Ice.
“If you don’t like the weather, just wait a while”—a stale, old adage, perhaps, but it surely described this day.
Overnight, the temperatures dipped into the 20s (F), the coldest night of the season so far. But dawn revealed an even gray overcast, and the air was calm, and things seemed almost warm, benign. It being Saturday, I figured Jack and I would take our daily Beech Hill walk kind of early for a change.
But I got busy doing this and that, and we didn’t get out until after 10:30. And, lo, by then the sun had come out. In fact, the sky spread cloudlessly above us from horizon to horizon, and a wind had risen. A stunning change. Things suddenly didn’t seem so warm and comfortable.
Red-tailed hawk.
No vehicles in the parking lot when we arrived, which—it being Saturday—sort of surprised me. We hadn’t taken a half-dozen steps up the trail when I heard the crazy-low croak of a raven coming low on the southern slope. Those birds can make some truly peculiar sounds. This one’s voice sound impossibly low, abrupt, almost machine like, with clicks and clocks and gurgles. As we entered the first little clearing, I watched the big black bird fly rapidly ahead of us, bound northeast.
Up and around to the first big climb, and I saw a distant hawk hovering over the hill. My binoculars confirmed it as a redtail. It hovered for a while, did not dive, then veered away to the south. Soon after, we came upon on an ice-encrusted stretch of trail—a place where there’s always runoff from rain. It surely wasn’t freezing still, but this spot had been shaded by the hill. The ice seemed clearly prophetic.
Approaching the summit, I spotted another redtail hovering over the eastern slope. It had to be a different bird. It veered away to the north.
Red leaves.
Then we walked a ways down the opposite trail for a change. This development excited my dog, who has a good memory and has no doubt missed the wooded trails. Chickadees were flitting about down there but not much else, but the hill itself looked bright and spare and beautiful from that direction.
Coming back up, I heard the cry of the resident flicker. I had a feeling it was still hanging around.
Not long after we left the hill, as I ran a few errands, the sky clouded up again—many clouds moving slowly against the blue, much like yesterday’s sky. But before long these, too, moved away.
In afternoon, I made a quick drive to town under a sky suddenly lowery, nearly threatening. In fact, a few raindrops spattered against my windshield. But in the southern distance, I could see clearing. And sure enough, within the hour, the sky was clear again.
It’s still clear tonight. And it’s a coolly bright one: the moon is nearly full.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 10:45 a.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Common raven (voice)
2. Red-tailed hawk
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. Blue jay (voice)
5. Northern flicker (voice)
Elsewhere
6. American crow
7. Herring gull
8. House sparrow
9. Rock pigeon
10. European starling
Beech Nut.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, common raven, European starling, herring gull, house sparrow, northern flicker, red-tailed hawk, rock pigeon
