Beech Nut.
I happened to notice today—another sun-drenched, breezy, eighty-something-degree day—that I’ve got no spiders in my back eaves. Every other year I’ve been hear, plump brown orb-weavers of some common species have built dramatic webs above the deck and along the rails. The realization that I’ve not seen a single spider back there this year caused me a little alarm. Has it been the wetter-than-normal weather? Some disease or disastrous local decline? After a minute or two, I realized what the problem must’ve been: the phoebes. First year with a phoebe nest back there, first year without spiders.
American crows.
At least I hope that’s what happened. I do love spiders.
It being Monday, the day proved busy, pressure-packed, full of crazy surprises. However, I had to take advantage of the weather and jump on my bike. A nice quick ride—with the wind anyway—and plenty of bird activity. Song sparrows, catbirds, robins, a yellow warbler or two, gulls overhead, the usual city birds. Had a late meeting, though, and Jack and I didn’t make it to Beech Hill until evening.
My first summer evening hike up there this year. Most of the hill birds had bedded down by then—like catbirds, waxwings, savannah sparrows. I heard no ovenbirds the whole way up or down. Vireos were singing, though. And towhees. I didn’t see much, just a pair of flitting sparrows near the summit, except for crows. And there were a mess of crows.
I heard cawing the whole way up, and as we reached Beech Nut and I turned around to get a look at the bay, there they were—at least seventy-five of them, all stalking one of the eastern fields. Occasionally a few would begin to holler and a dozen or so would take flight, circle, and descend again. Must’ve been something good to eat down there. This was at about 7:30 p.m. or so.
Beech Nut.
To the west, the sun was setting behind clouds and a light blanket of mist had settled at the bases of the inland hills. No mourning dove. No phoebe that I could see.
Returning along the lower trail, though, I heard singing thrushes—hermit and veery—holding forth in the darkening woods. Heard my first chestnut-sided warbler there, too—but still no ovenbirds.
By the time we approached the parking lot again (it was a fast hike, about forty-five minutes up and down), I had only eleven birds on my list and wanted to make it an even dozen, so I took a peek into the phoebe nest, and there was a bird in there. Then, just as we were climbing into the truck again, I heard a solitary ovenbird. That made thirteen.
After dark, on the back deck, I stood for a while enjoying the evening breeze. A couple fireflies. And a bright moon partially hidden by sailing clouds.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 7:15 p.m., I hiked the wooded trails.
1. Red-eyed vireo (voice)
2. American crow
3. American goldfinch (voice)
4. Common yellowthroat (voice)
5. Eastern towhee (voice)
6. Black-capped chickadee (voice)
7. Yellow warbler (voice)
8. Song sparrow
9. Hermit thrush (voice)
10. Veery (voice)
11. Chestnut-sided warbler (voice)
12. Eastern phoebe
13. Ovenbird (voice)
Elsewhere
14. Northern cardinal
15. House finch
16. Tufted titmouse
17. Gray catbird
18. Herring gull
19. House sparrow
20. European starling
21. Rock pigeon
22. Cedar waxwing
23. American robin
24. Mourning dove
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, American robin, black-capped chickadee, chestnut-sided warbler, common yellowthroat, eastern phoebe, eastern towhee, European starling, gray catbird, hermit thrush, herring gull, house finch, house sparrow, mourning dove, northern cardinal, ovenbird, red-eyed vireo, rock pigeon, song sparrow, tufted titmouse, veery, yellow warbler
