6 March 2026

May Day

Sunday, May 1st, 2011
Swamp sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, 01 May 2011.

Swamp sparrow.

As soon as I grew aware of sunlight angling through the blinds, I jumped out of bed. After yesterday’s big day, I could hardly wait to start up the wooded Beech Hill trail.

Yellow-rumped warbler, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 01 May 2011.

Yellow-rumped warbler.

The morning was sunnier than yesterday but also cooler. A bit of a breeze. Phoebes watching their nest out back, house sparrows across the road. Jack and I got to the hill at about 6:15. I hopped out of the truck expecting many voices—but what a difference a day makes. No ovenbirds or black-throated greens singing. No warblers of any kind that I could hear. A flicker. Chickadee. Goldfinch. The phoebe nesting under the kiosk (don’t tell anyone!) flitted out as we started up the trail.

Perhaps it was the chill, or perhaps the wind—a fairly stout north wind, which I assume could’ve proved daunting to northbound birds. Still I did hear (then, later, see) crows. Heard (then later saw) herring gulls. Towhees, of course. And white-throated sparrows again—another great batch of them chipping and singing from multiple locations. But the bird voices were intermittent, as opposed to yesterday’s big jumble of sound. A robin singing. Then a song sparrow. Then an unfamiliar call—which I got to thinking sounded a lot like yesterday’s unfamiliar call (though also different). Sure enough, I got a brief glimpse of the little ruby-crowned kinglet it was coming from.

A black-and-white warbler. (First warbler, finally!) Then a distant mourning dove. As we rounded the place where the upper trail opens onto a (seasonal) view of the bay, I saw a kestrel fly over. Then heard the screams of a roving band of jays.

Eastern towhee, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 01 May 2011.

Eastern towhee.

On toward the top, yellow-rumps began showing up. Not as many as yesterday, but still a load of ‘rumps. Coming into the upper fields, I heard a yellowthroat and saw a turkey vulture soar over, not once flapping its wings. Many more ‘rumps. Also the voices of tree swallows and a nuthatch. Coming over the summit, I saw one of the pair of resident phoebes. Then began to hear the sparrows of the blueberry barrens: savannah and field. We walked swiftly into the wind down the open trail.

During our brisk walk, I watched three or four savannahs chase each other over the northern field, emitting their little rattles of challenge. Down toward Beech Hill Road, I heard the chipping sparrow again, and a titmouse, and a purple finch. Also, the jays seemed to have followed us down. (One had an odd, screechy voice.) Descending along the road, I first heard—then saw—a pair of red-wings fly over, one of them flashing its brilliant epaulets. Heard (then saw) a couple palm warblers. At the far end of our hike, a pair of downy woodpeckers engaged in a sort of vocal challenge across the parking lot.

Returning up along the road, I saw and was hoping to photograph a yell0wthroat, when a hermit thrush jumped up onto a nearby branch. Sometimes you seek one prize when another presents itself.

Hermit thrush, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 01 May 2011.

Hermit thrush.

We headed back over the breezy summit, where a kestrel hovered over the western fields and a goldfinch sang from a solitary twig. As we reached the junction of the wooded trails, just as I was stalking a singing black-and-white, I heard a familiar human voice coming up the lower trail. My friends Kristen and Ron were headed up with binoculars at the ready. We chatted for a moment as a kestrel perched on a snag, apparently eating something, before going in our separate directions.

Not a lot happening down the lower trail, but as we passed the vernal pool, I saw ripples and stopped. Two mallards dabbling down there. Both males.

I heard the distant cry of a pileated woodpecker, then soon after came upon a pair of palm warblers darting about in the undergrowth. As I was just missing a couple of great photos of one of the birds (it had teed up in plain sight, but my trigger finger wasn’t fast enough) I spotted another little bird with a brilliant reddish cap sneaking around just a few feet away. That bird proved more cooperative, photo-wise. And turned out to be an adult swamp sparrow in rich breeding plumage—I’m pretty sure only the second one I’ve seen up there.

Sometimes you seek one prize when another presents itself.

Palm warbler, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 01 May 2011.

Palm warbler.

Around the curve, still chasing down a palm photo, I heard someone walking up behind us. It proved to be Ed, a fell0w bird whom I’ve spoken to three or four times on the hill over the past couple-three years. We had a nice chat about Point Pelee (where he’s soon headed) and other hotspots before parting company.

Back home, the phoebes were watchful. A brown-headed cowbird called from high in the oaks. House sparrows were chirping somewhere next door. And before nightfall, up the hill out back, I heard the intermittent gobbles of a turkey.

A starry, starry sky out there just now. I imagine I’ll be up early again tomorrow.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.

1. Northern flicker
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. American goldfinch
4. Eastern phoebe
5. American crow
6. Herring gull
7. Eastern towhee
8. White-throated sparrow
9. American robin
10. Song sparrow
11. Ruby-crowned kinglet
12. Black-and white warbler
13. Mourning dove (voice)
14. American kestrel
15. Blue jay
16. Yellow-rumped warbler
17. Common yell0wthroat
18. Turkey vulture
19. White-breasted nuthatch (voice)
20. Tree swallow
21. Field sparrow
22. Savannah sparrow
23. Tufted titmouse (voice)
24. Hermit thrush
25. Chipping sparrow (voice)
26. Purple finch (voice)
27. Red-winged blackbird
28. Palm warbler
29. Downy woodpecker
30. Mallard
31. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
32. Swamp sparrow

Elsewhere

33. House finch
34. Brown-headed cowbird
35. House sparrow
36. Wild turkey

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Bird Report is a (sometimes intermittent) record of the birds I encounter while hiking, see while driving, or spy outside my window. —Brian Willson



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