Common yellowthroat (female).
Awoke briefly last night to the sound of thunder, as a little electric storm blew through. And before rolling out of bed this morning I heard the rush of tires on wet pavement. Drizzly. Got up, got breakfast, took dog out in the rain.
Penobscot Bay.
Then I took care of some interesting desk work at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. I got kind of mired in it, in fact—that is, until I heard the roll of more thunder, as another storm rumbled past. Not long after, yet another thundershower came, and the sky opened up in a bona fide cloudburst. (For the first time I sort of got how that word came to be.) More work (not bad), then, finally, it was time to get out and about.
Grabbed Jack, and we headed to town to tackle a couple small errands before driving up to Beech Hill.
Frankly, I wasn’t really looking forward to today’s hike. It was still a little drizzly. Gloomy. Dark. But I soon heard vireos (missing altogether from yesterday’s visit). And a distant crow. And a veery. Then another veery. (Veeries have been the most vocal species up there the past couple days.) Coming around the curve through the poplar stand, I heard the song of a black-and-white warbler, and we stopped so I could scan for it. Pretty sure I caught sight of it, even, but the light was dim and the bird was distant. And during the minute or two we stood there, I heard a flurry of other calls: chickadee, goldfinch, catbird, towhee, song sparrow, robin, and hairy woodpecker. Surprising.
On up the hill, as several other voices filtered down—including the eerie whine of a young raven. Then, suddenly, a commotion in a little thicket right alongside the trail. The flap of wings against brush and the thump of feet. It was a large bird. I even felt the ground tremble a little as it fled. Had to be a turkey.
Berry blossoms.
And for the first time in a while I heard an alder flycatcher—its faint, alternate call and peep notes.
At the summit, I didn’t see the resident savannah sparrow or phoebe. I did spot some gulls out toward Chickawaukie Lake, though, and heard a yellow warbler. Blue-gray clouds hovered low over the bay.
Coming back down through the first little wooded patch, a yellowthroat began to holler at us. A female. We froze (of course), and the bird flitted like crazy through the limbs of a low tree not ten feet away—with what looked like a great mass of spiders in its beak. We stood between the bird and its nest, I’m pretty sure. An unexpected photo opportunity.
Added a few more species before hike’s end. Twenty-four in all.
Surprising.
Tonight the world remains wet and drippy. But there are fireflies.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. American crow (voice)
3. Ovenbird (voice)
4. Veery
5. American redstart (voice)
6. Chestnut-sided warbler
7. Black-and-white warbler
8. Black-capped chickadee
9. American goldfinch (voice)
10. Gray catbird
11. Eastern towhee
12. Song sparrow
13. American robin (voice)
14. Hairy woodpecker (voice)
15. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
16. Common yellowthroat
17. Common raven (voice)
18. Wild turkey
19. Alder flycatcher (voice)
20. Yellow warbler
21. Herring gull
22. Hermit thrush (voice)
23. Northern parula (voice)
24. Northern flicker (voice)
Elsewhere
25. House finch
26. Tufted titmouse
27. European starling
28. House sparrow
29. Eastern phoebe
30. Northern cardinal
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, chestnut-sided warbler, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, European starling, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, wild turkey, yellow warbler
