Darner (sp?).
Sometimes I see Beech Hill as a sort of miniature zoo. I hike daily with my dog, and we come across various interesting creatures—birds, mammals, insects, reptiles, amphibians—that never fail to amaze. Today, for instance. A cool and semi-overcast day to start with, but by the time we made our way to the hill in mid-afternoon, the clouds had burned away and the day had grown warm and steamy. Not many birds bothered to emerge in such conditions, but there’s plenty else to look at.
Cedar waxwing.
Dragonflies, for instance, and butterflies. Not many of these stood still long enough to admire closely, but they zipped around us the whole way up and down the open trail. Swift-moving yellow butterflies ricocheted around, and a blue-eyed dragonfly of some kind—a darner, I’m pretty sure—actually posed for a photo. Lovely and fascinating.
Down in the berry patch, swarms of bees were frequenting the little clusters of asters (I assume they were asters, but I’m not a wildflower expert). Frogs and chipmunks were calling from the trees. I did see a gang of crows and several vocal waxwings perched atop the surrounding hardwoods (including another bird on the dependable perch I mentioned yesterday). I saw only the waxwings and crows, though—the few other species offered only a few notes and calls.
On other days, I’ve stumbled on at least three species of snake, at least three species of frog, slugs, porcupines, deer, a woodchuck one time. Lots of rodents. I’ve encountered scores of birds up there, of course, including a couple sole Maine sightings for me (most notable being black vulture). I’ve even heard the eerie growls and barks of two or three mystery mammals. Never a boring day up there.
Bee.
While musing on this zoo idea during today’s hike, I got thinking that, as self-contained as the ecosystem might seem, you couldn’t enclose Beech Hill in a glass dome and expect it to sustain itself. You’ve got migrating birds, for one thing. Also wind-blown seeds, wandering wildlife, maybe even microscopic rain-borne critters. No, somehow everything’s connected here on our tilted planet; I figure nothing can live in a vacuum for long.
On the other hand, the planet itself is self-contained, insulated by air and shielded from the surrounding vacuum. We’ve got ourselves a private terrarium of sorts. That is, until you imaging viruses carried by meteors, stuff like that. Still, certain decisions we humans make—large and small—have an effect on everything else around us.
That was the route of my train of thought today, anyway.
Before my hike with Jack today, I took a long, lovely bicycle ride. Plenty of birds along that route—evidence of the beginnings of nervousness at the coming season?
Grass.
Beech Hill List
Beginning at 3:30 p.m., I hiked the open trail.
1. American crow
2. Eastern towhee (voice)
3. Cedar waxwing
4. American goldfinch (voice)
5. Common yellowthroat (voice)
6. White-throated sparrow (voice)
Elsewhere
7. Herring gull
8. Rock pigeon
9. Mourning dove
10. Blue jay
11. Northern cardinal
12. Tufted titmouse
13. Eastern wood-pewee
14. Black-capped chickadee
Tags: American crow, American goldfinch, black-capped chickadee, blue jay, Cedar waxwing, common yellowthroat, eastern towhee, eastern wood-pewee, herring gull, mourning dove, northern cardinal, rock pigeon, tufted titmouse, white-throated sparrow
