In fall and winter and early spring, Jack and I tend to hike Beech Hill at a rapid pace. We breathe with our mouths open and work up a good sweat (at least I do). But at this time of year, we go slow. We walk quietly. In fact, Jack—who likes to lead when we’re walking fast—trails behind me, knowing that I’ve got some kind of important mysterious business up ahead. The business of spotting and photographing birds.

So we go slow. We make little noise. Birds sing and flit around us. We stop a lot.

On our early hike today, in cool air and angular sunlight, as we came quietly around a curve on the upper wooded trail, I saw a slight movement down the wooded hillside in front of us, and we stopped. I looked again and recognized the tawny flanks of a couple of white-tailed deer. Astonishingly, they didn’t see us. They were browsing about twenty yards away beyond the newly leafy understory. When I raised my camera, one of them looked up. I snapped off a some photos, and then we simply watched for a while. (Frankly, I’m not sure Jack—who was behind me—saw them at all, whereas I was riveted.) When finally I took a single step, the deer bounded away as if they’d just heard a rifle shot.

Ironically, we were stealthy enough to get the drop on a pair of deer (for the first time ever), and yet I couldn’t manage to sneak up on any of the many birds I figured I had a good shot at. I bet I missed five or six great photos—of a magnolia warbler, a Wilson’s warbler, a yellowthroat, a catbird. Thankfully, if you take enough pictures, you’re bound to get a few.

Like the yellow warbler photo I got. Yellows had suddenly appeared all over the hill today, the first day I’d seen any at all up there this year. They’re not exactly difficult to photograph, true, but still. I mean, we’d gotten so close to the Wilson’s and the magnolia (both first-of-year birds), but they simply would not sit still.

At the summit, I noticed that someone had installed a bench yesterday along the trail facing scenic Penobscot Bay. Nice bench, jarring change.

Then I met my birder friend Ed—first fellow human I’ve seen up there at such an early hour—and heard a flicker and saw a harrier. A kestrel made a hovering visit. A redwing flew over, and a (first-of-year) kingbird.

When we jack and I got back to the pickup, I could hardly believe nearly three hours had passed since we started up the trail.

Stealth, it seems, warps time.

Beech Hill List

Beginning at 6:15 a.m., I hiked all trails.

1. Wild turkey (v)
2. Hermit thrush (v)
3. Common yellowthroat
4. Ovenbird*
5. American robin*
6. American goldfinch*
7. Black-throated green warbler (v)
8. Chestnut-sided warbler
9. Common raven (v)
10. Purple finch (v)
11. Downy woodpecker (drumming)
12. Black-and-white warbler
13. Black-capped chickadee
14. American crow*
15. Blue-headed vireo (v)
16. Northern cardinal* (v)
17. Rose-breasted grosbeak (v)
18. Ruffed grouse (booming)
19. Blue jay*
20. Veery‡ (v)
21. Gray catbird
22. Eastern towhee
23. Yellow warbler*
24. American redstart (v)
25. Song sparrow* (v)
26. Wilson’s warbler‡*
27. Magnolia warbler‡
28. Eastern phoebe
29. Field sparrow (v)
30. Savannah sparrow (v)
31. Eastern bluebird (v)
32. Nashville warbler (v)
33. Red-winged blackbird
34. Tufted titmouse (v)
35. Eastern kingbird‡
36. Brown-headed cowbird*
37. Northern flicker (v)
38. Northern harrier
39. Barn swallow‡
40. American kestrel
41. Herring gull* (v)
42. Northern parula

Elsewhere

43. House finch (v)
44. European starling
45. Rock pigeon
46. House sparrow
47. Osprey (v)
48. White-breasted nuthatch (v)
49. Canada goose
50. Laughing gull (v)

v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
‡First-of-year bird