Yellow-rumped warbler.
Before I’d fully awakened I had an awareness of rain. And as I rolled out of bed, it was pelting the window and roof. The day out there spread gray and bare. Before very long it began to hail.
Pea-sized hail.
Or I guess you could call it hail. Pea-sized. More like jumbo sleet—but it was coming down with a riotous sound, bouncing off the back deck, collecting quickly in corners and pockets. Then came a clap of thunder. And much of the rest of the day had precipitation in it. Oh, a little lull during the noon hour, maybe, but by the time Jack and I got up and out, again there came a chilly drizzle.
I’d heard the house finch, despite the rain. And a house sparrow. Crows had been stalking the roadside. And gulls had been sailing around in the white-gray sky. It was all I could do to keep bundled up and focused on the errands at hand—I didn’t see or hear any of the in-town birds.
But as we headed out Route 17 toward the back way to Rockport Village, I did spot a great blue heron flying over with those stately, slow wingbeats of theirs. As passed the little cow farm, many herring gulls and a couple dozen ring-bills sat in the grass, all facing one way (east). We got to the hill at about 4:30. Looked like no one else had bothered to hike the wooded trails today.
Can’t say as I blame ’em. I had on a few layers of clothing, but still the damp chilliness numbed my fingers. The temperature didn’t get out of the 30s (F), I bet. Thus, I hadn’t come with high expectations, bird-wise—but right away I heard a couple of hermit thrushes singing dueling, magical songs. Also another thrush—a robin. And I heard herring gulls (the wind was coming from the direction the gulls were facing, carrying with it the rush of tires on Route 1 and the moan of a fog whistle). But after those first four quick species, I didn’t hear or see another bird until we neared the foggy summit.
Fog.
That’s when there came the sharp chip! of a warbler in the spruce grove. Was it the palm warbler again? The little bird flitted into a limb above us, and I recognized it as a yell0w-rumped warbler—a first-of-year bird. (I sure didn’t expect that. Crazy.) And then I heard a different sounding chip! and saw a flash of yellow. Sure enough also a palm. The two of them chased each other around a bit. Fellow migrants, or something.
As Jack and I began to circle Beech Nut, I saw another bird flit across the lawn to the little “fairy ring” of rocks out front. A sparrow, hiding behind the rose bushes. Then another. A pair of them. Light-coated, but with specks on their breasts. The first of many savannah sparrows to come.
Considering the dismal weather, the two new birds had already made the hike a success.
Also heard a phoebe and a song sparrow up there. And returning down the soggy lower trail, I caught wind of the faint chattering of a chickadee. Ten species for the second straight day.
Back home, the house finch continued to hold forth. Nothing much else, though. Except—as darkness began to fall—I did hear the faint, comforting notes of a nuthatch coming from somewhere near the nesting cavity.
And later, in darkness, the whistling wings of a woodcock.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:30 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Hermit thrush (voice)
2. American robin (voice)
3. Herring gull (voice)
4. American crow (voice)
5. Yellow-rumped warbler
6. Eastern phoebe (voice)
7. Palm warbler
8. Savannah sparrow
9. Song sparrow (voice)
10. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
Elsewhere
11. House finch
12. House sparrow
13. Great blue heron
14. Ring-billed gull
15. White-breasted nuthatch
16. American woodcock
Tags: American crow, American robin, American woodcock, black-capped chickadee, eastern phoebe, great blue heron, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, palm warbler, ring-billed gull, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, white-breasted nuthatch, yellow-rumped warbler
