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Posts Tagged ‘gray catbird’
Tuesday, September 7th, 2010
 Chestnut-sided warbler (juvenile). Didn’t hike the hill this morning. After the long, busy holiday weekend, I thought sleeping until 7:30 seemed more important. Apparently, Jack did, too. But we couldn’t stay away long, and after work, Beech Hill is where we headed.
 Black-capped chickadee. A late afternoon hike is a lot different from an early morning hike. For one thing, the chances of meeting other humans rises considerably. (E.g., an empty white van greeted us in the Rockville Street parking lot.) For another, the birds are tuckered out and not particularly active and, basically, ready to roost. (No hint of a bird for several minutes.) But after a mostly overcast day—one in which a few rain showers passed very near to the north of us—the sky had cleared by 5 p.m., and the angular afternoon sunlight lit the strange, other sides of the trees along the trail.
Chickadee was the first bird. Heard a few about five minutes in. Then a yellowthroat chipped—and actually sang. Then, maybe a third of the way up, I saw the shape of a plain-looking bird flitting in the undergrowth up ahead; binoculars revealed this to be a red-eyed vireo with a berry in its bill.
Heard a blue jay and a catbird. Heard waxwings overhead. Then, nearing the summit, the first little gang of chickadees showed up—in fact, I’m not sure it was more than just one solitary chickadee—so I stopped to look around. Sure enough, a yellow-rump and a chestnut-sided warbler were hopping about in the scrubby trees near where the chickadee was hanging upside down and raiding a tangled spider web surrounding a little dead branch.
Then came sparrows. A solo savannah still zipping around the open trail—or had arrived in migration to zip around. White-throats and song sparrows remain.
Heard the subtle single-n0te cu! call of black-billed cuckoos at three places on the hill. Heard towhees in the distance. Heard crows.
 Chestnut-sided warbler (juvenile). Coming up, we ran into an athletic young fellow with a leashless dog who growled at Jack. Headed over, we ran into a friendly couple coming up the clear trail. Returning, we saw a mother and her toddler at the summit. On our return trip down the lower wooded trail, I heard the voice of a pewee. Then the voice of a hairy woodpecker. Then a goldfinch. And finally, nearing the parking lot, the urgent chip notes of a cardinal.
And that was that. A nice afternoon hike.
But I couldn’t help wondering about all the silent, hidden birds we didn’t run into up there today. Turkeys, grouse, three or four other species of warbler (at least). Thrushes—robin, veery, hermit, and maybe wood. Pileated woodpecker, downy woodpecker, flicker. Maybe even a red-belly or a sapsucker. Raven. Broadwing. Alder flycatcher and phoebe. One or two other species of vireo. Titmouse. Brown creeper. Kinglets. Dove. Several more I’m forgetting, no doubt.
So, extrapolating: of maybe fifty species of birds on the hill, today I sensed a respectable eighteen.
 Chickadee and caterpillar. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. Common yellowthroat
3. Red-eyed vireo
4. Blue jay (voice)
5. Gray catbird (voice)
6. Cedar waxwing (voice)
7. Yellow-rumped warbler
8. Chestnut-sided warbler
9. White-throated sparrow (voice)
10. Eastern towhee (voice)
11. Black-billed cuckoo (voice)
12. Savannah sparrow
13. Song sparrow (voice)
14. American crow (voice)
15. Eastern wood-pewee (voice)
16. Hairy woodpecker (voice)
17. American goldfinch (voice)
18. Northern cardinal (voice)
Elsewhere
19. Herring gull
20. Broad-winged hawk
21. Mourning dove
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-billed cuckoo, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, broad-winged hawk, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hairy woodpecker, herring gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, red-eyed vireo, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler
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Monday, September 6th, 2010
 Red-eyed vireo. Thank you, Nature, for this gorgeous morning. The Labor Day holiday. Up early enough, to the hill in angular light. Cool again but not so breezy as yesterday.
 Eastern towhee. Soon after we began our hike I heard the quay! alarm note of a red-eyed vireo. This species has been quite silent lately—as have many usually vociferous species—never mind the thousands of individual notes and phrases it utters during high summer. But its numbers remain high. You’ve just got to look instead of listen. Except when they’re alarmed and call quay!
The first little batch of chickadees brought a couple red-eyed vireos near. Also yellow-rumped warblers (as usual) and white-throated sparrows. In the distance I heard a flicker.
Approaching the summit, Jack and I came upon another gang of chickadees. Also yellow warblers, more vireos, and a ruby-throated hummingbird.
Such a lovely sky today. Such a lovely shade of blue. And such a bright sun over the water of the bay. Sails in the bay. Refreshing dry breeze coming from the west. Jays in the distance. A solitary savannah sparrow on the open trail.
 Yellow-rumped warbler. Coming back over the top, I saw—and got photos of—a small bird that looked to be a vireo or warbler. It had a dark eye-line. It had a grayish cap and could’ve passed for a red-eyed but for its very yellow sides and belly. A warbling vireo? A Philadelphia vireo? Another red-eyed? A Tennessee warbler in yellow light? It seemed to have the bill of a vireo. But even after looking at the photos later, I could not be sure.
Coming down through the lower wooded trail, the voices of more chickadees got me looking at white-breasted nuthatches and brown creepers and a female black-throated blue warbler. Also a chestnut-sided and eastern phoebe.
It might not sound like much of a hike, but each moment seemed so full and pure that I tried to elongate that moment, to make time stop. Jack and I spent nearly two and a half hours on Beech Hill this morning. True, we ran into a few humans—even a dog—and had some conversations (and sniffing). But mostly we simply stopped and looked and listened and felt the warmth of the sun or the kiss of the breeze or the slight trace of the silky web against our faces
Later, in a backyard in Camden, I enjoyed the company of friends and the appearance of waxwings, three crows, a tree swallow, and a pileated woodpecker.
Returning home, I saw some geese in a field and watched a vulture and a raven in separate expanses of far, deep, heavenly blue.
 Yellow-rumped warbler. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Black-billed cuckoo (voice)
2. Red-eyed vireo
3. Black-capped chickadee
4. Common yellowthroat
5. Gray catbird
6. Ovenbird
7. Eastern towhee
8. Yellow-rumped warbler
9. White-throated sparrow
10. Blue jay
11. American crow (voice)
12. American goldfinch (voice)
13. Cedar waxwing
14. Northern flicker
15. Song sparrow (voice)
16. Ruby-throated hummingbird
17. Yellow warbler
18. Unknown vireo
19. Savannah sparrow
20. White-breasted nuthatch
21. Black-throated blue warbler
22. Chestnut-sided warbler
23. Brown creeper (voice)
24. Eastern phoebe
Elsewhere
25. Herring gull
26. Pileated woodpecker
27. Tree swallow
28. Turkey vulture
29. Common raven
30. Canada goose
 Isle au Haut.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-billed cuckoo, black-capped chickadee, black-throated blue warbler, blue jay, brown creeper, Canada goose, Cedar waxwing, chestnut-sided warbler, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, herring gull, northern flicker, ovenbird, pileated woodpecker, red-eyed vireo, ruby-throated hummingbird, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, turkey vulture, unknown vireo, white-breasted nuythatch, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler, yellow-rumped warbler
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Sunday, September 5th, 2010
 Yellow-rumped warbler.  Common yellowthroat. I heard the quay! of a red-eyed vireo when Jack and I stepped out of the pickup in the Rockville Street parking lot. The wooded Beech Hill slope moved and whispered before us as a brisk, cool breeze stirred the clean, dry air. We began to walk and soon heard the cheeps and burbles of a small band of black-capped chickadees.
At this time of year, few birds are very vocal. The rare spring song will emerge as by accident, like a hiccup, but most nesting species are secretive and silent, rarely offering up more than a subtle incognito chip note. Chickadees, though, always hang out in little groups, and they seem ceaseless in their communication: I’m over here. What’ve you got there. I heard something down below. Here’s some grubs and berries. You kids don’t stray too far.
 Yellow-rumped warbler. And however it ends up happening, at this time of year, the chickadees are rarely alone. I’ll hear them up ahead along the trail and slow my pace. Once within view, I’ll begin to scan the trees for small swift movements. Sometimes these will be white-cheeked birds with black caps, but just as often they’ll be wood warblers or thrushes or other miniature passerines. It feels like a magic trick, in fact. At a season when it’s hard to list many birds because of their shyness, all you have to do is listen for chickadees.
Today was no exception. The first black-caps I heard were accompanied by a good-sized group of yellow-rumped warblers that zipped and flew quickly through the undergrowth, chasing each other and pecking at twigs and finding morsels there. I stood for about five minutes or so watching them—must’ve been at least a half dozen of ’em. And a couple white-throated sparrows popped up into view, as well. And a solitary veery was a surprise. In the distance I heard the call of a raven.
 Turkey vulture. I didn’t hear the second gang of chickadees until we’d returned over the summit and begun our descent into the lower wooded trail. More white-throats accompanied this group, too, as did a solitary black-throated green warbler, hopping and flitting silently amid the greenery, not uttering so much as a tiny chip.
At this point, I found myself in The Zone, living in the moment, tiptoeing down the trail. As the voices of the second group of chickadees receded behind us, I already heard the sounds of the third group up ahead. These birds moved with brown creepers, wood-pewees, titmice, and a black-throated green warbler. The titmice were rather vocal, but the brown creepers emitted only their sibilant chip note. The pewees were utterly silent.
Since I was about nine or ten years old, among my favorite things to do in life has been to lose myself in the magic of a wood. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.
 Black-capped chickadee. Beech Hill List
Beginning at 8:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. Common yellowthroat
4. Gray catbird
5. Mourning dove
6. Yellow-rumped warbler
7. White-throated sparrow
8. Veery
9. Common raven
10. Eastern towhee
11. Cedar waxwing (voice)
12. Savannah sparrow
13. Herring gull
14. Turkey vulture
15. Blue jay (voice)
16. American goldfinch (voice)
17. Black-throated blue warbler
18. Eastern wood-pewee
19. Brown creeper (voice)
20. Tufted titmouse
21. Black-throated green warbler
Elsewhere
22. American crow
 Black-throated blue warbler.
Tags: American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, black-throated blue warbler, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, brown creeper, Cedar waxwing, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, herring gull, mourning dove, red-eyed vireo, savannah sparrow, turkey vulture, veery, white-throated sparrow, yellow-rumped warbler
Posted in Lists, Observations | No Comments »
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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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