Common Raven.
At this latitude, the transition from winter to spring is a wild one. You might have a late spring thaw that leads right into a slushy, muddy April. You might have a snowbound March and a sudden equinoctial thaw. You might have a fairly mild winter and a record-breaking spring blizzard (as we had in 1983, I believe it was, on 07 April). Or, this year—when we had an especially frigid winter, but a thawy sort of spring so far—when we’re told to expect at least a half-foot of snow next week. You never know how it’s going to go.
Northern Shrike.
The birds, however, are proof enough—for me, at least—of spring. This morning when I first stepped out with Jack, I heard the song of a Dark-eyed Junco. A minute later, a Song Sparrow let loose a long series of chimes and trills. First-of-year, both species. Gave me quite a thrill.
Never mind that my Beech Hill hike with Jack in mid-afternoon was as raw as yesterday, and even windier, no matter that the sun was shining. Nice surprises bird-wise, though: a Merlin flew swiftly over as we passed under the leafless trees of the wooded trail; a pair of Common Ravens flew swiftly over the barrens, croaking; a solitary Northern Shrike reconnoitered from the crown of the little oak tree.
Tonight the temperature has dipped into the teens. Tomorrow is supposed to be right chilly.
Back in Texas, spring awakened right on cue, and bluebonnets covered the landscape. There, fall would descend in a wilder way, with the occasional blue norther or such. Here, fall arrives on its due date, with colorful foliage and maybe a dusting of snow.
Spring’s a little different. God bless the American woodcocks.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 2:15 p.m., I hiked all trails.
1. Merlin
2. American Crow*
3. Common Raven
4. Northern Shrike
5. Herring Gull*
Elsewhere
6. Dark-eyed Junco
7. Song Sparrow (v)
8. House Sparrow (v)
9. American Robin
10. Ring-billed Gull
v = Voice only
*Also elsewhere
Turkey tracks.
