This day began wet, with a good, soaking rain coming down. Made breakfast, headed down to work, spent the morning wrestling with puzzles that had no apparent solution. But the rain let up, and as I sat at my desk I glanced out the window and—on separate occasions—saw three birds on the railing just a few feet away: a house finch, a (bald) cardinal, and a catbird.

And then the sun came out. Lots of blue sky between great mountainous cumulus. After an hour or two of such spectacular weather, I changed into my cycling suit and prepared for a good fast ride. Just as I was about to set off, though, I happened to see a hawk circling right above my building and so set my bike aside and dashed up the back stairs for my camera—and my bike shoes slipped on the wet wooden steps and I went down hard, slamming my chin into the rail and smacking my knees and wrist and other body parts. After I’d managed to check the damage and actually retrieve my camera, the hawk had moved too far up for a photo. Oh, well.

The ride was nice. Plenty of birds enjoying the brilliant afternoon. But by the time I was ready to take Jack up to Beech Hill, an overcast had moved across half the sky. No problem. We’d done this drill before. So off we went, started up the trail—and it began to drizzle. No problem. Although neither of us had brought a raincoat, we’d hiked in plenty of drizzle.

Several birds calling right away. In fact, a veery flitted up to a branch just ahead of us and began to sing in full view. I managed a few photos and a video. Nice. Then, not very long after, a nesting pair of redstarts began to chip at us with alarm—we’d no doubt crept close to a new crop of nestlings. Again, they posed for pictures. A couple of minutes later, about half-way up the hill, I heard what sounded like rising traffic, an approaching rush. Only just before it arrived did I recognize the sound, with a feeling something like horror. And it began to pour.

We stood under a little stand of staghorn sumac for a little while as the rain pelted down. I stood hunkered over my camera, the back of my T-shirt getting soaked; Jack snuck off under a bush and lay down. After maybe a minute or two, the rain seemed to be letting up, so I took a gamble and we began to move quickly up again.

It was a mistake.

The rain didn’t let up. It kept pelting down during out whole hike up, our turn down the lower trail, our swift walk back. I heard no other birds—heard only the roar of rain falling on full foliage, like the sound of loud, extended applause. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as we reached the parking lot again, it stopped.

First I took Jack’s towel and dried off my camera. Then I dried off Jack. Then I stripped off my sodden T-shirt and we headed home, where, a short three miles away, no rain had fallen. I fact, the sun was out.

Figures.

And then my camera wouldn’t work. Lens error. Uh-oh. I finally turned on a wall heater and hung the thing from a picture hook above it. It took a couple hours, but—I’ll be damned—it began to work again. (Might take a while for the viewfinder to clear, though.)

Talk about an adventurous day. But all’s well that ends well, I suppose.

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

1. Red-eyed vireo* (v)
2. Northern cardinal* (v)
3. Black-capped chickadee (v)
4. American goldfinch* (v)
5. American crow
6. Veery
7. Common yellowthroat
8. Chestnut-sided warbler
9. American redstart*
10. Ovenbird* (v)

Elsewhere

11. House finch
12. Gray catbird
13. Herring gull
14. Red-tailed hawk
15. Mourning dove
16. European starling
17. Blue jay (v)
18. Chipping sparrow (v)
19. Yellow warbler
20. Common yellowthroat
21. Hermit thrush (v)

v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere