Bald eagle.
As birdy as yesterday was, today turned out quite the opposite. Still, auspiciously, during my first stroll out with Jack, when I happened to remember to bring my camera, and as crows flapped and cawed about my place, a solitary adult bald eagle sailed gracefully overhead in the semi-blue sky. I say “semi-blue,” because there was some blue, and some sun, but also some clouds and a chilly wind. Temperature in the low-40s (F), if that.
Staghorn sumac.
Aside from the crows, I heard a house finch calling. And that was about it—until a few minutes later, when (from inside) I heard the strident notes of a pileated woodpecker coming from the hill out back. And I thought, “How lucky am I to live in a place frequented by bald eagles and pileated woodpeckers?”
Today, here in Maine, was Patriot’s Day (observed). Therefore, I didn’t venture to my desk downstairs but worked up here at my kitchen table. Worked there all day, in fact—as the sun faded in and out and the wind whipped around outside—and didn’t manage to tear myself free until late. Jack, who had been napping most of the time, was eager to get going. And so we did. Quick trip to town, then out Route 17 to Beech Hill.
Didn’t see much during our drive—some herring gulls, a mourning dove on a utility line. No ducks or other birds at Chickawaukie Lake, whose surface the wind had roughened, whipping up little whitecaps that looked like ducks. I like that drive because you can get a good look at Beech Nut perched in the distance atop the hill.
Cloud.
We parked, started along the wooded trail at a brisk pace. The wind rushed in my ears and clattered bare tree branches together. Heard no birds, saw no birds until about half-way up, when I caught the faint cries of herring gulls—not coming from their usual direction, but from directly overhead. I spotted three or four of them, in fact, flying way above us. Nearing the summit, I heard the chattering of black-capped chickadees. Looked for the kestrel in the open field, but it wasn’t there. Scanned the hill for harriers: nothing. As we circled Beech Nut, I kept my eye out for the phoebe. No luck.
We’d hiked more than half-way back down along the lower trail before I sensed any trace of another species—when the voice of a phoebe came floating down from the wooded slope to our right. Then I heard a distant crow. Then a nearer, singing robin.
And that was that. Until we’d returned home, and I stepped out on the deck and heard a song sparrow trilling off behind the neighbor’s place. A few crows were still calling, too. Nothing else that I could see or hear—until the sun set, that is, when spring peepers began to sing.
Tonight is overcast. You can just barely sort of see the faint glow of the recently full moon.
Lost-and-found.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Herring gull
2. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
3. Eastern phoebe (voice)
4. American crow (voice)
5. American robin (voice)
Elsewhere
6. House finch
7. Bald eagle
8. Pileated woodpecker
9. Mourning dove
10. Song sparrow
Tags: American crow, American robin, bald eagle, black-capped chickadee, eastern phoebe, herring gull, house finch, mourning dove, pileated woodpecker, song sparrow
