in quick succession.
 Blackberries. Elsewhere, not much. Although while standing out in the parking lot, I heard the cries of a laughing gull.
Tonight it’s about 60 degrees (F) out, is all. And you can hear the patter of rainwater dripping from the trees. Not altogether unpleasant, actually. I shall sleep well.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5 p.m, I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. Cedar waxwing
3. American crow
4. Eastern towhee
5. American goldfinch
6. Red-eyed vireo
7. Gray catbird
8. Chestnut-sided warbler
9. Hermit thrush
10. Veery
11. Eastern phoebe
Elsewhere
12. Northern cardinal
13. Song sparrow
14. House sparrow
15. Herring gull
16. Laughing gull
17. Mourning dove
 Rose Hips.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house sparrow, laughing gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, red-eyed vireo, song sparrow, veery
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
|
|
| |
| Bird Report is a (sometimes intermittent) record of the birds I encounter while hiking, see while driving, or spy outside my window. —Brian Willson |
|
|
