Date: 4/27/25 6:26 am From: Ted Levin <tedlevin1966...> Subject: [VTBIRD] 27 April 2025: Hurricane Hill (1,100 feet), WRJ
5:48 a.m., one minute after sunrise. Thirty-seven degrees, wind
West-northwest seven miles per hour, gusting to twenty. Drizzling, cold, a
gloveless walk, fingers numb. Sky, overcast and uniform gray with a hint of
blue, end to end dull. The sun, like a fox in a hen house, sneaks up
unnoticed (by me, anyway)—a damp, cold, finger-numbing walk.
Earthworms, stupefied by the sudden change in temperature, migrate
slowly, *very
slowly* across the dirt road—sizes vary, an all-you-can-eat robin buffet.
Three days ago, red maples were in bloom, and then, quickly pollinated by
wind and bees, dropped their male flowers all at once, my path
red-spotted—another unvaccinated dirt road.
A few sugar maples are in flower, trees engulfed in a yellow-green haze.
Others lag, buds in various stages of swelling. Last year's seeds (keys),
viable through the winter, germinate at thirty-four degrees, the
lowest-known germinating temperature for a northern hardwood. Seedlings may
sprout at the edge of a retreating snow pack—the first, fresh grazeable
crop for woodland vegetarians.
Robins sleep in. Not chickadees, sweet song in full force. Everywhere, all
at once.
6:05 a.m.: One goldfinch joins the chickadee chorus.
6:07 a.m.: First robin agitatedly calls. Wakes up crabby ... on the wrong
side of the branch.
6:10 a.m.: Chipping sparrow trills, patter, patter, patter, song mimics the
rain.
6:18 a.m.: Red-bellied woodpecker calls, pileated and flicker laugh and
pound.
6:36 a.m.: Robins make up for lost time. Sapsucker and downy woodpecker
engage respective tree limbs. (There's no mistaking who's who.)
On the eve of leaving for another trip to Costa Rica, the only bird I
haven't seen or heard in White River that I would have expected to see by
the end of April is the blue-headed vireo. I've already seen or heard
Wilson's snipe, broad-winged hawk, house wren, and myrtle warbler. Where
are those turtle-paced vireos?
If I see any lingering Neotropical migrants, I'll usher them along.
