Northern Shrike.

Big storm was supposed to arrive today. Gray morning, a gusty wind. By late morning it was snowing a little and blowing mightily. In early afternoon, Jack and I hiked Beech Hill.

Big screen TV.

It wasn’t too cold—upper 20s (F), maybe—but, man, was it blowing. Wild winds would rise, then fall, causing the trees to howl, the conifers and hardwoods howling with different voices. Right away, I happened to spot a mourning dove fluttering like crazy across the road and into the undergrowth near the parking lot. Couldn’t hear anything but the wind.

The snow had lessened—we only got an inch or less—but the winds were powerful. About half way up the trail I spotted a bird of some kind as it left its perch and flitted low over the field to the right. All I saw was a dark blur, but its flight bounced a little, and at first I thought it might have been a flicker. But then I knew what it must’ve been: a Northern Shrike. A moment later, when we reached the place where the bird had been, I stopped and scanned in the direction toward which the bird had flown.

There it was. A shrike, keeping a low perch to stay out of the wind’s influence.

Did a bunch of errands then. The snow let up completely, but the winds continued for a while.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 12:45 p.m., I hiked the open trail.

1. Mourning Dove
2. Northern Shrike

Elsewhere

3. American Crow
4. Black-capped Chickadee (v)
5. Herring Gull
6. Mallard
7. Rock Pigeon

v = Voice only