|
|
 |
|
|
Posts Tagged ‘northern raven’
Friday, August 26th, 2011
 American kestrel. Sunlight streamed through the blinds this morning. Hardly a cloud in the sky. Got breakfast, got down to my desk. Some Fridays are kind of relaxing, work-wise, but this was not one of those. Unexpected tasks cropped up. Kept me hopping. Finally—as the day warmed to near 80 degrees (F), I’d guess—I decided to go out cycling. But first I had to change my back tire.
 Beech Nut. Not a problem. Lovely day. Not a lot of breeze. Did my usual fast fourteen miles—crows, goldfinches, osprey, gulls—and returned in the glow of endorphins.
Soon after, I closed up shop for the week, grabbed my dog, and made the short drive to Beech Hill. As we turned into the parking lot, a chickadee flitted across the road in front of us. A sign of birdiness, perhaps? Before we’d gone a couple hundred yards, my list had as many birds as yesterday’s. A hairy woodpecker calling across the road was a nice switch. And coming up the open trail, I spotted an osprey flying with a purpose out over the eastern slope. Moments later, another raptor—a kestrel—flew by, closer, in the opposite direction. I watched it dive and soar as it headed down over the south hillside. Nice.
We topped the hill and dipped down to where the blackberries grow. Ate a dozen or so (still a fruitful crop). Then I heard a couple yellowthroats chipping in deep brush. I stood for a good five minutes waiting for one to pop up for a photo, but none would cooperate. However, while I waited, a hummingbird suddenly zipped across at weed-top level, hovered a minute, and moved on.
 Savannah sparrow. Heard a towhee and catbird down there, too. And walking back up and over, I heard a blue jay (nice) and saw a chipping savannah sparrow, And near at the parking lot, as I tried, through binoculars, to ID a warbler flitting about in a tree across the road, a robin flew through my field of view.
And then I heard the croack of a raven. And actually got a look at the big black bird as it flew low from southeast to northwest—where I have a hunch they’ve got a nest. More than three times as many birds on the hill today than yesterday. Were they simply taking advantage of the glorious weather? Or perhaps (also) readying for a coming storm?
Tonight is starry and still. Just about the opposite of the conditions we’re led to expect for two nights from now.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:45 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. American goldfinch (voice)
3. Cedar waxwing
4. Hairy woodpecker (voice)
5. Song sparrow
6. Osprey
7. American kestrel
8. American crow
9. Eastern towhee (voice)
10. Common yellowthroat
11. Gray catbird (voice)
12. Ruby-throated hummingbird
13. Blue jay (voice)
14. Savannah sparrow
15. American robin
16. Northern raven
Elsewhere
17. House sparrow
18. Herring gull
19. Mourning dove
20. Northern cardinal
21. Green heron
 Apple, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 26 August 2011.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American kestrel, American robin, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, gray catbird, green heron, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern raven, osprey, ruby-throated hummingbird, song sparrow
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Saturday, May 8th, 2010
 American robin (nesting female). I almost didn’t head for Beech Hill this morning. I would’ve missed a lot.
The day dawned drizzly, with a chill. We didn’t get to the Rockville Street parking lot until about 7:45 a.m., dog and I. No one else around. I expected the wood to be relatively quiet—quieter than yesterday, surely. As often when I expect things, I was wrong.
 Veery. The light rain stopped just about the time we arrived. Around us echoed the sound of water dripping from new leaves. And, of course, the voice of an ovenbird. This shy, miniature-thrush-like warbler lurks around the forest floor, where it builds a nest like a Dutch oven out of twigs and leaves. I’ve found if you stand very quietly near a nest site, one of the birds will show up on a nearby branch, fluffing its thin orange crest, to check you out—and then begin to walk very slowly away from you. Yes, they actually walk, ovenbirds do. They don’t flit or hop. They put one pink foot in front of the other. Ovenbirds nest all through the wooded side of Beech Hill, where at this time of year you can’t help but hear their ringing, echoing calls of “teacher, teacher, teacher!”
The second-growth rang with the voices of other resident warblers, as well: black-and-white, black-throated green, chestnut-sided, Nashville, common yellowthroat. I heard a number of parulas, too. The heavy, moisture-laden air gave the hillside a reverberant quality, and the sudden lushness of the wood made me think of some gone-by realm of Celts and druids and rekindled my belief that trees have souls.
 Savannah sparrow. It was a place of thrushes. Nesting robins called quietly from young trees along the trail. (I feel a particular kinship with these wilder, woodland robins who steer clear of manicured lawns.) I heard the eerie call of a veery and then managed to photograph the bird. I caught sight of a silent hermit thrush—and listened later to its miraculous, cascading song.
At one point while ascending, I recognized the voice of a rose-breasted grosbeak, another fairly common species on the hill. And later the husky call of a scarlet tanager on the lower wooded trail. Then, coming down the western slope, I heard the wheep! of a great crested flycatcher. Three first-of-year birds today.
On the climb back up the open trail, I added two other warblers: yellow and prairie. Nice to hear the curious rising trill of that latter, not-so-common Beech Hill bird. Then out of nowhere—or somewhere in the gray sky—came the yodel of a loon. It’s not an uncommon sound up there. But what was unusual was when, a little while later, just as I got done photographing a towhee, I saw an in-flight loon (could it have been the same one?) zipping low above the trees in the direction of Chickawaukee Lake. I’d never been so close to a flying loon.
As we descended the wooded slope again, the loud cry of a pileated woodpecker startled both dog and me. The bird was quite close, but we never saw it. Lush, wet, magical woodlands give some creatures the power of invisibility.
 Black-throated green warbler. Beech Hill List
At 7:45 a.m., I walked all trails.
1. Ovenbird (voice)
2. Black-throated green warbler
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. American robin
5. Black-and-white warbler
6. Blue jay (voice)
7. Herring gull (voice)
8. American crow (voice)
9. Tufted titmouse (voice)
10. Chestnut-sided warbler
11. White-throated sparrow
12. Mourning dove
13. Northern parula (voice)
14. Eastern towhee
15. Gray catbird
16. Common yellowthroat
17. Veery
18. Cedar waxwing (voice)
19. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
20. Hermit thrush
21. Northern raven
22. Nashville warbler
23. Song sparrow (voice)
24. Scarlet tanager (voice)
25. Eastern phoebe
26. Savannah sparrow
27. Northern flicker (voice)
28. Great crested flycatcher (voice)
29. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
30. Yellow warbler (voice)
31. Common loon
32. Prairie warbler (voice)
33. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
Elsewhere
34. House finch
35. Double-crested cormorant
36. Brown-headed cowbird
37. Laughing gull
38. Northern cardinal
 Misty hills.
Tags: American crow, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, brown-headed cowbird, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common loon, common yellowthroat, double-crested cormorant, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, laughing gull, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, northern raven, ovenbird, pileated woodpecker, prairie warbler, red-eyed vireo, rose-breasted grosbeak, savannah sparrow, scarlet tanager, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
Thursday, April 15th, 2010
 Beech Nut. Had sun and a chill this morning. A number of birds calling. Drove to an appointment in Thomaston early, but saw no ospreys either way. Birder friends have been spotting all kinds of new migrants, but my fortunes haven’t yet presented me with many. Of course I’m sure that’ll change.
 American robin. Up Beech Hill in late morning with the dog. No harrier, no kestrel. I did hear a flicker and a downy woodpecker. Goldfinches. Song sparrows, Phoebes. Nothing at all sighted at the summit, where a stampede of clouds had mostly obscured the blue. But coming down I heard the ravens—and then saw a small flock of robins. Returning, we came upon a couple turkeys crossing the road.
Buds are budding, insects are emerging from wherever insects emerge from—which, of course, can only mean warblers soon.
Out cycling late in the day, I saw mourning doves, crows, robins, pigeons, gulls. Nothing much out of the ordinary, though. I figure it’s just the lull before the storm.
 American robin. Today’s List
American crow
Song sparrow
Eastern phoebe
House finch
American robin
Herring gull
Tufted titmouse
Black-capped chickadee
American goldfinch
Northern raven
Northern flicker
Downy woodpecker
Wild turkey
Mourning dove
Rock pigeon
Ring-billed gull
 The coastal hills.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-capped chickadee, downy woodpecker, eastern phoebe, herring gull, house finch, mourning dove, northern flicker, northern raven, ring-billed gull, rock pigeon, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, wild turkey
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
|
|
| |
| Bird Report is a (sometimes intermittent) record of the birds I encounter while hiking, see while driving, or spy outside my window. —Brian Willson |
|
|
