Mourning dove.
Sometimes I wonder about crazy things. Today—at the end of a long day, as Jack and I were finally making our way up Beech Hill—I got to wondering (not for the first time) if I’d rather lose my sight or my hearing. Or, more accurately, which I’d rather keep, if I had to decide. I’m lucky enough to have held onto most of both all these years. And whereas I think most people would choose to keep their eyesight, I sometimes think I’d miss sounds more. Like birdsong.
Common yellowthroat.
Today there was quite a bit of that on the hill—the usual birds, my old pals—including the falsetto shouts of a young raven down in the woods where I presume its nest is. I could hear the raven hollering the whole way up the trail, in fact. I could also hear warblers, vireos, the subtle warbling of a rose-breasted grosbeak. But for a long time I didn’t see a single bird.
Well, that’s not entirely true—I did catch sight of two, each simply dark shapes flitting away so swiftly I couldn’t even hazard an ID. Not until we’d neared the upper fields did I recognize a bird similarly flitting silently away: a flicker. (You can tell from their white rump-patches.)
At the summit, then, I caught sight of a mourning dove perched on a low spruce branch. Then saw one of the Beech Nut savannah sparrow family that we’ve seen dependably every day for a good while. Then, returning, I spotted a pair of yellowthroats, mouths full of leggy insects, protecting their nest from dog and man.
Finally, nearing the parking lot, at our approach I saw the nesting phoebe dart away from its nest.
Savannah sparrow.
Counted nineteen species today. Saw only five. This got me wondering—shouldn’t I save my hearing? But I quickly realized that if I couldn’t make my way up the trail in the first place, what good would hearing do me? On the other hand, Jack’s so familiar with the trail that perhaps he could lead me the whole way. And he probably could. But certainly at nowhere near our usual pace. Even going slowly, I’d be sure to trip over rocks in the trail—heck, I stumble over ’em as it is.
No, I think I’d just as soon keep both senses for as long as I’m able.
Tonight, not long after our return home, a thrilling bank of low dark clouds moved quickly overhead from the southwest. It began to rain—big drops. I smelled petrichor. But it took a while for a brief period of thunder to pass. And not much rain fell after all.
Just now, I hear foghorns.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:45 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
3. Ovenbird (voice)
4. Common raven (voice)
5. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
6. Gray catbird (voice)
7. Cedar waxwing (voice)
8. Veery (voice)
9. American goldfinch (voice)
10. American robin (voice)
11. Eastern towhee (voice)
12. Northern flicker
13. Song sparrow (voice)
14. Common yellowthroat
15. Mourning dove
16. Savannah sparrow
17. American crow (voice)
18. American redstart (voice)
19. Eastern phoebe
Elsewhere
20. House finch
21. Tufted titmouse
22. Herring gull
23. Rock pigeon
24. Osprey
25. House sparrow
26. Chipping sparrow
27. Northern cardinal
Bay (and fly).
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, chipping sparrow, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern flicker, osprey, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery
