09-27-2006 – Muddy Brook WMA, Hardwick

Interesting migrants continue at Muddy Brook with highlights of Blue-headed Vireo (1), Winter Wren (1), Golden-crowned Kinglet (2), Ruby-crowned Kinglet (12), Hermit Thrush (1), Nashville Warbler (3), Northern Parula (3), Chestnut-sided Warbler (1), Magnolia Warbler (1), Black-throated Blue Warbler (1), Yellow-rumped Warbler (7), Black-throated Green Warbler (2), Blackburnian Warbler (1), Blackpoll Warbler (20), Black-and-white Warbler (1), CONNECTICUT WARBLER (1, in different area than yesterday’s) and Common Yellowthroat (2).  (Report from Chris Buelow)

09-26-2006 -- Muddy Brook WMA, Hardwick

Time spent at Muddy Brook WMA turned up 13 species of Warblers and a nice influx of Sparrows.  Highlights include Turkey Vulture (32 over the nearby landfill), Northern Flicker (1), Eastern Phoebe (3), Blue-headed Vireo (6), Golden-crowned Kinglet (4), Ruby-crowned Kinglet (8), Gray Catbird (4), Nashville Warbler (2), Northern Parula (2), Chestnut-sided Warbler (1), Magnolia Warbler (1), Yellow-rumped Warbler (6), Black-throated Green Warbler (3), Pine Warbler (1), Palm Warbler (1), Blackpoll Warbler (10), American Redstart (1), Ovenbird (1), CONNECTICUT WARBLER (1), Common Yellowthroat (1), Song Sparrow (10), LINCOLN’S Sparrow (1), and White-throated Sparrow (12).  (Report from Chris Buelow)

9/25/06 -- Pine Island, Hardwick

A Great Egret was observed flying over Barre Road, Hardwick as it was moving up Danforth Brook near the center of town. (Report from Chris Buelow)

09-24-2006 – Moose Brook Valley, Hardwick

A single mid-morning flock in the Wheeler’s Pastures section of the Valley had Black-capped Chickadee (25), Ruby-crowned Kinglet (3), Nashville Warbler (2), Northern Parula (4), Magnolia Warbler (2), Black-throated Blue Warbler (1), Yellow-rumped Warbler (6), Black-throated Green Warbler (7) and Blackpoll Warbler (12).   Peripherally observed in the pastures were Osprey (1, migrating low overhead), Northern Flicker (2), Eastern Phoebe (1), House Wren (2), Gray Catbird (7), Eastern Towhee (10) and Indigo Bunting (1).  (Report from Chris Buelow)

09-20-2006 – Muddy Brook WMA, Hardwick

A large, diverse flock of migrants was quietly working their way through the Scrub Oak thicket of Muddy Brook in the mid-to-late day.  Highlights include Eastern Phoebe (1), Blue-headed Vireo (4), Red-eyed Vireo (2), Black-capped Chickadee (35), Tufted Titmouse (15), Red-breasted Nuthatch (1), Ruby-crowned Kinglet (2), Golden-crowned Kinglet (2), Gray Catbird (4), Northern Parula (8), Magnolia Warbler (3), Yellow-rumped Warbler (4), Black-throated Green Warbler (6), Blackburnian Warbler (1), Pine Warbler (3), Blackpoll Warbler (14), American Redstart (2), Common Yellowthroat (1), Scarlet Tanager (1), Eastern Towhee (3). (report From Chris Buelow)

09-12-2006 – Eagle Hill Boardwalk (EQBC trip)

An interesting evening on the boardwalk had several large flocks of blackbirds, as well as many smaller flocks, streaming overhead on their way to evening roost somewhere due north of the observation site.  In all, about 700 blackbirds passed, with around 90% being Red-winged and the remainder being Grackles.  Then, as dark set in, a secondary event of interest took place as small groups of Wood Ducks began dropping into the far end of the marsh: though still quite close.  About 40 Wood Ducks in all, persistently calling and splashing.  Other birds observed were American Woodcock (2), Mourning Dove (7), Black-capped Chickadee (6), White-breasted Nuthatch (2), Carolina Wren (1), Wood Thrush (2), Gray Catbird (3), Common Yellowthroat (1), Swamp Sparrow (3), and American Goldfinch (3).  (submitted by Chris Buelow)

09-12-2006 – Muddy Brook WMA, Hardwick

Observed around Muddy Brook were Turkey Vulture (1), Broad-winged Hawk (1), Mourning Dove (1 feeding a recent fledgling), Eastern Phoebe (3), Red-eyed vireo (2), Black-capped Chickadee (6), House Wren (1), Pine Warbler (1), Palm Warbler (2), Common Yellowthroat (3), Song Sparrow (1), and American Goldfinch (10).  (submitted by Chris Buelow)

09-09-2006 – Brooks Reservation, Petersham (EQBC Trip)

Curved evergreen boughs emerge through the mist.  As erratic rain droplets spatter against my optics, a warm yellow dot drops into view, its crisp outlines slowly blurring and streaking.  The drizzle intensifies, and the perky figure dissolves completely in a gauzy smear.  The only sign of life in the fog-cloaked landscape, it utters a wiry call note and disappears with a flicker of olive-hued wings.  I negotiate the slope at the southern tip of the bridge traversing the streambed that has held my interest, pursuing the tiny silhouette into its new hiding place within the crevices of a Hemlock branch overhanging the foaming waters.  A glimmer of crimson appears, smoldering against the inky blackness filling the underside of the bridge.  The Golden-crowned Kinglet examines the contours of an eddy on the opposite side of the stream, utterly absorbed by the tiny insects darting fifteen feet away from the tip of its bill.  After some moments of intensive study, it dashes into their midst, scattering the small swarm, alighting on the far bank with one of their number clenched between its mandibles, glowing red crest plainly visible. 

Clear whistles play upon the breeze, bright clusters of triplets floating down from the gray gloom.  Four squat bodies undulate over the coniferous canopy, surveying the vast array of available perches in a leisurely fashion.  At last singling out the upper reaches of a declining Sugar Maple, they land in an orderly cluster, preening smart black wing feathers to gleaming perfection in the intermittent bursts of sunshine struggling through the unsettled atmosphere.  Cold water clutches at my extremities, my unconscious movement of legs and feet having shifted me into deeper water.  Shuffling awkwardly towards the crest of the streambed, I clamber through the slick weedy tangle at the edge of the roadway and amble south, waterlogged boots and socks squishing merrily against the unforgiving asphalt.  I return to the car, taking advantage of its secluded location to change into dry trousers and footwear.  Emerging into daylight from the dark parking lot, I hike north once again, probing the interiors of the huge Hemlocks with binoculars.  As brash Blue Jays sprint out of the depths of the forest, a human shape appears on the north side of the road. 

A familiar face comes into view, grinning with anticipation.  Having found no other birders at our predetermined rendezvous point, we resign ourselves to being the only participants in the morning’s scheduled birding trip.  We pause briefly to establish an itinerary and are soon underway.  We work our way through a clearing surrounded by thick White Pine, the insistent calling of Red-breasted Nuthatches meeting our ears as the landscape’s details present themselves in full daylight.  Dew glistening on our boot tops, we dislodge a wriggling tan and black shape from the drenched grass.  A Pickerel Frog bounds away from us as we stoop to gain a better view.  The conversational cadence of the burry notes falling from the deciduous canopy overhead reveals a Blue-headed Vireo.  Ungainly juvenile American Robins peer from the shrubbery, studying us with bottomless black eyes as we make our way towards a massive bridge abutting a vast swamp brimming with Tussock Sedge and ablaze with Orange Jewelweed.  The distinctive call notes of a Common Yellowthroat absorb us, and we are quickly rewarded with superb views of two specimens.  As they disappear into the vegetation, we witness the arrival of Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers.  Both species call vigorously for several minutes, and two zebra-striped shapes of vastly differing size swoop into view, alighting upon separate snags some thirty feet apart directly in front of us.  Welcoming the opportunity to compare and contrast the two species, we study each at length until the two birds bolt away into clearing skies.  Glancing downwards as we traipse into darkened woodlands, a luxuriant carpet of Partridge Berry stretches up the hill before us, its scarlet drupes lighting our way.  We clamber determinedly up the steep gradient, and my companion comes to a halt, keen eyes having discerned furtive movement amidst the chaotic tumble of ferns and boulders.  A sprightly ball of feathers dashes to the top of a rocky outcropping.  A short, tentative jumble of notes twinkles gaily, filling the vast slope and echoing around us.  We eagerly seek out its source, eyes locking onto the bright flesh-colored base of the bill of a juvenile Winter Wren.  Delighted to have such fine views of a notoriously elusive species, we follow its haphazard movements until it melts into the tangle surrounding a gargantuan glacial erratic.  Marveling at its size, our eyes wander into the leafy forest canopy surrounding its upper edge.  We glass the contours of a shattered deciduous tree trunk, a white belly and black throat dropping noiselessly into bright sunlight, black bill locked around a struggling moth.  Blessed with a more accommodating view, we study the bird’s coloration at length, determining it to be a juvenile Black-throated Green Warbler.  Continuing our climb, Black-capped Chickadees and Tufted Titmice call steadily, enticing us further towards the top of the hill.  Stopping suddenly, my fellow birder jabs a finger downwards towards the trail in front of me.  An orange “S” shaped outline flecked with searing red dots bordered with black glows against the dark soil.  I pause to examine a Red Eft thoroughly before stepping gingerly around it. 

Arriving at a spacious three-way intersection, we are drawn to the steady pulse of nearby rushing water.  A whistled call rises and falls, and we hike along the overgrown borders of a streambed dotted with hummocks of dry gravel.  The thin call repeats, and we add Eastern Wood Pewee to the morning’s total.  I call my companion’s attention to the location where an Olive-sided Flycatcher was seen in late May, and we wade through a riot of Orange Jewelweed to the water’s edge.  Elegant beige shapes drop out of the heavens, peppering the branches of an enormous dead pine.  Eyed through binoculars, they prove to be a compact flock of Cedar Waxwings.  As activity stirs in a pine to the right of the waxwings, the call of a Common Flicker slices through the clouds.  A smudge of yellow and green morphs into a Pine Warbler, and our views of the bird improve as it slowly advances to the end of a bare branch.  A nondescript patch of brown at the tip of a large snag proves to be an unobtrusive Eastern Phoebe calmly studying the landscape.  We return to the trail, stopping to admire a lush stand of Royal Fern.  Clomping our way back to level ground, we arrive at a second bridge situated high above the serpentine dimensions of an oxbow in the river below.  After a picturesque and restorative respite, we embark upon the trip’s return leg.  After an uneventful interval, feathers stir in the recesses of a nearby pine grove.  Sustained observation reveals Cedar Waxwings and Pine Warblers feeding in a substantial mixed flock.  Standing stock still, we study their darting shapes, relishing first-rate views until the group gradually disbands, thinning until the glen is completely silent.

We move on, halting within a dozen paces as a stray snatch of song catches my companion’s ear.  A blotch of brown and white proves to be a Brown Creeper that promptly disappears from view.  Our patience is rewarded after some minutes.  The bird swivels into sight against a tree trunk, feeding determinedly before taking flight, quickly engulfed by the leaves on the opposite side of the trail.  Plush pine needles muffle our footfalls as we plod uphill once more.  I come to a complete stop, suddenly aware of only one pair of boots stirring the forest litter stretching behind us.  I turn to see my friend peering over a steep slope covered with fallen branches.  Tip-toeing to his vantage point, I ask what is holding his attention.  Shadows stir.  Streaming sunbeams illuminate a heap of dead branches directly before him, and he points at a Hermit Thrush hopping through the detritus into the open.  Its tawny shape scurries towards the protective folds of the felled timber.  I savor a momentary glimpse of the bird, one only marginally better than that enjoyed by my companion.  Satisfied that it has moved on, we continue our trek. Serenaded by Red-breasted Nuthatches, we stroll through the open glade we passed through at the beginning of our hike.  Black-capped Chickadees call periodically from the Hemlock stands as we approach the parking lot.  Concluding a conversation focusing upon the enduring quality and diversity of the habitat we have explored, we exchange goodbyes, rummaging through our cluttered car interiors as our minds and bodies are drawn slowly back to a weekend morning’s more quotidian activities.