Ah, an overcast day for a change. Our morning hike was far more humid than usual, but there was no warming sun beating down on Jack’s heavy coat, and his panting eased up a bit. (Still drank all his water.)
The birds on the trails were furtive and not very vocal, but it wasn’t hard to spot usual suspects. On the other hand, a few species made themselves apparent very subtly: a voice here or there, a flit within a juniper. At one point, when a female bunting posed for photos, I stopped to oblige—and saw a second little bird perched there. A warbler, looked like.
Later, when I looked at the photos, it was easy to ID a Virginia’s Warbler. A female I believe. Never made a peep. Had I decided not to snap that pic, I would’ve missed it altogether.
Sometimes it’s the little things.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 8:30 a.m., I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
A cool morning, a cloudless sky, a man and his dog headed up the trail again. The day began with the cries of a juvie Red-tailed Hawk and ended with the glide of a Turkey Vulture as we descended from a height.
In the interim, we encountered a load of birds—mostly (it seemed) fledgling Lazuli Buntings (a lot fewer singers than yesterday). but also a massive flock of Rock Pigeons, a flitting Black-throated Gray Warbler, and miscellaneous other usual suspects.
Our hike did include a spontaneous climb up to the cairn overlook—which left us both a little tuckered out, what with our advanced ages and all.
But seems we lived (truly lived) to see another day.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 8:30 a.m., I hiked about 1,000 feet up a mountain.
Few sounds in nature thrill me like the scream of a Red-tailed Hawk. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t heard it often (not counting in movies or on TV, where the sound is commonly—hilariously—used to represent vultures or eagles). Or maybe because it’s so unique, unmistakable, and ethereal: it’s not very loud, but it carries.
Since moving to Utah nearly a year ago, I’ve heard the cries of a redtails in the mountains three or four times—possibly as many times as I did in my two score years in Maine. [Aside: the Red-tailed Hawk is arguably the commonest hawk in North America.] Today, I got that thrill five or six times in a matter of a few minutes.
Over the past few days, I’ve spotted a young redtail down near the trailhead, hanging out on utility poles. It’s been quite vocal, but its voice is that of a young bird: a fast series of high-pitched squeals—nothing at all like the ethereal voice of an adult.
Today I saw juvie and adult together atop a pole. The former just sat there, squealing occasionally; the latter repeatedly released its inimitable cry.
“Flyyy!” it seemed to say. “Flyyy!”
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 8:15 a.m., I hiked some 1,200 feet up a mountain.
