Beech Hill, western slope.
Rain this morning. I did not expect it. But I had a ton of desk work to do, so I didn’t much mind. Eventually, the rain stopped, and the Route 1 pavement began to dry. The air temperature seemed outlandishly mild, in fact—maybe upper-50s (F)?
Red squirrel.
While working, I heard jays and crows and squirrels making noise up the hill out back. Finally reached a stopping point, so we took our daily break.
Faint mist hit the windshield en route. No cars in the parking lot when we arrived at Beech Hill. Overcast, calm, misty. Within a few hundred feet I’d heard five species: chickadee, nuthatch, kinglet, titmouse, and crow. Under the achingly gray sky, now that the hardwoods have shed their foliage, the world seemed bare naked. You could see its bones, its shoulder blades. The view as we climbed seemed longer, clearer. I learned a little more today about the visual aspect of the hill—not only the hill, but its surrounds.
And then, suddenly, a harrier. It soared over quickly, left to right—and then must’ve seen Jack’s blaze-orange vest, because it veered swiftly back the way it came. I had my lens-doubler off but snapped off a couple grainy photos anyway. It looked like a young male. I didn’t see it again.
Low white clouds clung to the bay beyond the islands. The resident flicker sent out its sharp call note. Then, coming down, I heard another flicker. Then the two of them, calling to each other, single notes. And then, from a different direction, a third. Three flickers.
Tonight remains calm, warm, and misty. I hear we’ll soon enjoy some heavier rain.
Northern harrier.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 2:30 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
2. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
3. Golden-crowned kinglet (voice)
4. Tufted-titmouse (voice)
5. American crow (voice)
6. Northern harrier
7. Northern flicker (voice)
Elsewhere
8. Blue jay
Birch.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, golden-crowned kinglet, northern flicker, northern harrier, tufted titmouse, white-breasted nuthatch
Since birds don’t perceive color the way we do, I wouldn’t be surprised if the harrier was responding more to the presence of Jack himself than the color of his vest. Canines are a recognizable predator to most birds, whereas not all birds even register “red”–especially a bird that, unlike a hummingbird for example, doesn’t need to recognize red so much as recognize other living creatures that may be either prey or predator. Just my personal theory, though, so take it with a grain of salt.
You know, I’m sure you’re right. In fact, the bird was probably responding more to the presence of me—since I’m bigger than Jack (or the two of us together as some kind of single predatory threat). We froze when I saw it, but it was too late. Wish it would’ve stuck around!