7 November 2026

Posts Tagged ‘Bohemian waxwing’

Liquid spring

Sunday, April 3rd, 2011
Pussy willow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Pussy willow.

Such a sunny morning. So spring-like. (Which makes sense, I guess, considering it’s spring.) The snow of two days ago turned out to be—naturally—benign. Most of it had melted already by the time the morning grew old. The temperature soon lifted high into the 40s (F), and birds were singing everywhere. Through the windows I heard song sparrows, house finches, crows. While doing breakfast dishes I looked out to see what at first appeared to be a person, perhaps a child in costume, stooping down and moving about in the neighbor’s yard. But it wasn’t a person, it was a turkey. A male wild turkey, in full display.

Wild turkey (Glen Cove, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Wild turkey (male in mating display).

I stepped out and at once heard a phoebe calling—first of the year. Then juncos from the low trees out back. The juncos were chipping and trilling. And then I heard a thin call from above and looked up to see a pair of bohemian waxwings perched high in the branches of the big oak. House sparrows chirped. Chickadees singing fee-bee!

I decided this would be a good day to begin my taxes and proceeded to spend more than four hours looking for last year’s return. I quickly found the previous ten years’ returns but then ended up doing some major spring cleaning—going through piles of paperwork, tossing out old magazines, filing keepsakes and old letters, uncovering important notes and receipts and letters—until I finally found what I was looking for in the back of a filing cabinet downstairs. Whew.

At that point it was time to get out in this beautiful, cloudless day.

Bohemian waxwing, Glen Cove, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Bohemian waxwing.

As dog and I pulled into the parking lot, I could see that others had been there. Maybe only one or two others, but certainly we weren’t the only ones to take advantage of the fair weather by hiking the wooded Beech Hill trails. The track had gone slushy already, and plenty of muddy earth showed through. I heard chickadees right away and robins before long. I wondered if the fox sparrows would still be hanging around—and they were. Figured we’d head clear to the summit, so we did. Whereas the forest trails had been relatively calm, it was really blowing up there.

Fox sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Fox sparrow.

We rounded Beech Nut and were about to head back down when I spotted a big bird floating on the breeze down over the crest of the southern slope. A hawk. A harrier, I felt sure, but it dipped down before I could get a good look. Well, that was all it took to convince me to take Jack down the open trail (where he wanted to go anyway). We descended around the first long curve, and I saw the bird again up toward the summit. A harrier, no question. I watched it rise, head into the wind, then wheel about and soar quickly back around to our left and off down the eastern hillside. Tried for some photos but got only blurry ones. First of many harriers up there in 2011, I’m sure.

Not much happening down the lower trail, but we did meet a young couple ascending with a dog. We exchanged pleasantries, agreed that it was a lovely day. As we walked, the upper branches of the young hardwoods clattered and squeaked in the wind. Stopping to listen, I thought how much this ambient woodland music sounded like human voices—like unintelligible conversations at a dinner party.

Back home, a junco flitted away as I pulled in. A cardinal was singing in the distance—and another chipped nearby. I watched it hop around in the bare oak and maple branches for a while. Heard a pileated woodpecker’s call. Then a hairy woodpecker’s.

Later, in gloaming, I stepped out and was listening to a woodcock’s peent! from across the road when I noticed a large silhouette perched on an oak branch overhanging the parking lot. The shape had “ears.” A great horned owl. Not the best conditions for photographs, but I sure tried. The owl finally grew tired of my attentions and flew off up the hill.

Dinner dishes, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Dinner dishes.

An achingly starry night tonight. But I hear tell that more precipitation will soon be on its way.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.

1. Black-capped chickadee
2. American robin
3. Fox sparrow
4. Northern harrier

Elsewhere

5. American crow
6. Wild turkey
7. Dark-eyed junco
8. House finch
9. House sparrow
10. Eastern phoebe
11. Song sparrow
12. Bohemian waxwing
13. Herring gull
14. Northern cardinal
15. Pileated woodpecker
16. Hairy woodpecker
17. American woodcock
18. Great horned owl

Great horned owl, Glen Cove, Rockport, Maine, 03 April 2011.

Great horned owl.

Science fiction sky

Sunday, February 27th, 2011
Sun, from Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 27 February 2011.

Sun.

I awoke this morning to the sound of fog whistles—or fog horns, whatever you want to call them. That could mean only one thing: snow. Sure enough, an inch or two had fallen. A few light flakes still in the air. A tufted titmouse singing out there somewhere.

The trail, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 27 February 2011.

The trail.

On my first trip out with dog, I heard the unmistakable calls of Bohemian waxwings. I think I must’ve spooked a small flock—did not see them anywhere. But out front, I heard them again. (Still didn’t see ’em.) By then the snow let up. A herring gull flew by. The sun tried to poke through, then withdrew. Later, I sat at my desk for a good while, with Jack napping nearby.

We got up and out a little late in afternoon. Quick trip to Beech Hill. En route, three or four mallards flew rapidly above Powerhouse Hill.

None but us up there, though a few had passed before. Jack led, I snowshoed up behind him. The sky had scraps of blue in it but was mostly a ripply mass of clouds. Still, the disk of the sun shone through in the southwest, making the sky seem like some kind of sky from another planet. I paused to take a photo or two—and heard the call of a black-capped chickadee.

Beech Nut, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 27 February 2011.

Beech Nut.

The chickadee and a crow whose distant voice I heard near the summit were the only birds up there today. The rest was only snow, hillside, distance, sun, and science fiction sky.

Back home, I heard the resident house finches—they seem to get active late in the day.

I had an affair to attend tonight. It snowed a little more. But all in all a rather nice evening—with mallards quacking up a storm in Clam Cove.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:45 p.m., I hiked the open trail.

1. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
2. American crow (voice)

Elsewhere

3. Tufted titmouse
4. Bohemian waxwing
5. Herring gull
6. Mallard
7. House finch

Birch, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 27 February 2011.

Birch.

Light snow

Tuesday, January 25th, 2011
Sunset reflection, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 January 2011.

Sunset reflection.

Awoke to light snow. Warmer temperatures—although not all that warm. Teens (F), I’d say. But the temperature continued to rise (and the light snow continued to fall) all day. Crows chased and cawed in the naked trees. I heard house sparrows again across the road.

Late afternoon, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 January 2011.

Late afternoon.

Got stuff done. Then, in mid-afternoon, I happened to be looking out the east window just as a large flock of birds fluttered down into the trees far across the road. Stood and looked: the birds adorned every branch in the crowns of at least three hardwoods over there. Judging by their flight and flocking behavior, I’m calling them waxwings. Bohemians. Up to a hundred of them. Possibly even the same group I spotted at Beech Hill the other day.

Beech Hill. Finally got dog in the truck at about 4 p.m., just about the time the sky was finally clearing (after about a three- or four-inch snowfall, I might just note), and we hurried to the hill. No cars in the parking lot. In fact, none had been there all day, that I could tell. And no one had hiked the trail before us—that is, until we turned the corner at the gate. A brown creeper called from the trees just as I noticed from their tracks that a human and a dog had passed this way before. We followed their path through deep, fluffy snow drifts until about half-way up, when their tracks reversed, and then we were truly the first up there this day. The red-orange sun seemed large as it began to sink behind the Rockville ridge. Intermittently I looked over at it as it slowly disappeared.

New snow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 January 2011.

New snow.

No other birds on the hill today. Not much wind. Warm enough not to have to put my hood up. The reflection of the sky on Beech Nut’s windows seemed particularly warm—kind of a cantaloupe color.

We followed our footprints back down as the clear sky dimmed. It dimmed just a little later than it did yesterday.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 4:15 p.m., I hiked the open trail.

1. Brown creeper (voice)

Elsewhere

2. American crow
3. House sparrow
4. Bohemian waxwing

Far clouds, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 January 2011.

Far clouds.

 
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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