Gray catbird.
We hadn’t hiked more than a hundred yards along the wooded Beech Hill trail this morning when Jack and I happened upon a fellow with three off-leash dogs. Three. And they were large dogs—yellow labs or something.
“Uh-oh,” he said when he saw us. Then: “They’re friendly!”
Feather on the trail.
The dogs charged, one of them barking. They circled Jack, whose hackles looked like the Russian forest before the Tunguska Event.
“Hi,” says I to the dogs, with a smile. Then, to the guy: “You know, they’re supposed to be on leashes.”
“All right,” says he.
“It’s posted, like, all over the place.”
“All right,” says he.
And then I couldn’t resist this little aside: “I just don’t understand why people can’t follow the rules.”
Savannah sparrow.
I mean, it’s not a matter of civil disobedience, is it? Because I support civil disobedience. If you disagree with an unjust rule or law, disobey it peacefully in protest, so long as you don’t hurt anyone. I’m cool with that. (Hell, I’ve done that.) But this isn’t that. This has got to be simple laziness. Or ignorance. Or perhaps a failure to understand the reason for the rules: that there are nesting birds up there (especially at this time of year); that there are organic blueberries for dogs to poop on; that there are humans and other canines (on leashes) for loose dogs to charge or accost—or even attack. (I’ve heard two stories.) Anyway, it drives me crazy. Crazier even than when people don’t pick up after their dogs. I bet I’ve collected a half-dozen piles of dog shit up there that came from other people’s dogs.
(And don’t even get me started on outside cats.)
OK, enough whining. It is what it is, and it was what it was.
Wild turkey.
And what it was today was a spectacular day. What a lovely cool sunny morning. I heard so many warblers (though no redstarts on the hill, oddly) and all three resident thrushes (wood thrush for a change) and all five resident sparrows (as usual). Curiously, only one flycatcher (eastern wood-pewee, the last bird I listed). But there were two fowl, both flushed (woodcock and wild turkey). And I heard both raven and crow.
As it happens, our hike was redeemed as we came back up over the hill and met a lady from Connecticut who summers here and had just discovered Beech Hill. She was completely accepting of Jack—and the buggy, difficult wooded trail she’d just climbed. And was so thrilled with the loveliness of the day. And was so patient with me as I rambled on about the birds I’d seen and pointed out an approaching raven, which right away hollered caw-caw-caw. (We had a good laugh over that one.)
Putting a damper on things this afternoon: a handsome road-killed robin I passed while cycling. I felt a pang of guilt for not returning to collect its carcass and move it to a decent green shady place off the busy road. But perhaps, like the pileated woodpecker last year, it’ll still be there tomorrow. I’ll do it then.
Life is so precious, after all, most exactly because we die.
Turkey flight.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7 a.m., I walked all trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
3. Ovenbird (voice)
4. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
5. Cedar waxwing
6. Rose-breasted grosbeak (voice)
7. Common yellowthroat
8. Common raven (voice)
9. Eastern towhee
10. American robin
11. Gray catbird
12. American goldfinch
13. Veery (voice)
14. American crow
15. Yellow warbler (voice)
16. Tree swallow
17. Song sparrow
18. Nashville warbler (voice)
19. Black-throated green warbler (voice)
20. Mourning dove
21. Savannah sparrow
22. Blue jay (voice)
23. Chipping sparrow (voice)
24. White-throated sparrow (voice)
25. Black-and-white warbler (voice)
26. American woodcock
27. Wild turkey
28. Purple finch (voice)
29. Wood thrush (voice)
30. Hermit thrush (voice)
31. Black-throated blue warbler (voice)
32. Northern parula (voice)
33. Eastern wood-pewee
Elsewhere
34. House sparrow
35. American redstart
36. Herring gull
37. Rock pigeon
38. Red-winged blackbird
39. Northern cardinal
