Eastern bluebird.
I love the woods. Just love to be in a forest or woodland, out among the trees. I have loved it for as long as I can remember—or, more particularly, since I was an impressionable nine- or ten-year-old, when my family moved to Durham, North Carolina, and bought a house whose backyard ended in a small section of piny wilderness. This corresponded with my first steps away by myself, my first solo excursions, still near enough to home to return in a hurry. I loved walking through the woods back there, loved the smell, the dimness, the lumps and shapes and vines undergrowth and frogs and snakes and sap-sticky pines. I loved to shimmy up those pines—and even named a tree with double trunks “The Twin Angels.” My parents had long since given up on making me and my sister go to Sunday School, and so the woods became my rightful church. Quiet, mysterious, a place to worship the miracle of life on a tilted planet.
Hermit thrush (immature).
Don’t you be talking too loudly when deep in the woods, because it’s still church for me.
Today began with rain and brightened briefly before turning overcast again. I had early work to do, so Jack and I didn’t make it to Beech hill until mid-afternoon, and by that time, a misty fog was rolling in. I decided to take the lower wooded trail to the summit—the darkest trail, with the tallest trees, most like the inside of a cathedral.
Right away I heard the miraculous song of a hermit thrush—and even saw the singing bird.
Soon after, as I’d stopped to scan for a calling a redstart, a female black-and-white warbler flitted to a branch so near that I couldn’t focus my camera on her. What a lovely, silent bird.
Also got a look at a speckled young thrush whose identity I’m still not sure of.
As we left the woods for the open fields, the mist began to rise, and my birding became a matter of listening. Heard another cuckoo. Heard yellowthroats, alder flycatchers, waxwings. Down toward the road, I got a good glimpse of a bluebird.
Returning through the woods we surprised a family of downy woodpeckers. I believe one was a youngster, and its mother was not amused.
Wild rose.
It began to rain a little when we arrived back at the truck. But it didn’t really start coming down until we were driving home.
Just another perfect day.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 2:30 p.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo** (v)
2. Common yellowthroat**
3. Ovenbird
4. Black-throated green warbler (v)
5. Great crested flycatcher (v)
6. Veery
7. Hermit thrush**
8. American goldfinch (v)
9. Chestnut-sided warbler**
10. Black-and-white warbler
11. American crow* (v)
12. Gray catbird**
13. Eastern towhee
14. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
15. Black-capped chickadee (v)
16. American redstart (v)
17. Blackburnian warbler
18. Gray catbird**
19. Eastern phoebe** (v)
20. Cedar waxwing
21. House finch (v)
22. Savannah sparrow
23. Yellow warbler** (v)
24. Alder flycatcher (v)
25. Field sparrow (v)
26. Black-billed cuckoo (v)
27. American robin** (v)
28. Blue jay** (v)
29. Chipping sparrow (v)
30. Purple finch (v)
31. Eastern bluebird
32. Song sparrow**
33. Tufted titmouse (v)
34. Northern flicker
35. Downy woodpecker
Elsewhere
36. Herring gull
37. Northern cardinal (v)
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
**Voice only elsewhere
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-billed cuckoo, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blackburnian warbler, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, downy woodpecker, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, field sparrow, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, northern cardinal, northern flicker, ovenbird, purple finch, red-eyed vireo, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, yellow warbler
