Northern harrier.
Before fully awakening this morning I became aware of thunder and rain. Thundershowers moving through from over the hill, headed out to see. The dreamy miasma of my mind embraced the storms—both for their luscious elemental power and for the excuse they gave to sleep in. My Beech Hill hike with Jack would come later in the day.
Approaching rain.
The line of storms passed swiftly, but the day remained cool and through the middle of it. Then things began to dry out to the point that I thought I might get some cycling in. But when a fast moving thundershower zipped past at about 3 in the afternoon, I ditched the cycling idea.
The sun having emerged again by 5 p.m., Jack and I headed for the hill.
Damp trails, evidence of runoff, the sound crickets and dripping leaves. I heard some chickadees finally about a hundred yards in. And they were the only birds evident for a good while. That is, until we spooked some towhees. And a goldfinch bounced by overhead. And a crow cawed.
Emerging into the open fields, sparrows and waxwings and yellowthroats and catbirds began to reveal themselves—typically by subtle vocalizations. Over the hill, a great dark cloud loomed. We met a fellow hiker and her dog, Lucy, coming down the trail and exchanged a few words about the prospect of more rain. Sure enough, about the time Jack and I reached the summit, some light rain began to fall. Just as I was scanning about in a frantic attempt to identify the dozen or so small warblers and vireos flitting about in the spruce grove up there.
Rainbow.
I only managed IDs of a yellow-rump and another Philadelphia vireo. Although one of the warblers was really very yellow.
The rain was light and fragrant, coming from the west. Jack and I spent five or ten minutes under the porch roof of Beech Nut waiting for it to pass. We set off again with just a few raindrops falling yet though the hazy yellow sun-soaked trail.
Not much happening on the way down, other than a couple folks hiking up. We turned and climbed—and there was the rainbow I’d anticipated. A double rainbow, in fact (though the second one was faint and really not worth mentioning). And as we neared the summit again, against the rainbow, a harrier suddenly rose from the grass. I couldn’t quite manage what would’ve been The Mother of all Photos, but I did get a shot of it headed away.
As we topped the hill, I saw there were in fact a pair of marsh hawks teetering low down the eastern slope. The rainbow arced brightly down against the expanse of Penobscot Bay.
Before we dove into the lower wooded trail, I saw a mourning dove flapping off toward the west. Then, in the woods, I heard chickadees and a titmouse. The understory felt damp. New mushrooms had popped up since yesterday.
On reaching the pickup, I had a warm, lovely feeling. Despite the low number of bird species, this hike had drama, variety, and beauty. How nice is it to be alive?
Beech Nut.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5 p.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Black-capped chickadee
2. Eastern towhee
3. American goldfinch (voice)
4. American crow (voice)
5. White-throated sparrow
6. Cedar waxwing
7. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
8. Common yellowthroat
9. Eastern phoebe
10. Yellow-rumped warbler
11. Philadelphia vireo
12. Savannah sparrow
13. Song sparrow
14. Northern harrier
15. Mourning dove
16. Tufted titmouse (voice)
Elsewhere
17. Herring gull
