Kestrel in spruce.
It was a nice morning, a warm morning, and hazy, with crickets. Thanks to the early time of day, plenty of bird species made themselves known straight away—the usual suspects until we got just about half-way to the summit, when a disturbance in the brush caught dog’s and my attention.
Kestrel on snag.
First I caught a glimpse of a dark fowl stepping down the slope. A ruffed grouse, I felt sure. Then another bird exploded through the understory, headed southwest. Then I heard a faint peeping and a third bird—not a small juvenile, but possibly a juvenile—appeared for a moment or two down where I’d seen the first bird. Then a fourth exploded through the understory headed northeast. We hung around for about a minute, in case a photo was forthcoming. None was.
On up the hill as the air cleared some, leaving overhead a clear empty blue.
A black-billed cuckoo began to call off in the wood: cu-cu-cu, cu-cu-cu. Such a subtle yet insistent call. I heard another calling not long after—at least I assume it was another bird and not the original, having been trailing us up the hill.
At the summit I saw a couple mourning doves flying up over to Beech Nut. Then a third, but it didn’t look quite like the other two. And then it began to hover: a kestrel, a sparrow hawk, our smallest falcon. I watched the bird hover for a moment then head down over the hill. To the left of me, down a blueberry barren, a field sparrow sang.
Common yellowthroat (female).
As we came back up on our return trip, I saw that the kestrel was still there. In fact, it sat on the edge of Beech Nut’s sod roof. Then it fluttered up to the chimney. Then it flapped over to the spruce grove, alighting up top. By this time, the little birds had gone mostly silent.
Over the course of the next five or ten minutes, I got as many photos of the kestrel as I could. I love those little guys. This one seemed perfectly comfortable at the summit of the hill.
Coming back down the wooded trail, I heard the first all-out ovenbird song in weeks, seems like. That was a gas. Then I heard an unfamiliar warbler and stopped to check. Took at least two or three minutes to get a good look at the bird—a black-and-white warbler, singing an unfamiliar late-summer alternate song.
Finally, just as we emerged back into the parking lot, I heard the chattering call of a pileated woodpecker. That sure ended things with an interrobang.
Tonight we were visited by a luscious, raucous thunderstorm. In its wake, in the clear black dome, Jupiter hung bright in the southeast sky.
Two islands.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. American crow (voice)
2. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
3. American goldfinch
4. Cedar waxwing
5. Eastern towhee
6. Gray catbird
7. Eastern phoebe
8. Black-capped chickadee
9. Common yellowthroat
10. Ruffed grouse
11. American robin
12. Blue jay
13. Black-billed cuckoo (voice)
14. White-throated sparrow (voice)
15. Song sparrow
16. Mourning dove
17. American kestrel
18. Savannah sparrow
19. Field sparrow (voice)
20. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
21. Yellow warbler (voice)
22. Hermit thrush (voice)
23. Hairy woodpecker
24. Northern flicker (voice)
25. Tree swallow
26. Ovenbird (voice)
27. Black-and-white warbler
28. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
Elsewhere
29. Herring gull
30. House sparrow
31. Double-crested cormorant
32. Osprey
Hovering kestrel.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American kestrel, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-billed cuckoo, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, double-crested cormorant, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, field sparrow, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern flicker, osprey, ovenbird, pileated woodpecker, red-eyed vireo, ruffed grouse, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
