I awoke to the patter of a light, steady rain. And somewhere in it, the soft song of a titmouse and the brighter call of a cardinal. But mostly the steady sound of rain.

Got up, had breakfast. Then I dug out my old copy of The Essays of E.B. White and reread “Once More to the Lake.” A lovely essay—on the constancy of the universe and the mysterious passage of time—with a startlingly powerful ending. I spent most of the rest of the day tweaking on a long piece of fiction I’d composed over the past couple years. It was nice to dive in again.

Outside, the rain continued, got heavier. A nice drenching. I thought of friends in drought-stricken parts of the country and felt not a little gratitude—and then  braced myself for a wet hike up Beech Hill.

There was a vehicle parked in the Rockville Street lot, which was surprising. But met no other hikers on the trails. I didn’t think we’d meet many birds, either. Even hearing their calls would prove a challenge, what with the suddenly blustery wind in the trees and the noisy cascade of falling water droplets. We slogged on along anyway, however birdlessly.

But then, nearing the little brook, I heard the faint peeps of a chickadee. We stopped near a colony of ferns and I scanned the dripping hardwood canopy. Then I heard another call—a sharp, unfamiliar chip! Finally I saw something flitting in the leaves and raised my binoculars. What I saw was no chickadee, rather a warbler. Appeared to be a Nashville warbler. I snapped off a few photos, knowing they’d be crappy in such low light. Then I saw another small bird. Focused in. It was a red-eyed vireo.

At last I saw the chickadee and wondered if the warbler and vireo were following its lead, or its voice, or otherwise hanging around it as birds seem to do in the off-season, perhaps as a signal of food. Who knows.

We continued up. Incredibly, above all the rushing liquidity, I heard the high calls of a waxwing. Then the alarm note of a robin. Then the chattering of a goldfinch. Even the caw of a crow.

Approaching the misty, wet, wind-whipped summit, I happened to spot a song sparrow darting away from the trail in front of us. At Beech Nut, a little brown bird flew up onto the north wall of the hut and clung to the stones there. I attempted a photo, figuring it must be a young phoebe displaying such odd behavior—especially because it then flew from there up into the eaves where the phoebe’s nest is. Only later, when I looked at my photos, did I recognize it as a chippy. Also got a glimpse of a savannah sparrow perched briefly on one of the field stakes.

Returning, I heard the loud chip-note of a chestnut-sided warbler where I’ve seen several in recent days. And down in the woods I heard a pewee. As we slogged our way down across the brook again—both of us soaked by this time—again I heard a chickadee where we’d heard one before. And, again, another strident chip. I caught sight of a pair of birds near where the warbler had been, and again they were warblers. But these were black-and-whites, an adult feeding a youngster, but they darted off into the trees before I could try for a photo.

After I got home and downloaded my photographs, I realized that what I’d assumed was a Nashville appeared instead to have been a juvenile Canada warbler. First one of those I’ve seen up there in months.

Back home, during my daily tick check, I found a very small sore with a tiny black speck in it. It had to have ended up there yesterday morning, when in my distractedness over a work emergency I didn’t do a thorough check for the first time all year. I kept the speck, whatever it is. Considering it was last August when a tiny larval tick gave me the Lyme germ, I’ll have to keep an eye on the sore, I guess.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.

1. Black-capped chickadee
2. Canada warbler (juvenile)
3. Red-eyed vireo
4. Cedar waxwing (voice)
5. American robin (voice)
6. American crow (voice)
8. American goldfinch (voice)
9. Song sparrow
10. Chipping sparrow
11. Savannah sparrow
12. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
13. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
14. Black-and-white warbler

Elsewhere

15. Tufted titmouse
16. Northern cardinal
17. Herring gull