Blowing snow.
Another bright, sunny morning. A bright, sunny, cold morning. A cold morning. A freakin’ cold morning. I think I saw my outside thermometer hovering in the single digits (F). And judging by the feel of the air when Jack and I first stepped out, I’d say that was fairly accurate.
Beech Hill.
Plus, we had a little breeze. The resident crows flapped around, cawing. I figure all their flapping and cawing was a way to warm themselves up a bit maybe. And the house sparrows across the road were making some noise—from within the thick protective branches of the evergreen hedges, I’m pretty sure. Also heard a chickadee. As every, happy-sounding. Our undauntedly optimistic state bird.
In town, wearing many layers, I spotted herring gulls, and a few small, graceful ring-bills, and a collection of rock pigeons huddling on the sunny southern roof of the old Van Baalen’s building.
No clouds in the cold, blue winter sky. On the way out Route 17 to Beech Hill this afternoon, I looked over to see four or five mallards rise and fly swiftly out over the frozen surface of Chickawaukie Lake. The hill, when we arrived, was wide and vacant and frozen. Someone else had walked up today before us—just one person, looked like from the tracks. Coming up around the first turn by the gate, I heard the frantic chatter of hairy woodpeckers. Then I saw the birds: two of them chasing in an arc above the treetops across the road, chattering as they flew. I heard a third bird calling from a short distance away. I imagine the chasing woodpeckers were males vying for the attention of the third bird.
Jack's shadow.
Ascending up the lower, relatively protected half of the trail, a fairly strong wind helped push us up from behind. Jack felt the cold of the snow in his paws, I could tell, but shook it off. By the time we reached the heights, the wind had become powerful. Considering a temperature still hovering in the teens, we had to endure a bit of a wind chill. (I noticed that our tracks from the past few days, in fact, had become elevated, as the constant wind had swept away the surrounding, fluffy snow.) Then circling the final curve, as usual, we turned directly into the northwest wind.
Um, ouch?
So we didn’t stay up there long. Jack seemed as eager as I to get away from the unprotected summit in a hurry. Such a sunny, blue-sky day—in fact, I did see some high, vague clouds off over the bay—and yet so frigid. Possibly the coldest hike this winter so far.
But we managed. And the chill of the upper reaches made the cold, still lower trail seem almost balmy. Another hiker pulled his car in just as we were leaving. He asked about the trail conditions. No snowshoes required, says I. Just crunchy, lumpy, icy snow.
Paw prints.
Tonight I watched Jupiter set fairly early out back behind the hillside oaks. Orion’s still high, though. Which means it must still be winter.
That said, this weekend I hear-tell we’re supposed to get some rain.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:15 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Hairy woodpecker
Elsewhere
2. American crow
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. House sparrow
5. Herring gull
6. Ring-billed gull
7. Rock pigeon
8. Mallard
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, house sparrow, mallard, ring-billed gull, rock pigeon
