7 November 2026

Posts Tagged ‘blackbird’

Crazy discovery

Thursday, March 22nd, 2012
Mourning cloak, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 22 March 2012.

Mourning cloak.

Humans seem hard-wired to seek and discover. I got to thinking, while hiking through the woods today, how my senses grow focused as I approach every rise and round every corner. What will I see? What will I hear? (Jack does the same.) And this is a familiar trail. On unfamiliar trails, I become even more attentive and expectant, such that I’m hardly aware of myself being there, moving and smelling and feeling.

American robin, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 22 March 2012.

American robin.

Given our crazy March weather—today reached 80 degrees (F) at my place—I’ve found my focus has increased. This landscape seems unfamiliar. Spring peepers already, and wood frogs. What will I see? What will I hear?

The first thing I saw in the woods today was a butterfly, a mourning cloak, flitting across the trail ahead of us. It landed on the branch of a young maple and sat there in the afternoon sun. Then I heard crows. Then I saw robins, perched in the canopy flicking their tails. We stopped so I could watch the robins, and a flicker called loudly off in the trees somewhere. Then I saw the flicker in distinctive, undulating flight headed up the wooded slope. Then I heard chickadees.

At the summit, I got distracted by the sudden appearance in the northwest distance of a new white wind generator. I kind of wish I hadn’t, because as I was contemplated the wind machine, I caught a movement in the corner of my eye, turned my head, and got a glimpse of a gray ghost—a male harrier—flapping up over Beech Nut. We hurried around the hut, but I got only faraway views of the handsome bird as it soared low over the base of the eastern hillside. Much nearer, a song sparrow popped up in a patch of brush. Two of them. One was singing. First song sparrows I’ve seen on the hill this year.

Song sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 22 March 2012.

Song sparrow.

Returning, I heard a sound and we stopped. The spring call of a titmouse. Farther down, I heard goldfinches fly over. Nearing the parking lot, I heard a brightly singing cardinal and the chuck! chuck! of a small group of blackbirds. (I must practice IDing their species by their chip-notes.)

Late tonight, it’s balmy out. Upper-60s, I bet. I stood out there for a while a moment ago simply marveling at the chorus of peepers. It’s somehow unfamiliar.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.

1. American crow (voice)
2. American robin
3. Northern flicker
4. Black-capped chickadee
5. Herring gull (voice)
6. Northern harrier
7. Song sparrow
8. Tufted titmouse (voice)
9. American goldfinch (voice)
10. Northern cardinal (voice)
11. Blackbird (sp., voice)

Elsewhere

12. Mourning dove
13. House finch
14. Ring-billed gull
15. Rock pigeon
16. Eastern phoebe

Early hike

Monday, April 25th, 2011
Savannah sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 April 2011.

Savannah sparrow.

Opened my eyes. Sun against the blinds. Six-thirty a.m. Drug myself out of bed. Dressed quickly. Stuck a mug of coffee in the microwave. Grabbed Jack. Headed up to Beech Hill.

Before we’d taken two steps, I heard the phoebe singing in the sugarbush. I suspect a pair will be nesting under the kiosk at the trailhead, as in the past. Also heard the magical song of a hermit thrush, and the lesser (but still lovely) song of a robin. The caws of distant crows. And the rapid beep-beep-beep! of a nuthatch.

Song sparrow, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 April 2011.

Song sparrow.

Chickadees called also as we snaked up the first curve. Heard towhees singing. Then, at the junction of the upper and lower trails, I decided to hang a right for a change—temporarily—to check the vernal pool. Sure enough, a mallard was sitting down there for the second straight day. In fact, there were two of them. Both males.

Herring gulls cried in the distance. A goldfinch in flight: “perk chicory!” Then I heard a chuck! chuck! and looked up to see about a half-dozen blackbirds flying over. Couldn’t say for sure what they were, but I suspect redwings. (Would’ve been first-of-year birds, if so.)

Rounding a turn, I happened to see an odd buffy shape attached to a dead snag, and we stopped. It was a flicker, frozen there, watching us. Snapped off a couple bad photos.

Heard a hairy woodpecker out there somewhere, and the voice of a song sparrow toward the upper fields. Emerging into those fields, as I’ve done lately, I scanned for kestrels but saw none. I did, however, hear the voices of tree swallows. Once we emerged at the summit, I found them—two pair of ’em—veering around one of the bird boxes down the eastern slope. A little private battle for the nest.

Northern cardinal, Glen Cove, Rockport, Maine, 25 April 2011.

Northern cardinal.

Heard savannah sparrows—then saw a couple. One sat singing not far from the trail. I’ve found you can get pretty close to a savannah sparrow. (Less close to a song sparrow. They seem more skittish.) Coming down the open trail, I heard jays screaming. Then I saw them, three of them. They perched for a minute in the small solitary oak—the one frequented by the barred owl last winter—along with a solitary robin. Suddenly a kestrel soared by. Then another. They were headed over to the eastern hillside.

Down toward the road, I heard a purple finch, a robin, a titmouse, and a couple of field sparrows. (Dueling field sparrows again.) And from somewhere a cardinal sang. Also a mourning dove.

It was quite a birdy morning.

In fact, the cardinal made twenty-two species—one more than yesterday. And ascending the open trail again, I heard the call of a pileated woodpecker. And later, coming down the lower wooded trail, I heard the gobbles of wild turkeys.

Back home, while still checking for ticks, I heard the resident cardinal singing close by. Looked out, and it was perched on a near limb. Managed a few photos of the male—then saw the female off behind it. (Female cardinals are the most beautiful, I think.) I probably need not even mention the resident house finch. A vocal fellow.

Penobscot Bay, from Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 April 2011.

Penobscot Bay.

Rode my bike in afternoon. The day had clouded over by then and a little wind had kicked up, but the air felt sweet and mild. Starlings and pigeons in town. Not much else to report. Gulls.

As the daylight dwindled, I stood out on the deck watching the nesting nuthatches and heard the crazy honks of a goose. A solo Canada goose. Flying off toward Clam Cove, announcing itself to the world.

The forecast rain finally arrived come early evening. Not a lot of rain, though. Rather nice, actually.

Beech Hill List
Beginning at 6:45 a.m., I hiked all trails.

1. Eastern phoebe
2. Hermit thrush (voice)
3. American robin
4. American crow
5. White-breasted nuthatch
5. Black-capped chickadee
7. Eastern towhee
8. Mallard
9. Herring gull (voice)
10. American goldfinch (voice)
11. Blackbird (sp.?)
12. Northern flicker
13. Hairy woodpecker (voice)
14. Song sparrow
15. Tree swallow
16. Savannah sparrow
17. Blue jay
18. American kestrel
19. Field sparrow (voice)
20. Purple finch (voice)
21. Tufted titmouse
22. Northern cardinal (voice)
23. Mourning dove (voice)
24. Pileated woodpecker (voice)
25. Wild turkey (voice)

Elsewhere

26. House finch
27. European starling
28. Rock pigeon
29. Canada goose

Blooming tree, Beech Hill, Rockport, Maine, 25 April 2011.

Blooming tree.

 
Bird Report is a (sometimes intermittent) record of the birds I encounter while hiking, see while driving, or spy outside my window. —Brian Willson



3IP Logo
©1997–2026 by 3IP