Sun.
I awoke this morning to the sound of fog whistles—or fog horns, whatever you want to call them. That could mean only one thing: snow. Sure enough, an inch or two had fallen. A few light flakes still in the air. A tufted titmouse singing out there somewhere.
The trail.
On my first trip out with dog, I heard the unmistakable calls of Bohemian waxwings. I think I must’ve spooked a small flock—did not see them anywhere. But out front, I heard them again. (Still didn’t see ’em.) By then the snow let up. A herring gull flew by. The sun tried to poke through, then withdrew. Later, I sat at my desk for a good while, with Jack napping nearby.
We got up and out a little late in afternoon. Quick trip to Beech Hill. En route, three or four mallards flew rapidly above Powerhouse Hill.
None but us up there, though a few had passed before. Jack led, I snowshoed up behind him. The sky had scraps of blue in it but was mostly a ripply mass of clouds. Still, the disk of the sun shone through in the southwest, making the sky seem like some kind of sky from another planet. I paused to take a photo or two—and heard the call of a black-capped chickadee.
Beech Nut.
The chickadee and a crow whose distant voice I heard near the summit were the only birds up there today. The rest was only snow, hillside, distance, sun, and science fiction sky.
Back home, I heard the resident house finches—they seem to get active late in the day.
I had an affair to attend tonight. It snowed a little more. But all in all a rather nice evening—with mallards quacking up a storm in Clam Cove.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:45 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
2. American crow (voice)
Elsewhere
3. Tufted titmouse
4. Bohemian waxwing
5. Herring gull
6. Mallard
7. House finch
Birch.
Tags: American crow, black-capped chickadee, Bohemian waxwing, herring gull, house finch, tufted titmouse
