Late afternoon sun.
My weather station declared an outside temperature of 12 degrees (F) when I first looked at it this morning. A cold, sunny world out there. Some crazy new drainage scheme had smeared a treacherous swath of ice down the middle of the parking lot, so I heaped (pet-safe) salt on it and moved the pickup to let the sun do its work. A distraction.
Flying squirrel, 12 September 2006.
But by midday or so, the sun had disappeared. Well, of course it didn’t really disappear—let me get my language right—but a blanket of clouds had moved in. (Where’d that come from?) Still, the salt helped with the ice sheet.
I keep thinking of the pair of little critters whose pale underbellies I saw up in the dark branches of the oaks last night—flying squirrels, I feel sure. I had nest of flying squirrels in the north wall of this place a few years ago, and I won’t forget seeing one of them sail like a miracle out of the walls and onto the trunk of a tree while the workers were patching the hole. I got a photo back then of the little rodent with the big black nocturnal eyes. We Mainers don’t often think of the flying squirrels that live among us.
It was late in the day by the time Jack and I took our daily Beech Hill trip. Again we were the only hikers. It wasn’t quite as cold as yesterday, nor was the wind as high. In fact, the air was still. Fairly soon I heard chickadees—at least one bird species today.
Our trip up and down passed uneventfully but for the particularly deep orange color in the southwest sky. The sun appeared like a fiery ghost from behind the clouds. Down the southern slope, I heard crows. And then, unexpectedly, a flicker. Still the hill seemed lonely, though. And barren. And wintry with old snow.
Rockville Ridge.
Later, on a quick trip to town, I saw a few herring gulls is all. Besides an early morning house sparrow, the only other bird.
The new moon this evening set in a veil of clouds. The clouds persisted, and late tonight I was surprised to see a trace of snowfall—new snow covering everything in a fine layer of white.
I heard both foghorns moaning off toward the harbor.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. American crow
3. Northern flicker
Elsewhere
4. House sparrow
5. Herring gull
Young oak.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, herring gull, house sparrow, northern flicker
