Red-tailed hawk.
Such a sunny morning. Not a cloud in the sky. Still a high wind, though, and an inch or two of snow overnight made for some interesting drifting. Dog, when he first went out, sunk to his neck in snow—much to his surprise (and my amusement). The early part of the day I spent at my desk for a change. And we welcomed a visitor, an old friend, who was game enough to toss the ball for Jack—who, unfortunately, left his feet to a point that he (for the first time) could not make a graceful landing. He ended up hurting a rear leg.
Wind-whipped.
So I hiked Beech Hill today without my good buddy.
Which was probably a good thing, considering the enormous drifts, the roaring wind, the arctic conditions generally. I donned snowshoes again (of course) and made my way up with some effort. Such a blue, blue sky. And in it, suddenly, appeared a hawk—a red-tail, soaring gracefully, almost leisurely, against the blazing blue.
Most interesting, to me, were the incredible patterns in the snow. Sculptures, miniature alien landscapes. I could see where we’d walked yesterday, because the wind had carved the snow away from around where our feet fell, leaving leapfrog buttes and mounds. Some places looked like layered canyon walls; some looked like glacial formations. The wind came again from behind my on my ascent, pushing me along, creating great clouds of fine snow that whipped over and down the barren slopes. As I topped the final rise, I saw bright white patches of snow on the bay islands. Also a couple of wheeling herring gulls in the distance by the shore.
Layers.
Turning toward Beech Nut, I faced the full force of the wind. Still, I somehow managed to snap a few photos of the hut beyond the giant drift that’d formed below it—same as yesterday, only larger. The wind had carved a sort of hole in the middle of the drift. The inland hills stood ageless and desolate away to the west.
Returning into the setting sun, I had to keep my head down against the wind. Wild white clouds of snow coursed and flew and covered my upward snowshoe tracks. My descent in such conditions passed more swiftly than my trip up. At certain points I thought I heard jays, or crows, or finches—but it could’ve been my imagination, because the sound of the wind drowned out most every other sound.
Nearing the protected parking lot, however, I did hear the voice of a kinglet. No, I didn’t expect three birds on my list today.
The wind continued well into night. But after about 9 or so, it diminished. Just now, at nearly 10 p.m., I walked out onto the deck to look at the stars. Jupiter setting down beyond the oaks, Orion high, Sirius rising. And—it took me a minute to realize—hardly any wind.
Beech Nut.
It’ll be a particularly cold one, though, I expect.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 2:45 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Red-tailed hawk
2. Herring gull
3. Golden-crowned kinglet (voice)
Elsewhere
4. American crow
5. House sparrow
6. Black-capped chickadee
7. Blue jay
8. Rock pigeon
The open trail.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, golden-crowned kinglet, herring gull, house sparrow, red-tailed hawk, rock pigeon
