A Good Day for Courtin'
Remember yesterday’s dawn sit, which started at 12 degrees? 24 hours later, this one begins at 42 Fahrenheit. WTF, weather! Gloomy, it is: could be cloudy, could be blue, but one thing for certain, there’s no hint of sunlight on this manic Monday.
No early ducks today, either. Indeed, by seven, all I can detect is a single Dark-eyed Junco flyover and, of course, the Junkyard Raven. But the Mallards soon make an appearance, with sharp wing whistles behind alerting me to the first group low over town.
The first half hour is a drag. It’s one of those slow days during which I begin to wonder if there will be anything to write about. Nothing seems to want to vocalize for very long. The Carolina Wren goes once at 7:01, then is silent the rest of the dawn. Same for the chickadees and the titmice, and I don’t even hear from the nuthatch or the cardinal.
Gray on Gray
What I thought might be blue patches were darker clouds under lighter clouds.
A multi-part call from HOFI at 7:17, at least, and no more of this species until 7:31. The Cooper’s Hawk starts up and goes over and over for at least five minutes from a perch by the river, but I never see it move. At one point it probably darted up the creek, though, as clouds of House Sparrows and House Finches scatter along its lines of flight.
At 7:30, a Common Raven emerges from over Sapsucker Ridge heading toward town, doing its best Peregrine Falcon. I have to wonder whether this species consciously emulates the flight patterns of different raptors. I wouldn’t put it past them.
By the half hour, I’ve only recorded 11 species, but we can make allowances for the lesser amount of light today.
Red-tailed Hawks Feeling Amorous?
All winter, I’ve been watching one or another ‘tail’ over Bald Eagle Mountain, and rarely, two at a time. They are typically up early, coasting over east out of sight, or across the Gap to Plummer’s Hollow. When I see them later in the day, they often head off in other directions.
This dawn, with the aid of a stiff breeze, two are up by 7:33 along the ridgeline just to the south of the towers. Then, they begin to circle the towers, eventually moving north. Both hover within 100 yards of each other, facing west. A quick approach from the lefthand one, and the righthand one, after contact, dips down and then zooms quickly back to the mountainside and disappears behind the ridgeline. The other continues to hover. I hear a distant scream, that Hollywood eagle.
At 7:46 I check out the hawk activity again, and there are now two hovering pairs as far north as I can see on the flanks of Bald Eagle Mountain above Northwood. One pair gradually moves left out of my field of vision, but the other, I presume the one from earlier, begins to move toward my side of town, with a bit of interaction. By 7:56, they are overhead and disappear west, always keeping with a few hundred feet of each other.
I suspect this pair is sedentary not migratory, and has been bonded for quite awhile. It does look like they are getting ready to mate, and it is likely they are already or getting close to nest-building or repair. We’ll see what happens in coming days.
Starling Sit Spot
The 10 o’clock poplar and the tallest 2 o’clock sycamore, plus a lamp post, are the sit spots for the starlings today, some dozen, and they are doing all sorts of meadowlarks and blue jays, with the random killdeer, in among the gurgles. With blue behind me it is finally lightening, and the starlings continue to sing, even without the slightest hope of rays.
At 7:58, a Bald Eagle soars over Sapsucker Ridge, and the Downy Woodpecker, quite late today, send me off to work.
Herring Gull Sky
Given the warm-up, I can’t resist hoofing it to the pond before dark. It’s still slushy-frozen, though, and nothing is around. I check the secluded river spot but it’s empty, too. Nevertheless, I let my checklist run, because you never know: even though it’s after five, hope springs eternal.
It’s hackneyed to say “as if by magic,” but gulls often appear like that in these mountains. At 5:07, four large and powerful Herring Gulls come over the Gap, low enough to ID well with binoculars, but not close enough for a decent photo in the dying light. They aren’t in a particular hurry, maybe 100 yards higher than Sapsucker Ridgetop, and as many of our gulls do, they seem to be following the course of the river. Plummer’s Hollow 200 #60, a species expected at some point; a wanderer in the winter, and first hotspot record for the months of December to February.
Just as, well, magically, two Black Vultures appear above the Gap, circling, then heading lackadaisically north to Bald Eagle Mountain. It’s a sign! (I need to be sitting out after 5 these days.)
A pair of Northern Cardinals tick the last minutes of the day away at 5:20, while four Rock Pigeons speed through the Gap…going east, for some reason.