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Archive for May, 2012
Monday, May 28th, 2012
 Yellow warbler. Jack and I crossed paths with a friendly, older birding couple on our Beech Hill hike this morning. I could tell they were birders by their binoculars. We met them just as I’d heard the blackpoll warbler singing again from across Beech Hill Road—whose voice I pointed out. I mentioned they’d likely see alder flycatchers, eastern towhees, and perhaps a savannah sparrow. They said they were especially hoping for towhees. We met them again as we returned up the hill and they were coming down, and they’d sure enough seen a flycatcher and a towhee. Clearly they were from away, so I asked if they visited often, and they told me it was only their third time at Beech Hill but that they loved the place.
 Savannah sparrow. After we bade farewell, I got thinking to wondering just how far the friendly couple had traveled in pursuit of birds. Had they visited Point Pelee, Ontario? Cape May? The Rio Grande Valley? Costa Rica and/or other exotic locations? And this got me thinking about something I’ve been ruminating on a lot lately—the different kinds of knowing.
Many rabid birders range far and wide to experience new landscapes and find the birds they hold. A lot of people generally love to travel, to explore new places, sights, people. Others are content to stay home, to study their familiar surroundings in intimate detail. Although I’m not sure it’s completely true, I suppose some might consider me to fall into the latter category. I do, after all, hike the same hill every day. I walk the same trails, pass the same vegetation, see and hear the same birds. What strikes me is that, in doing this, I get to know my surroundings deeply. I’ll stand with patient Jack and listen to distant voices and immediately know their sources. Black-throated green warbler. Veery. Broad-winged hawk. And I’ve gotten to know variations in these voices: the late-season calls of parulas, chestnut-sided warblers, black-and-white warblers. I’ve come to know almost exactly what day which birds will go silent. When each species nests. When to begin to keep an eye out for ruffed grouse hatchlings.
 Cedar waxwing. I know, for instance, that this year we have more American redstarts than usual.
Those who travel far and wide get to know many more places and vistas, colors and sounds, smells and sea breezes than I. But their knowledge is shallower, more static, like a collection of photographs. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
And in fact I’m not entirely convinced I don’t have that urge in me. I recall with excruciating wonder several places I’ve seen only fleetingly: Big Bend National Park, Glacier Bay, Stonehenge. I have a hankering to visit places like Iceland, New Zealand, Antarctica. I would love to bird Point Pelee someday. But I’m not unhappy to know what I know—to be able to tell the difference between the chip-note of an ovenbird, yellowthroat, white-throated sparrow, chestnut-sided warbler. I love that subtle little two-note murmur of a ruby-throated hummingbird. On the other hand, it’s the only “native” hummingbird around here (not counting the rufous hummer I saw in Rockport a couple years ago), whereas my old home state of Texas has a dozen species or more. Thing is, I wasn’t yet a birder back then.
Then again, what do I know, really? Well, I suppose I know I’ll hike Beech Hill again tomorrow with my dog.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 8:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Ovenbird*
2. Chestnut-sided warbler
3. Red-eyed vireo*
4. American goldfinch*
5. American robin*
6. American crow*
7. Herring gull*
8. Mourning dove*
9. Chipping sparrow* (v)
10. Alder flycatcher
11. Veery (v)
12. Common yellowthroat*
13. Black-capped chickadee
14. American redstart*
15. Eastern towhee
16. Tufted titmouse* (v)
17. Black-throated green warbler* (v)
18. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
19. Canada warbler (v)
20. Gray catbird (v)
21. Blue jay (v)
22. Song sparrow*
23. Tree swallow
24. Yellow warbler*
25. Eastern phoebe*
26. Savannah sparrow
27. Field sparrow (v)
28. Cedar waxwing*
29. Great crested flycatcher (v)
30. Chipping sparrow* (v)
31. Black-and-white warbler
32. Blackpoll warbler (v)
33. Hermit thrush* (v)
34. Common raven (v)
Elsewhere
34. House finch (v)
35. Northern cardinal (v)
36. European starling
37. House sparrow
38. Osprey
39. Northern parula (v)
40. Canada goose
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blackpoll warbler, blue jay, Canada goose, Canada warbler, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, European starling, field sparrow, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern parula, osprey, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, tufted titmouse, veery, yellow warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | 1 Comment »
Sunday, May 27th, 2012
 American robin. Here on the 44th parallel, May begins on perhaps the brightest day of the year and ends in deepest shade. Even early this cloudless morning, as Jack and I stepped onto the wooded Beech Hill trail, the world darkened, the sun’s angular light muffled by new, thick foliage low and high. The woodland birds were relatively quiet—perhaps half as vocal as they were just a week ago. They’ve got other things than singing on their mind.
 Brown-headed cowbirds. The mosquitos were active, though. And you could catch glimpses of flitting warblers and thrushes, chickadees and vireos. The calls of ovenbirds were perhaps most apparent still, echoing through the trees. Or maybe red-eyed vireos—they will continue to sing into summer. Yellowthroats and chestnut-sided warblers piped up intermittently. I heard a drumming woodpecker, a crow in the distance, waxwings and a goldfinch overhead. About half-way up the shady trail, I caught glimpses of the open fields and the voices of an alder flycatcher and a song sparrow.
The flycatchers, having arrived more recently, are still laying claim to nesting spots. I found two of their likely nesting areas and spotted another couple of apparently new arrivals. Didn’t hear a yellow warbler until we’d nearly reached the summit.
Then over the hill and into the light. A field sparrow was singing from the birches beside the open trail, and I watched a turkey vulture wing low over the barrens. Four cowbirds sat at the tip of a spruce along Beech Hill Road. I thought I heard the partial call of a Tennessee warbler across the road, but I dare not list the species based on several repeated partial calls. A rose-breasted grosbeak was singing from somewhere down there, and as we turned back up the hill, I spotted a broad-winged hawk sailing just above the treetops.
 Alder flycatcher. Before we dove back into the shade, I heard a tufted titmouse and a great crested flycatcher and watched a singing alder fly. And in the cool shade again, beyond the buzzing of mosquitos, I heard the lonesome, poignant call of a wood-pewee. A perfect sound for a morning like this. I think I’d like the pewee’s call as my ringtone.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Ovenbird* (v)
2. Red-eyed vireo*
3. American robin*
4. Common yellowthroat*
5. Chestnut-sided warbler
6. American crow*
7. American goldfinch (v)
8. Veery (v)
9. Downy woodpecker (v)
10. Black-capped chickadee (v)
11. Mourning dove* (v)
12. American redstart*
13. Eastern towhee
14. Alder flycatcher
15. Black-and-white warbler (v)
16. Song sparrow*
17. Gray catbird (v)
18. Blue jay (v)
19. Cedar waxwing* (v)
20. Yellow warbler
21. Eastern phoebe
22. Field sparrow
23. Turkey vulture
24. Rose-breasted grosbeak (v)
25. Black-throated green warbler* (v)
26. Brown-headed cowbird
27. Broad-winged hawk
28. Tufted titmouse (v)
29. Great crested flycatcher (v)
30. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
Elsewhere
31. House finch (v)
32. Herring gull
33. Laughing gull (v)
34. European starling
35. Rock pigeon
36. House sparrow (v)
37. Red-winged blackbird (v)
38. Chipping sparrow (v)
39. Canada goose
40. Northern cardinal (v)
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, broad-winged hawk, brown-headed cowbird, Canada goose, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, downy woodpecker, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, European starling, field sparrow, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, laughing gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, red-winged blackbird, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, turkey vulture, veery, yellow warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Saturday, May 26th, 2012
 Red-eyed vireo. There’s a great book on migration called Living on the Wind, by naturalist Scott Weidensaul. (If you haven’t read it, do.) Most thought-provoking, to me, is Weidensaul’s reminder that North American migratory bird species spend only a fraction of their lives where they nest—that most of their year is spent in warm, distant forests or tropical shores. Or, well, migrating.
 Chestnut-sided warbler. We think of them as “our” birds, assuming that nest equals home, when in fact nesting is more of an urgent imperative, a fast and furious adventure. Time is short. So much to do.
Is this their home, really? Or is this simply where their go for their annual mission to breed and hatch, to teach to fly and hunt and forage—only to return to the places they live and eat and hang out until it’s time again to fly?
I got to thinking about this today on Beech Hill with Jack, where clearly a lot of urgent business is going on.
At the trailhead, I met my friend Ron, who was leading a birding class. As Jack and I approached the large group, they had just spotted a phoebe near its nest, sending out notes of alarm. We slipped past. But during the rest of our hike up and over the hill I saw about three dozen other species doing pretty much the same thing.
Hidden nests are everywhere. Eggs are being laid. Birds are expending a lot of energy claiming territories, pairing off, building nests, laying eggs, and all the while fending off perceived threats to the business of reproduction.
 Ruby-throated hummingbird. Coming up the wooded trail we got hollered at by chestnut-sided warblers, towhees, hummingbirds, yellowthroats veeries. Other birds went silent—clammed up and disappeared on our approach. Alder flycatchers are shy that way. Field sparrows, too.
Down at the opposite parking lot, we surprised a pair of nesting redstarts, which burst off their nest (wherever it was) and chipped at us from two directions. Soon, when the ground birds’ clutches hatch, we’re sure to be duped by the noisy distractions of grouse, turkeys, and woodcocks leading us away from their young. Plus, even with all they have to accomplish, they’ve also got to eat.
Up with the dawn, busy all day. At rest during the shortening night. I have visions of lazy falls, winters, and early springs in teeming southern locales, with eating being the main mission (and avoiding being eaten).
But with ever the ticking clocks in their brains, some faint hint of anticipation of that next implausibly long, dangerous trip come spring.
Had a long, sweaty, delicious bike ride this afternoon. Near Aldermere Farm in Rockport, a large turkey burst out of the underbrush and flew across the road right in front of me, followed by a big galloping fluffy white dog. I stuck around to make sure the owner (who was dashing down her driveway) got her dog back.
There were geese at Aldermere Farm, grazing near Lily Pond. A goose has got to eat before it gets down to business.
Beech Hill Listf
Beginning at 8:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Ovenbird*
2. Red-eyed vireo*
3. American robin*
4. Black-throated green warbler*
5. Eastern phoebe
6. Common yellowthroat*
7. Chestnut-sided warbler*
8. American crow*
9. Veery
10. Black-capped chickadee*
11. American goldfinch* (v)
12. American redstart*
13. Eastern towhee
14. Alder flycatcher
15. Blue jay*
16. Gray catbird* (v)
17. Northern flicker
18. Yellow warbler*
19. Mallard* (v)
20. Ruby-throated hummingbird
21. Hermit thrush (v)
22. Black-and-white warbler
23. Song sparrow*
24. Tree swallow
25. Wood thrush (v)
26. Savannah sparrow
27. Rose-breasted grosbeak (v)
28. Field sparrow
29. Herring gull*
30. Purple finch (v)
31. Least flycatcher (v)
32. Brown-headed cowbird (v)
33. Tufted titmouse* (v)
34. Hairy woodpecker (v)
35. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
36. Blackburnian warbler (v)
37. Broad-winged hawk
Elsewhere
38. House finch (v)
39. European starling
40. Rock pigeon
41. House sparrow
42. Cedar waxwing (v)
43. Northern parula (v)
44. Wild turkey
45. Canada goose
46. Chipping sparrow (v)
47. Mourning dove
48. Northern cardinal (v)
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
 Broad-winged hawk.
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blackburnian warbler, blue jay, broad-winged hawk, brown-headed cowbird, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, European starling, field sparrow, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, least flycatcher, mallard, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, ovenbird, purple finch, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, ruby-throated hummingbird, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, tufted titmouse, veery, wood thrush, yellow 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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