Northern parula.
Today was unlike the last two in one notable way: lower cloud-cover. Still soggy, still drippy. But not much visibility out there, and the foghorns sounded all day.
Still a house finch and a house sparrow in the neighborhood. And crows. A ruby-throat feeding on the purple flowers out front, and a titmouse in the oaks out back. But I never left the building—not until after 5, when Jack and I set out for our daily Beech Hill hike. As we descended the back stairs, I heard the peent! of a woodcock.
Ferns unfurling.
Not a busy parking lot. No birdsong in the still, foggy air. But sounds there were: the rush of traffic off toward the east, the rattle of a gas-powered generator out there somewhere, an ambulance screaming down Route 1. Droplets fell from the trees like rain. Slugs on the trail. I finally heard my first bird while coming around the curve by the brook—a towhee. There’ll always be towhees.
An ovenbird called in the deeper woods. As usual, I heard the cries of herring gulls in the direction of the little cow farm. But no warblers flitted through the canopy that I could see. No birds at all that I could see until we’d already neared the top of the trail, when a male yellowthroat jumped up into view along the trail. Heard the calls of chickadees. Heard the song of a robin.
At the upper fields, the fog lay thick and white. More yellowthroats chipping in the brush. I heard the crazy phrases of a catbird and the distant chimes of a song sparrow. Finally spotted the second bird of the day—a robin, flying through the fog across the field.
Savannah sparrow.
We paused. Caught sight of a catbird. Saw another yellowthroat. Heard a savannah sparrow. Then a nice surprise: a wood thrush singing off in the stand of trees north of the summit. (Wood thrushes must like that area—I’ve heard their songs there at least the past two years.) A flicker cried from somewhere. As we moved slowly along the edge of the field, I heard the chips of what might’ve been yellow-rumps. Then a higher, sweeter chip, and I saw a pair of warblers fluttering toward us through the new leaves of an apple tree. They fluttered madly about, hardly stopping. I got a good look at one—it was the same bird I’d seen the other day down the upper wooded trail, with wing bars and a bright yellow breast. But this time I recognized it as a female northern parula.
Beech Nut loomed in a cloud. Saw the savannah bouncing around the wet grass. Heard more song sparrows.
Coming back down along the field, we walked slowly, and I managed to spot a couple yellow-rumps. The catbird sang still, and a couple juncos. Then, entering the muddy lower trail, I heard the magical voice of a hermit thrush—a song that seemed made for a close, rather eerie day like this one.
Eastern towhee.
I hadn’t expected much today, but my list was growing. Heard the song of a chestnut-sided warbler off in the drippy trees. Then, nearing the vernal pool, I heard a chickadee very near us. As we stopped to look for it, I noticed a few warblers moving low in the understory. The first was a black-and-white, the second was a magnolia. Both were feeding ravenously, neither was calling.
Then I heard the note of a veery and thought—it really was a thrushy kind of day.
Took a peek at the phoebe nest and saw a beak and tail. Then, at the parking lot, I recognized the song of a purple finch coming from across the road. That made twenty-one species up there today. Had you suggested I’d top my total from the last couple days, I’d have likely called you crazy.
Back home, I saw one of the nesting nuthatches sweeping off their dooryard. I heard the song of the resident cardinal. An ovenbird called, and I watched one of the neighborhood crows fly furtively away toward its roost. Up in the greening maple was a little bird—a silent warbler. But what species? As I watched, it slowly approached, finally reaching a branch not six feet above my head. It was a chestnut-sided. A female.
Trail through the oaks.
Out there tonight the trees are dripping. And I still hear foghorns.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 5:30 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Eastern towhee
2. Ovenbird (voice)
3. Herring gull (voice)
4. White-throated sparrow (voice)
5. Black-capped chickadee
6. Common yellowthroat
7. American robin
8. Gray catbird
9. Song sparrow (voice)
10. Savannah sparrow
11. Wood thrush (voice)
12. Northern flicker (voice)
13. Northern parula
14. Yellow-rumped warbler
15. Hermit thrush (voice)
16. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
17. Black-and-white warbler
18. Veery (voice)
19. Magnolia warbler
20. Eastern phoebe
21. Purple finch (voice)
Elsewhere
22. House finch
23. House sparrow
24. Ruby-throated hummingbird
25. Tufted titmouse
26. American woodcock
27. Mourning dove
28. Northern cardinal
29. White-breasted nuthatch
Tags: American robin, American woodcock, black-and-white warbler, black-capped chickadee, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, magnolia warbler, mourning dove, northern cardinal, northern flicker, northern parula, ovenbird, purple finch, ruby-throated hummingbird, savannah sparrow, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, white-breasted nuthatch, white-throated sparrow, wood thrush, yellow-rumped warbler
