Mourning dove.
Still a little nippy out when dog and I headed to the hill, but at least the sun shone brightly and there wasn’t a lot of wind to speak of. Not a load of early birds, but I heard the songs of maybe a half dozen species within the first few minutes. Many of them warblers.
Black-and-whitewarbler.
Not much action, though, until we turned onto the upper wooded trail where the sun had warmed the crowns of a grove of aspen. The trees were crawling with warblers. I heard black-and-whites, black-throated greens, chestnut-sideds—they were flitting around in the upper branches, though, which made photographing them a challenge. I did manage to get a bead on one yellowish bird (black-throated green, I figured) and snapped off a shot. Nothing to write home about, surely.
The resident raven flew over, as it’s done with some regularity. I love listening to its croaks and growls. And I flushed a mourning dove, which didn’t fly too far. And many of the birds I heard today I actually even laid eyes on.
Didn’t count too many, though. I figure one group has gone silent on account of nesting; another group was hunkered down on account of the cold. No phoebe sat on the nest under the Beech Nut porch roof. I heard no prairie warbler. I saw no hawks or falcons or tree swallows. I did hear another great crested flycatcher, though, and a tanager. I also heard two species I didn’t recognize. Mysteries.
The first was singing along with a yellow warbler in a cluster of young trees down the open southern slope. I tried to memorize its voice: a tumble of notes dipping down, dipping down, then rising again at the end. It sang this song over and over, sounding like a warbler. I don’t know any warbler with that song, though. Later, I went online and listened to all wood-warbler voices—it sounded like an orange-crowned, sort of, but I’m unfamiliar with the species.
The second mysterious voice came from far down the northern wooded slope on our return to the parking lot. A regular, clear “dong dong dong dong.” Four notes. Always the same. The maddening thing is, I’d heard this call before—each of the past two years. And coming from the same vicinity. I went looking for the bird, couldn’t find it. It sounded like a warbler’s song, but I couldn’t ID it through research. Maddening.
And here it was again.
I didn’t count those two birds when I tallied up the day’s list. I think next time I’ll head off-trail and see what I can see.
When I downloaded my photos later today, I discovered that the yellowish warbler I’d taken pictures of wasn’t a black-throated green, as I’d suspected—it was a magnolia warbler. A first-of-year bird. A nice surprise.
Magnolia warbler.
Beech Hill List
At 7 a.m., I walked all trails.
1. Ovenbird
2. Black-capped chickadee
3. Black-throated green warbler
4. Common yellowthroat
5. American crow
6. Chestnut-sided warbler
7. Black-and-white warbler
8. Magnolia warbler
9. American goldfinch
10. Eastern towhee
11. Gray catbird
12. Common raven
13. Mourning dove
14. Nashville warbler
15. Blue jay
16. Field sparrow
17. Song sparrow
18. Savannah sparrow
19. Yellow warbler
20. Hermit thrush
21. White-throated sparrow
22. Great crested flycatcher
23. Northern flicker
24. Red-eyed vireo
25. Pileated woodpecker
26. Scarlet tanager
Elsewhere
27. Tufted titmouse
28. American robin
29. Eastern phoebe
30. Herring gull
31. American redstart
32. House finch
33. Rock pigeon
34. Turkey vulture
Beech Nut, 13 May 2010.
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American redstart, American robin, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, black-throated green warbler, blue jay, chestnut-sided warbler, common raven, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, field sparrow, gray catbird, great crested flycatcher, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, magnolia warbler, mourning dove, Nashville warbler, northern flicker, ovenbird, pileated woodpecker, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, savannah sparrow, scarlet tanager, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, turkey vulture, white-throated sparrow, yellow warbler
