Common yellowthroat.
Some rain and fog early, but then it dried up and the sun came out. A steamy sort of day. Got a load of work done—and even got a quick bike ride in before making the short trip with Jack to Beech Hill. Because, after all, there are birds to count up there.
Savannah sparrow.
Veery (1). Ovenbird (2). Then I heard a black-throated green warbler calling very near, which was sort of an unexpected surprise (3). Veery, chickadee waxwing (4, 5, 6). So far, I’d only heard these species—and didn’t see a bird until a female yellowthroat popped up onto a leafy perch ahead of us (10). I did then see a chestnut-sided warbler, just there, but couldn’t focus my camera in time. And a towhee fluttered away through the budding staghorn sumac. The fourth bird I saw was another surprising one: a male hairy woodpecker leapt out of a tangle of brush onto a trunk about thirty feet away (13). The trails were thick with berry brambles—almost jungle like.
By the time we reached the summit, I’d also seen a herring gull, a murder of cawing crows, and small flocks of waxwings. And the resident Savannah sparrow was singing from the chimney of Beech Nut (18). Tiger swallowtails were dining on the newly bloomed milkweed, and the slopes spread lush and green below us.
I have this thing: I hope to avoid ending my list with a prime number. Typically, I reach the middle teens, at least, so I worry about 17 or 19. If I hit 20, I’m golden—unless I get to 23. But then I’m even more golden.
Cedar waxwing.
Today, as we headed back down into the lower woods, my number had for a while stayed at 18. I’d already heard ovenbird and hermit thrush, a couple of typical singers down there. Would I hear a wood-pewee and get stuck at 19? Well, not exactly, because the next species on my list was a wood thrush—in fact, two of them—singing loudly amid a grove of taller trees. Jack and I even headed off trail a ways (he loves that), but I couldn’t spot the thrush. Which didn’t really surprise me, because I find singing thrushes nearly impossible to spot. I’ve stood and looked for long minutes directly at the direction of their music and never seen its source. We backtracked to the trail and continued on down.
And now I found myself stuck at 19 and hoping for a pewee. But I heard none and resigned myself to having a prime number sort of day.
But a couple hundred yards shy of the parking lot, I heard a sudden whistle of wings? Mourning dove? I scanned the canopy and, sure enough, caught sight of it alighting on a high limb (20). Nice.
And then, coming around the curve by the brook, I heard the faint, sharp note of a rose-breasted grosbeak (21).
I suppose we measure success sometimes in crazy, random ways. But we had a particularly nice time on the hill.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo* (v)
2. Ovenbird* (v)
3. Black-throated green warbler (v)
4. Veery (v)
5. Black-capped chickadee* (v)
6. Cedar waxwing*
7. Eastern towhee
8. Gray catbird*
9. Chestnut-sided warbler
10. Common yellowthroat
11. American goldfinch* (v)
12. American crow*
13. Hairy woodpecker
14. American robin* (v)
15. Hermit thrush (v)
16. Song sparrow* (v)
17. Herring gull
18. Savannah sparrow
19. Wood thrush (v)
20. Mourning dove*
21. Rose-breasted grosbeak (v)
Elsewhere
22. Rock pigeon
23. Chipping sparrow (v)
24. Northern cardinal (v)
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
Tiger swallowtail.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, veery, wood thrush
