Common yellowthroat.
Supposed to warm up just in time for summer, but today was on the cool side still. Haze, then sun, more clouds, more sun. A breeze had gathered by the time I took of on my bike in mid-afternoon. A lovely ride—marked by a first-of-year chimney swift pittering around in the sky above downtown Rockland.
Red-tailed hawk.
The sun had reemerged by the time Jack and I began our daily Beech Hill hike. First bird on my list today was a robin, calling in what sounded like alarm from the end of the straightaway. Heard chickadees back there, too. We slowed to get a peek at the robin when a huge black bird took a few flaps off a low perch about fifty feet from us, beyond a tangle of greenery. Raven? Turkey? Not a turkey, it’s wingbeats were too slow. Didn’t see it flying away, so we crept closer and I got another glimpse just as it shot a bright stream out of its nether hole and flapped away again—for good, this time. Vulture perhaps?
Within a few seconds, both Jack and I got a whiff of a ripe, rotten smell—vulture, for sure.
Continued up the wooded trail, where assorted songbirds, well, sang. They’re still being secretive, the songbirds. Understandably. As we emerged up into the open, I caught sight of a bird soaring above the barrens. A red-tail. It would circle, then stop and hover for a while, circle again, hover again. We hurried up to the summit so I could perhaps get a better view. The hawk was still there, circling and hovering. In fact, it stuck around as long as we did, silhouetted against the fog-limned bay horizon.
The bay from Beech Hill.
Returning, we startled a male yellowthroat with a large moth in its beak. We let it chip at us a while then continued on down.
Ran into Sam and chatted about ticks. (Saw the doc yesterday about the minor bite on my leg, by the way; he thought it an allergic reaction and not an infection, and it sure enough feels better today.) As we chatted, I pulled a wood tick off my pants leg.
Coming down the lower woods, I heard a cardinal (kind of unusual), a pewee, and a nuthatch—but no hermit thrush.
Back home, however, the resident hermit thrush was singing from up the hill, as usual. Such a miraculous sound.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. American robin
2. Black-capped chickadee*
3. Red-eyed vireo* (v)
4. Turkey vulture
5. Ovenbird* (v)
6. Common yellowthroat*
7. Veery (v)
8. Chestnut-sided warbler*
9. Eastern towhee
10. American goldfinch* (v)
11. Mourning dove* (v)
12. American crow*
13. American redstart* (v)
14. Gray catbird*
15. Red-tailed hawk
16. Yellow warbler* (v)
17. Savannah sparrow
18. Song sparrow* (v)
19. Northern cardinal* (v)
20. Eastern wood-pewee (v)
21. White-breasted nuthatch (v)
Elsewhere
22. House finch (v)
23. Herring gull
24. Chimney swift
25. Chipping sparrow (v)
26. Mallard
27. Hermit thrush (v)
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-capped chickadee, chestnut-sided warbler, chimney swift, chipping sparrow, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, mallard, mourning dove, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, red-tailed hawk, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, turkey vulture, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, yellow warbler
