7 November 2026

Patriotism

Monday, July 4th, 2011
Common yellowthroat, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 04 July 2011.

Common yellowthroat.

Patriotism, Texas naturalist Roy Bedichek wrote, is “a love of country (and by country I mean country, rocks, soil, creeks, rivers, hills, and valleys), not flag and a lot of gaseous intangibles. There is no patriotism without love of your physical environment just as there is no romantic love without a love of the physical body of some individual woman.”

Savannah sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 04 July 2011.

Savannah sparrow.

And here it is the Fourth of July. Flags are waving, although fog has postponed until tomorrow night a couple of fireworks extravaganzas, in Camden and Thomaston. Oh, well.

I remember just where I was thirty-five years ago today—that is, what I was doing, which was returning from my first-ever trip to Maine back to my hometown of Austin. It was a memorable trip on a day of extravagant bicentennial celebrations all over this land of rocks, soil, creeks, rivers, hills. Today I sat at a table and worked at a computer and looked out and watched this hot, humid day threaten—but fail—to bring thundershowers through. I heard the phoebe chattering out back again and presumed that the fledglings have been drawn to return to their little home above the window, an instinct the parents were loudly discouraging. Seems all creatures feel attachment to their homes.

It wasn’t until late in the day when dog and I managed to visit our particular favorite natural feature hereabouts, Beech Hill. Blue jays were screaming as we hopped out of the pickup. I got a glimpse of the resident phoebe quietly flitting off its nest at the trailhead, and then came the voices of the usual vireos, warblers, thrushes.

Mourning dove (and unidentified insect), Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 04 July 2011.

Mourning dove (and unidentified insect).

And again I heard the cries of a young raven off down through the woods where I’ve guessed the nest is. I wonder if this young bird—presuming it’s one of the family I saw a couple days ago in the sky above the summit—also felt driven to return to that particular place it knows and loves.

Patriotic yellowthroats were protecting their territories along the brushy edges of the trail. One male carried a plump green caterpillar in its beak. I must’ve seen or heard a half dozen of the little warblers, if not more.

At Beech Nut, Jack and I met some neighbors for the first time—neighbors who happened also to think this day a perfect one for a Beech Hill hike. We watched the family of savannah sparrows hop around on the rock walls around Beech Nut. I spotted one of the Beech Nut phoebes, as well, along with a mourning dove. Song sparrows, yellow warblers, catbirds, and yellowthroats all sang out their lusty national anthems.

Down in the woods on our return, I heard hermit thrush, a parula, and a black-throated green warbler. Chickadees were hidden away, apparently. A solitary crow flew across the sky somewhere above the canopy, cawing.

Common yellowthroat, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 04 July 2011.

Common yellowthroat.

Tonight, for lack of fireworks, I’ve taken a couple trips out onto the back deck to watch near fireflies and far stars.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:45 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.

1. Blue jay (voice)
2. Eastern phoebe
3. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
4. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
5. Ovenbird (voice)
6. Veery (voice)
7. Common yellowthroat
8. American redstart (voice)
9. American crow (voice)
10. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
11. American goldfinch
12. Common raven (voice)
13. Eastern towhee (voice)
14. Black-and-white warbler (voice)
15. Cedar waxwing
16. Song sparrow (voice)
17. Gray catbird
18. American robin
19. Yellow warbler (voice)
20. Savannah sparrow
21. Mourning dove
22. Hermit thrush (voice)
23. Northern parula (voice)
24. Black-throated green warbler (voice)

Elsewhere

25. House finch
26. Tufted titmouse
27. House sparrow
28. Herring gull
29. Ring-billed gull
30. Northern cardinal

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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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