Green frog.
I first set foot in Maine in early summer thirty-five years ago. I’d flown up from Texas as a very young man. Stepped out a small plane at the Know County Regional Airport at Owls Head and into a sun-drenched late-afternoon. I’ll never forget the first thought that popped into my head: “Wow. Outdoor air-conditioning.”
Face it, you don’t need air-conditioning here. The air’s already conditioned.
Black-and-white warbler.
After a couple-three days of hot (for northern New England) days, this one dawned cool. I figure it was last night’s low-pressure system moving through that cleared out the heat and humidity, but what a difference. The birds didn’t seem phased—still the usual suspects singing and flitting around—but Jack and I sure noticed. I flipped off my fan, and he stopped panting.
While getting a bunch of desk work done, I looked occasionally out the windows at the full, green boughs of the oaks and maples swaying in what appeared a pretty strong breeze. The flags at the Claddagh Motel across the road suggested it was a northerly one. In mid-afternoon I hopped on my bicycle for the ninth straight day. A nice, swift ride—with a few detours around road work and crazy traffic—but with a lot less perspiration than yesterday’s. Heard robins, miscellaneous warblers, a cardinal. Saw gulls and roadside crows. At one point in town, a car pulled out of a driveway directly in my path, the driver hoping to force his way into traffic. I had to jam on my brakes to veer around behind him. “Thanks a lot,” says I. “No problem,” he tells me. (Communication via sarcasm.)
Jack and I got to Beech Hill about 5:30. The breeze had faded. Birds were singing—including a rose-breasted grosbeak and a particularly vocal black-and-white warbler. Heard the subtle peep! of an alder flycatcher. Heard or saw most all the other resident birds. At Beech Nut, we ran into my fellow land trust volunteers Lynn and David having a little evening picnic with friends. We chatted for quite a while about the voices of birds and our favorite Beech Hill sightings. (Lynn mentioned seeing snow buntings; I was envious.) Then dog and I headed back down.
American robin (juvenile).
Spotted one of this year’s young robins coming around the corner at the upper fields. There I also heard a yellow warbler for a change. And redstart. (It sounds funny to say that, considering these two warbler species are so abundant up there—and so vocal in late spring—but they’ve been quiet recently.) About half-way down, a tiny frog hopped across the trail right at my feet. I worried, in fact, that I might’ve stepped on it. But I hadn’t. Got a photo. Back home I checked online for photos yet couldn’t positively identify it; a Facebook friend assured me it was a green frog. It was a tiny, cute little thing.
Tonight the moon hangs full in a clear night sky. The air is cool, cool. Good sleeping weather.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:30 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
3. Veery
4. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
5. Eastern towhee
6. American goldfinch
7. Black-and-white warbler
8. Gray catbird (voice)
9. Ovenbird (voice)
10. Cedar waxwing
11. Common yellowthroat
12. Alder flycatcher (voice)
13. Song sparrow (voice)
14. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
15. Mourning dove
16. Eastern phoebe
17. American crow (voice)
18. Savannah sparrow
19. American robin
20. Yellow warbler (voice)
21. American redstart (voice)
22. Hermit thrush (voice)
23. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
Elsewhere
24. House finch
25. Tufted titmouse
26. Herring gull
27. Northern cardinal
Tags: alder flycatcher, American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, mourning dove, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, yellow warbler
