April Showers

April showers arrived right on schedule here on Roundtop. Overnight a warm spring drizzle has dampened the forest. This morning I stepped outside the cabin and found more evidence of new spring growth than was here just the previous evening. Once spring gets underway, the changes take place rapidly.

The tiny mystery seedlings that I photographed yesterday are already perhaps a quarter of an inch higher, though their identity is still a mystery. Here and there I find more greenery starting to poke up through the ground, leaves still whorled tightly. I expect that the next sunny day will bring an explosion of greenery to the mountain. On a day like that, if I spent it sitting outside, I expect I could see almost hourly changes.

Last evening I was going through my birding records for March and 2008 so far. Nothing about the number of species I’ve accumulated is unusual—in fact that is all very normal. I’ve had some excellent species during the new year—redpolls are about a once every 10 years kind of visitor here. Siskins and purple finch are more common than that but lately I don’t even see them every year.

Every year here on the mountain brings at least a few uncommon species, but there’s no predicting what those species will be. It might be waterfowl or an uncommon warbler or even a shorebird. That’s part of the fun of keeping track of what I see each year.

A few species that I haven’t see yet might be evidence of a migration that’s timed, so far, just slightly later than last year. Last year’s migration seemed early to me, so this year’s later arrivals are actually more normally timed, by my records. March 2008 turned out to be slightly cooler than average overall, a result that gets rarer with each year. So I’m not complaining about what haven’t seen yet, just noting the timing.

In my photo this morning the woods outside the cabin looks a bit dreary. It didn't feel dreary to me. The dampness deadens my footfall through the leaves, and the rising hill draws me towards it. I would have liked to spend the day wandering through these woods. But today duty calls and work awaits.

A Weekend Walk

I took a walk into the woods on Sunday, a warm hazy day that felt like the first true day of summer. I followed one of the old dirt logging roads that winds across the mountain and then down towards its base and along the valley. For this walk, I stayed higher up on the hill and didn’t go down by the creek. Deerflies are starting to be annoying right now. By staying higher on the hill, even a faint breeze helped keep them at bay. I saw several deer, including a buck who’s antlers were already above his ears, and with just a wide knob where the tines will branch. I’ve also been seeing a doe who comes out of the woods and walks down the pond. I think the deerflies were bothering her too, as she seems to be spending more time in the open than she was just last week. I’m sure she has at least one fawn in the dense thicket, but she hasn’t brought them out into the open yet.

I also saw a doe with two smaller deer—not fawns but likely last year’s fawns. It was not long after dawn, and they came out to the big new pond for water. After they sipped as much as they wanted, they ran around the bank, chasing each other and running, apparently just for the enjoyment of it.

The woods are very dense right now. I can’t see more than 10-15 feet into them unless I find a spot where a few downed trees create a bit of an opening. All weekend long I’ve been hearing the yellow-billed cuckoo calling all over the mountain. I suspect it hasn’t found a mate. Unfortunately, this isn’t a surprise as the birds are pretty uncommon. I hear it in the early morning and again in the evening. It really doesn’t make a sound that in any way says “cuckoo.” If anything, to me it sounds a little bit like a single “coo” similar to a dove’s. Except that this “coo” is loud, and even “coo” doesn’t describe it very well. I haven’t seen this cuckoo at all this year. But I will hear it call constantly for a minute or two. Then it will be silent but I’ll hear it again in a different spot a minute or so later. Sometimes it’s nearer, sometimes further away. Sometimes I hear in on the north side of the mountain, sometimes to the south or west of me. But I only ever hear one.