On account of it being spring migration, I get to Beech Hill pretty early these days, usually about six a.m. Today I didn’t get there until 6:30, but it was still nice and quiet. Quieter than usual, in fact, without Jack’s jingling tags. (I left him at home with our visiting friend Boone, who’s a rather dark-coated canine for a walk in the tick-infested woods.) Quiet except for the voices of birds, I mean. Let me describe some of the sounds you’re liable to hear on an early morning hike up a coastal hill here on the 44th parallel.
Right away you’ll hear the warblers, several species: the ringing teacher, teacher, teacher! of the ovenbird, the rising buzzy hiccup of the Northern Parula, the cyclic witchity-witchity-witchity! of the Common Yellowthroat. Then you’ll likely make out some short, clipped whistles separated by pauses; these belong to the Blue-headed Vireo. You’ll hear the clear, sweet Please, please, pleased to meet you! of the Chestnut-sided Warbler, and the cyclic weesa-weesa-weesa of the Black-and-White Warbler. In the near distance, you’ll hear the Eastern Towhee’s declarative Drink your tea!
And you’ll hear more subtle calls, like those random squeaks and chatterings coming from somewhere in the brambles, proof that a Gray Catbird lurks down there like an old man muttering to himself. Or the subtle, disjointed whistles of a Rose-breasted Grosbeak—a sound that carries a lot farther than seems possible.
You’ll find that many faint (to human ears) birdsongs carry a long way when you stop to listen closely and gauge distances. It’s no wonder individual species can pick out just the sound they’re attuned to hearing.
Depending on the weather exactly day in May, you’ll hear other natural sounds, such as the one I heard a couple mornings ago, when a slight breeze ruffled the very new leaves on the poplar. It sounded like a sigh. Woodpeckers are still drumming: the rat-a-tat, tat, tat, tat of a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker; the rapid paradiddle of a Downy Woodpecker; the loud beats of a Pileated Woodpecker, which sort of trickle off at the end. If you pay really close attention, you might hear (or feel in your chest) the low, breathy booming of a Ruffed Grouse, which also speeds up as it progresses.
This past week there’s been road work happening at Route 1 about three miles away, and they’ve been starting early, and you can hear the distant clang and boom of dump trucks and earth-moving machines. Then, as morning progresses, you’ll hear the whistle of a Rockland train.
When I heard the train whistle this morning, I thought of how many of our modern sounds—the rush of car tires on blacktop, the blatterings of semi engines, the drone of planes overhead—are really so very recent, and how we no longer hear sounds that were so familiar to generations of humans before us. Like the clatter of horses’ hooves on cobbles or lowing of working oxen. But we do have in common the distant barkings of dogs.
Curiously, my best bird sighting of the day was a silent one. I’d been standing on the trail peering up into the swiftly thickening canopy in the direction of a singing Black-throated Green Warbler, when a large brown bird popped up onto a nearby branch. A female Rose-breasted Grosbeak. As I stood motionless, she fluttered nearer, poking about in the new green buds.
Spring birding to me is mostly a listening experience, but occasionally you do have to rely on your eyes.
Beech Hill Preserve
Beginning at 6:30 a.m., I hiked all trails (and at 2:30 p.m., I hiked the open trail again).
1. Tufted Titmouse
2. Ovenbird
3. Black-throated Green Warbler
4. Northern Parula
5. Chestnut-sided Warbler
6. Blue-headed Vireo
7. Black-capped Chickadee
8. Common Yellowthroat
9. Black-and-White Warbler
10. American Robin
11. Eastern Towhee
12. Gray Catbird
13. American Redstart
14. Rose-breasted Grosbeak
15. American Goldfinch
16. Nashville Warbler
17. Northern Flicker
18. Least Flycatcher
19. American Crow
20. Veery
21. Blue Jay
22. Pileated Woodpecker
23. Ruby-throated Hummingbird
24. Brown-headed Cowbird
25. Field Sparrow
26. Eastern Phoebe
27. Song Sparrow
28. Common Loon
29. Savannah Sparrow
30. Wood Thrush
31. Mourning Dove
32. White-throated Sparrow
33. Herring Gull
34. House Finch
35. Northern Cardinal
36. Yellow Warbler
37. Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
38. Hermit Thrush
39. Black-throated Blue Warbler
40. Blackburnian Warbler
41. White-breasted Nuthatch
42. Great Crested Flycatcher
43. Osprey
44. Tree Swallow (v)
45. Scarlet Tanager†
Elsewhere
46. House Sparrow
47. Broad-winged Hawk
48. Red-tailed Hawk
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
*Voice only elsewhere
†First-of-year bird
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blackburnian warbler, blue jay, blue-headed vireo, broad-winged hawk, brown-headed cowbird, chestnut-sided warbler, common loon, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, field sparrow, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, least flycatcher, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, osprey, ovenbird, pileated woodpecker, red-tailed hawk, rose-breasted grosbeak, ruby-throated hummingbird, savannah sparrow, scarlet tanager, song sparrow, tree swallow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-breasted nuythatch, white-throated sparrow, wood thrush, yellow warbler, yellow-bellied sapsucker




