Brown creeper.

A white world out there this morning, thanks to a little overnight snow. Mostly cloudy today—with a few sunny patches—but not that cold for early February. Low twenties (F). Not a lot of wind. I spent much of the day working at the kitchen table, listening to the muffled voices of crows and jays out back. Managed to spot a titmouse that was singing its spring love song.

In afternoon, dog and I headed for the hill. The wind had risen a little, and it was pretty nippy by then. But I hadn’t taken two steps away from the truck when I found myself surrounded by little birds: chickadees, nuthatches, and a brown creeper. The creeper was a surprise—it flitted from somewhere to the nearest trunk to me and began creeping upward, pausing to poke around in the snowy lichen. I’d never been so close to a brown creeper before. Their camouflage is exceptional.

At the summit, I heard a flicker calling over and over, but that was it up there for the day. That, and big view of a white and blue-gray world.

Kind of off-topic, but this date fifty-four years ago was the day the music died.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:15 p.m., I hiked the open trail.

1. Black-capped chickadee (v)
2. White-breasted nuthatch
3. Brown creeper
4. Northern flicker (v)

Elsewhere

5. American crow (v)
6. Herring gull
7. Blue jay (v)
8. Tufted titmouse

v = Voice only