Savannah sparrow on Beech Hill.
Upon awakening this morning, I forgot to say “rabbit rabbit.” Instead the first thing I said aloud, directed to the dog and cat, was: “How’re you bastards doing?”
About half an hour later, my dog had run off somewhere on the wooded Beech Hill trail.
Coastal Mountains Land Trust requires dogs on leashes on all Beech Hill trails. Among reasons for this are the effects of loose dogs on ground-nesting birds—savannah sparrows are nesting now—and the organic Beech Hill blueberry operation. But there are others. Jack’s only been off his leash twice in all our travels on the hill, once yesterday and once today. The circumstances were the same.
Eastern towhee.
This morning, as we neared the top of the upper wooded trail, we met a woman and her two large, off-leash dogs. Black labs, I’m pretty sure—but I didn’t have much time to contemplate the breed, as right away one of them charged Jack. I let go of his leash so he wouldn’t get tangled or strangled, and in an instant he was gone, up the trail, ahead of the big black dog. The woman hollered, her dog stopped. She apologized. “He’s just a puppy,” she said. They continued down the hill, and I walked up ahead to find my dog. A hundred yards up, around a couple corners. No Jack. Retraced my steps to where I’d let go of his leash, calling, “Jack!” No Jack. Back up ahead, calling, “C’mon, Jack!” By this time I’d forgotten all about the mental bird list I’d been keeping, didn’t hear the high distant trill of the savannah sparrows or the liquid burble of the tree swallows overhead. All I could think of was my dog running loose through the woods with a leash hooked to his collar.
Then he showed up ahead of me, panting and wagging. Whew.
Yesterday’s episode was similar, except we were on the open trail. A woman. Two dogs. No leashes in sight. One dog charges. I let go of Jack’s leash. “I didn’t know anyone else was up here,” the woman said. At least in that case, no woods were involved.
I wish people would follow the freakin’ rules.
Eastern phoebe nest.
Somehow I did manage to remember where I’d left off: nine species at that point—the usual, plus a booming grouse, a croaking raven, the tseet of a white-throated sparrow. I added swallow and savannah sparrow. The phoebes nesting up at Beech Nut. Harriers, ravens, and vultures flew over. On the open trail I heard the resident field sparrow, chipping sparrow, hermit thrush.
The day was the kind people call “beautiful”—cloudless, room temperature out, not a lot of wind. We walked the hill for nearly two hours, Jack and I, and only had to pick off a handful of ticks afterward.
Later in the day I cycled down to Owls Head, where a screaming osprey dipped and soared in its dramatic courtship display. More white-throats, phoebes, goldfinches, thrushes. Back home I mowed the overlong lawn and saw blue jay, house finch, and cardinal.
Tonight it clouded up and began to drizzle. Still felt pretty warm, though.
All in all, not a bad day.
Savannah sparrow.
Beech Hill List
At 8:30 a.m., I walked all trails.
American crow
American goldfinch
Black-capped chickadee
Herring gull
Eastern towhee
Ruffed grouse (booming)
Mourning dove
Common raven
White-throated sparrow (voice)
Northern harrier
Tree swallow
Eastern phoebe
Savannah sparrow
Field sparrow (voice)
Hermit thrush (voice)
Chipping sparrow (voice)
Turkey vulture
American kestrel
Song sparrow (voice)
Elsewhere
House finch
Blue jay
Northern cardinal
Osprey
Penobscot Bay.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American kestrel, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, chipping sparrow, common raven, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, field sparrow, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern harrier, osprey, ruffed grouse, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tree swallow, turkey vulture, white-throated sparrow
