Northern flicker.
To bed early, up late. Go figure. Suffice it to say Jack and I pulled into the Beech Hill parking lot at the ungodly quarter-hour of 7:15 a.m. An overcast day. The roads were wet—some rain had passed by—but the trail was dry enough.
Common yellowthroat.
The common birds made their presence known vocally. Until about half-way up, my actual visual sightings amounted to a single female yellowthroat chipping at me from within an apple tree. Thanks to the day’s dimness and the length of my lens, I shouldn’t have even bothered with a photo—but I figured I’d try a flash shot. The picture looked like it’d been taken by a paparazzo.
And then came a troubling distraction—evidence of a mountain biker. Since the little flurry of biking incidents a few weeks ago, the powers-that-be erected signs at all the trails’ access points: no bicycles allowed. These were the first tire tracks I’d seen since then. And I couldn’t help but seethe a little. I mean, either the cyclist was a kid who didn’t pay attention to rules, or he was an adult who didn’t pay attention to rules, or he was illiterate. Basically, the cyclist didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, his fun, the thrilling feeling of bounding and veering down a wooded trail. And I can even dig that, to a point. But the goal of a life isn’t simply to have as much fun as possible—is it? Or have I simply become an ignorant old fuddy-duddy?
Tire tracks and thoughts of the mountain biker who left them accompanied me along the upper wooded trail. A nagging, troubling distraction.
But then, about half-way up, coming into an open green copse, I heard the breath of wings and told Jack, “Wait.” And we stopped and watched the birds settle out.
Towhees, several. A couple chickadees. A small flock of waxwings above and behind us. Yellowthroats somewhere. And a solitary flicker in a small tree straight ahead. We stood there about five minutes—I, waiting for the flicker to emerge, Jack quietly eating grass—until I got a half-way decent photo. But I loved those five minutes. The close comfort of the overcast, the feel of standing quietly in the company of a dozen birds. Those few moments might actually have been the highlight of my day.
Summit trail.
Only nine species by the time I hit the summit fields, though, and then (finally) the first alder flycatcher. No phoebes. No chestnut-sideds. No chippy down by the gate. N0 cuckoo or titmouse or cardinal or hummingbird. No veery or black-and-white warbler. Most species must be concentrating on safely raising their young. And a mountain biker doesn’t give a damn about the rules.
Coming back up over the summit, I turned my binoculars to the bay and spotted a herring gull flapping nonchalantly along, north to south. I figured at least I’d make it to twenty species. Still no phoebe at the top, but I did hear the high-pitched tseet! of a white-throated sparrow. Then descending the lower wooded trail, there came the sharp alarm notes of ovenbirds (and I even got a visual). Nuthatches down there also, a little below.
And then, coming around through berry brambles fairly close to the trailhead, I heard a loud chip!—which I recognized at once. Sure enough, a female chestnut-sided warbler. Young nearby, no doubt. Species No. 23 for the day.
The chip! of the chestnut-sided got me thinking about how many chip notes I can positively identify. Quite a few by now, I’d say: chestnut-sided, yellowthroat, and yellow warblers; white-throated and song sparrow; cardinal and rose-breasted grosbeak. I can tell the peep! of an alder flycatcher from the similar note of a phoebe. And I can ID the subtle pip-pip of a ruby-throated hummingbird near the nest.
Not a lot of birds today, but plenty of things to think on.
Wood frog.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American crow (voice)
2. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. Eastern towhee
5. Common yellowthroat
6. Gray catbird
7. Cedar waxwing
8. American robin (voice)
9. Northern flicker
10. Alder flycatcher (voice)
11. Savannah sparrow
12. Hermit thrush (voice)
13. Field sparrow (voice)
14. Blue jay (voice)
15. Yellow warbler (voice)
16. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
17. Song sparrow
18. Mourning dove (voice)
19. Herring gull
20. White-throated sparrow (voice)
21. Ovenbird
22. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
23. Chestnut-sided warbler
Elsewhere
24. House sparrow
25. Rock pigeon
26. Northern cardinal
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American robin, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, field sparrow, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern flicker, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
