The intersection’s crisp dimensions emerge reassuringly from the half-light of dawn. The enticing patter of sporadic quacking ceases. Seizing upon the quiet interval, I steal forward past purplish tree trunks glistening from the previous night’s rain. I take a makeshift seat, a flimsy stool providing welcome distance between my anatomy and the muck below. Situated as comfortably as my position upon the muddy precipice allows, I take in the growing contours of the substantial pond. Panning my scope slowly about its periphery reveals a tantalizing multitude of snoozing forms. I marvel in having executed an arrival that has stopped short of irritating such a significant concentration of waterfowl and continue glassing. The sun steps up its progress above the tree line behind me, illuminating smooth dark feathers coursing across the water’s surface. A delicate sheen spreads across taut black upperparts. They advance in my direction, soon joined by a minute, jagged circle of white encircling a strangely detached dot of lavender. It increases slowly in size, transforming into a robust bill craning forward as plump cottony flanks etch intertwining ripples upon the water. A stout neck lunges abruptly forward, nipping spiky tail feathers. The afflicted party is brought short, and wheels to meet its attacker. Rearing out of the water in indignation, it flails its adversary with arresting chalky wing linings outlined in dove-gray. The initial aggressor quickly retreats, the victorious bird filling the air with an assertive barrage of triumphant quacks. Other Ring-necked Ducks rouse themselves, primping and preening before slipping quietly into the water. I detect a sudden onrush of air to my rear. I glance up in time to glimpse seven dramatic white semi-circles an instant before they splash into the water. The odd shapes are the tail feathers of Mallards, coalescing into the figures of four prim male bottle-green heads, soon followed by the soft orange bills of three females, heavily splotched with black.

Sunlight begins to push to the extremities of the pond, and shapes stir at the edge of its opposite shore. Four squat forms dart stealthily from the depths of the distant Tussock Sedge, striking white crests enlivening the gray waves. The Buffleheads’ foreheads and necks are showcased in full splendor by the robust morning sun. They flush emerald green, royal purple, and molten yellow in the scant seconds required to traverse the pond and join the other ducks wrangling with one another for access to the pond’s prime feeding areas. I momentarily divert my gaze from the gorging shapes to concentrate on the single pocket of shadow remaining at the pond’s furthest border. My scope settles upon a pocket of fallen birch branches, and I study the stationary trunks for any sign of movement. Wavelets lap against the glass-smooth timber, and I am engrossed by the subtle variety of the dimples and streaks in its surface. The water’s weak but continual motion appears to have nudged one of the fallen trees from its hold in the glistening muck. No longer held at anchor by the vacuum exerted by the deep mud, the largest portion of the detached trunk bobs softly in the water. Rotating into a position parallel with the shore, it settles into a stationary position. I expect to see a substantial blotch of light-colored pulpy wood appearing at the sever point on such a young tree, but I find myself gazing at an oval gray blob creased with a sharp vertical white line. I ratchet up the magnification on my scope, my gaze settling upon a nut-brown tuft directly above the white smear. Pristine interlocking back feathers as finely pointed as arrowheads form a jaunty collage. A black bill jabs at a spotted breast, a rust-colored head accentuated with a vibrant green stripe swiveling into full profile. Elaborate yet delicate vermiculation adorns gleaming flanks. The debonair Green-winged Teal decides to explore the pond’s deeper waters, and presses away from the shore. I follow its movement out into the open air, and am startled by a grayish bill sprinkled with black probing the water to the rear of the bird’s white tail feathers. I pan my scope to the right, locking onto a pale belly and breast dotted with brown. A female Green-winged Teal has noiselessly joined the svelte male, and as I continue glassing in her direction, I lock on to a steady stream of additional teal pouring out into the center of the pond towards the Mallards and Ring-necked Ducks. The pert formation arrives at the edge of the hubbub of additional duck species, expertly steering their way through the clamor.

TUR-WEE.

The gentle insistent note repeats, and I quietly reverse position. I fix my gaze upon the waterlogged sprawl of snags stretching for an eighth of a mile behind me, the likeliest source of sound. My eyes rake over the endless procession of ragged gray treetops, and I single out a wriggling form at the end of a graceful branch. I eagerly swivel the scope to drink in the tiny agitated bulge. A wedge of brown dotted with two black circles protrudes further away from the tip of the branch, dancing briefly in the precarious gap between a firm support and a certain tumble. Muted chatter continues, and I canvas the bare, dreary trees surrounding the branch tip for other likely points of origin. Dazzling blue blossoms at the center of a branch beneath the endearing brown speck. A pair of Eastern Bluebirds continues their animated conversation, the female’s keen dark eyes glancing downwards to take in the full splendor of her mate’s attire. She leaps down to join her mate on the lower perch, their banter momentarily interrupted by inquisitive three-note phrases emanating from a striped silhouette spiraling up the trunk below. A scarlet cap relentlessly hammers the hollow trunk, the percussive blows resonating through the still woods. The bluebirds’ garrulousness ceases, the perplexed thrushes temporarily at a loss for words. The burly male Red-bellied Woodpecker begins a wholehearted round of feeding, profuse bark chips spiraling haphazardly to the forest floor. Breakfast extracted, the bird departs with its characteristic flight, startling white wing patches blazing as it rolls away over the huge pond. The bluebirds’ perches cease their soft swaying induced by the woodpecker’s labors. I savor the male’s brilliant coloration for some minutes, and am delighted to witness the pair being joined by additional birds. The rounded crown of the battered snag is transformed into an engrossing study of the varying plumages of the species. Taking full advantage of telescopic magnification allows for prolonged study of the more prominent eye ring of the female, the remnants of tan speckling present on a first-year bird, and the magnetic azure of two mature males. My present aesthetic pleasures induce thoughts of savoring another species sporting riveting blue feathers. Temptation proves irresistible, and I leave the bluebirds to continue feeding and chattering amongst themselves, and return to the highway.

I creep forward eagerly on my seat, ripples shimmering outward from the confines of the dank vegetation. I wince at my poor judgment in executing such a sudden movement, and await an explosive uproar of flapping wings. Mercifully, none ensues. The distant muddy shore remains undisturbed, the hordes of teeming shapes continuing their muffled cackling and quacking. The din easily reaches my ears, even over this great distance. A pocket of tobacco-colored rectangular shapes with peculiar white accents snaps into focus. The bulge of a webbed foot appears at the lower right of the nearest hulking brown blob, and reaches up to scratch at a closed eyelid. A narrow white line rapidly inflates to its right, materializing into a magnificent crest crisply partitioned into two areas, one black, and one white. The striking male Hooded Merganser rouses itself, its body rising from the massive log, powerful feet turning the bird about in a semicircle, gaining it the surer footing it seeks. It sets forth purposefully, promptly plunging beneath the water and surfacing with a squirming silvery catch that is quickly consumed. Her hunger perhaps aroused by the male’s success, a female Hooded Merganser splashes into the quiet eddy and begins a quest for food of her own. The brilliant yellow iris of the male bird dispatches a wary stare, and it paddles to a more secluded portion of the shaded inlet. My gaze is inevitably drawn to the chaos beyond, and I pivot my scope from left to right, settling upon a concentration of sleek, inky-black bodies. Yellowish bills mated to light brown heads with prominent black caps delve into the shallows. The birds fan out into the deeper water from their present position close to shore. They begin to feed wholeheartedly, the water soon dotted with upended posteriors topped by bright orange legs. The birds’ flawless eye-catching white wing linings flash in the sun, highlighted by steel-blue speculae. A more somber bird hovers at the periphery of the flock of Black Ducks, a black eye line coming into view as it nears the group. A uniformly dark bill draws attention to a chalky quarter-sized white dimple at the base of its bill. The bird pauses to preen, a hint of a green speculum peeking through tousled brown wing feathers. I scope behind the bird, stopping at a blazing half-moon of white. A hunch begins to boil slowly in my stomach. I tip my scope sharply downwards, savoring a magnificently stippled flank ending at an additional cotton-ball sized patch of white. A yellowish foot stirs the water beneath it. A peculiar black stripe flashes over the water. Water churns wildly. A cacophony of alarm calls fills the swamp, ducks blackening the sky. My subject vanishes, the immaculate male Blue-winged Teal and its mate joining the frantic exodus of ducks vaulting away over the bare trees. The conspicuous pairing of unmistakable sky-blue wing coverts and green speculae are visible for a full thirty seconds in my binoculars as they dash to the horizon. I glance up, and take in an ominous two-toned silhouette tracing the outline of the marsh. A nonplussed Turkey Vulture briefly swivels its head toward the torrent of departing waterfowl, the flurry of activity a brief source of puzzlement. The huge raptor continues on its course, and I scope the marsh again for any sign of remaining birds or new arrivals that may have arrived undetected during the commotion. I pause to chuckle at an enormous pair of skinny legs topped by slightly disheveled white feathers and an enormous bill. A well-hidden hidden Great Blue Heron continues to snooze beneath overhanging evergreen boughs, oblivious to the recent pandemonium. I wipe the glop from my tripod legs and begin a slow trudge uphill.

I return to the tiny stone bridge at which I had stopped briefly earlier during my hike, thankful to train my eyes upon uncluttered open water at last. My senses are engulfed by a decisive shift in the seasonal rhythm, my travels having impelled me across the fleeting divide existing between fall and winter. The sun retreats behind a dismal veil of leaden clouds as snatches of light drizzle pelt my jacket. I erect a scope and canvas the huge expanse of water, now peppered with white caps in the rising wind. A resolute quartet of Common Loons has divided the extensive area between them, effortlessly knifing through the waves in their respective spans of the reservoir. I focus upon an inert brown blob that appears to be drifting with a slight current. The dark shape readjusts its course, and a black dome bordered by a substantial patch of white suddenly juts into view above it. A ponderous black bill shudders, dispensing a patter of water droplets. Far too spatulate for that of a loon, it holds my attention for several seconds. Facial features coalesce into a meaningful whole, the completed avian head morphing into that of a female Black Scoter. I shift my attention to the bird’s left, readjusting focus to accommodate an unusually bright orange dot. Too small for any sort of channel marker, I assume it to be discarded fishing tackle, until it begins to propel itself with remarkable precision. A colorful orange bill and svelte ebony feathers come into sharp focus, a brawny male Black Scoter stopping in close proximity to its counterpart. The pair feeds alternately, occasionally allowing for fine views of their pewter wing linings. Directing my gaze away from the actively feeding scoters reveals an additional pair loafing two hundred yards away. Perhaps detecting the success of those that initially grabbed my attention, they take flight in my direction. The birds nearby rise and fall with the action of the waves, and in a descending interval, allow for a glimpse of the more distant water, where I detect two white dots separated by a black patch breaching the surface. A bulbous smear of varied hues emerges at the top of a wave, the mélange of color resembling a misshapen gob of candy-corn. An unblinking white eye becomes visible. Beefy charcoal shoulders flex, displaying uniformly dark wings. The male Surf Scoter chugs forward, unfazed by the rough seas. A chestnut figure heaves into view, windblown spray rapidly beading up and vanishing from its neck and back as it closes with the male duck. It displays a head and crown so dark that it appears strangely eyeless. Haggard patches of white materialize to the rear of a massive black bill, conveying the impression of a chocolate donut dipped in confectioner’s sugar. The female Surf Scoter submerges, neatly dodging an incoming rush of water. As it vanishes, my eyes are drawn to a cluster of gulls hovering far above the most distant water. A small group of Ring-billed Gulls negotiates the volatile air mass, yellow bills encircled with black bands tucked well into their chests to avoid the brunt of the gale. A pair of Herring Gulls orbits above them, pushing still higher as they decide that the currents below are too potent to easily plot a course through. A nearly uniform white head displaying a neat blue-gray dimple at its rear streaks through my field of vision. It sweeps upward on the wind, exposing arresting black lesser and median wing coverts. It soon levels off, twitching a tail exhibiting a thin black border, and also displaying a green bill tipped with black that is needle-thin in comparison to those of the neighboring Ring-billeds. The bird’s full wingspan is now put forward for inspection, also showcasing a trim black line stretching the full expanse of the lower edge of the wings. Alternating white and black outer primaries provide a finishing framework for identification. The dramatically plumaged first-year Bonaparte’s Gull disappears behind a small island, and fails to resurface from the lush pocket of evergreens.

Craving birdsong, I leave the gulls to their self-assured acrobatics. I scramble up a craggy overgrown hillside accompanied by the grating squawks of three Common Ravens tumbling in and out of the low-hanging clouds. I seat myself in the midst of a collection of scattered glacial erratics and focus my scope upon a dank pocket of vegetation below. Unassuming twittering reaches my ears, and myriad white stripes flicker in the branches. The prominent white rectrices of an energetic troupe of Dark-eyed Juncos continue to dance through the remaining foliage, stopping short at a pair of bright white wing bars situated at the midpoint of a hedgerow. The two striking lines flit to the right of the advancing juncos, joined by a swelling tide of additional wing bars. A brick-red crown sliced in two by a broad gray stripe darts to the top of a Winterberry shrub, bringing his comrades to a halt. A tan smear blushes from the edge of a folded wing that neatly transitions into a marble-smooth, uniformly gray breast accentuated by a black central spot. The Tree Sparrows and juncos mix, and continue their foraging along the length of the shrubbery, sweeping up several White-throated Sparrows in their energetic feeding. The ample flock disperses, vanishing into a steep depression filled with undergrowth. Light fades, and I find myself glancing up along with the birds, gauging time.

American Black Duck        26
American Crow        13
American Goldfinch        5
American Kestrel        1
American Robin        19
American Tree Sparrow        14
American Wigeon        4
Bald Eagle         5
Barred Owl         1
Belted Kingfisher         2
Black Scoter        4
Black-capped Chickadee        6
Blue Jay        12
Blue-winged Teal        2
Bonaparte's Gull        1
Brown Creeper        4
Bufflehead        6
Canada Goose        22
Carolina Wren        1
Cedar Waxwing        6
Common Goldeneye        4
Common Loon        4
Common Merganser         21
Common Raven        3
Common Snipe        1
Dark-eyed Junco        22
Double-crested Cormorant        7
Downy Woodpecker        2
Eastern Bluebird        7
Gadwall        3
Golden-crowned Kinglet        9
Great Black-backed Gull        1
Great Blue Heron        2
Great Horned Owl        1
Greater Scaup        4
Green-winged Teal        17
Hairy Woodpecker        2
Hermit Thrush        1
Herring Gull        2
Hooded Merganser        13
Horned Grebe        2
House Finch        1
Mallard        17
Merlin        1
Mourning Dove        5
Northern Cardinal        4
Osprey        1
Peregrine Falcon        1
Pileated Woodpecker        2
Red-bellied Woodpecker        3
Red-breasted Nuthatch        5
Red-necked Grebe        3
Red-shouldered Hawk        1
Red-tailed Hawk        2
Red-throated Loon        1
Red-winged Blackbird        11
Ring-billed Gull        5
Ring-necked Duck        9
Rock Dove        10
Ruby Meadowhawk*        1
Ruby-crowned Kinglet        3
Ruffed Grouse         2
Sharp-shinned Hawk        1
Snow Bunting        11
Song Sparrow        5
Surf Scoter        3
Swamp Sparrow        2
Tufted Titmouse        3
Turkey Vulture        4
White-breasted Nuthatch        6
White-crowned Sparrow        1
White-throated Sparrow        13
Wood Duck        3
Yellow-rumped Warbler        1

* - MANY thanks to Sheila Carroll for providing a superb photo of this dragonfly in one of her recent blog entries! During this particular outing, one of these vermilion gems landed on my tripod during an all-too-short sunny interval when I was immersed in studying the abundant waterfowl present at Gate 37. Utterly dumbfounded as to what it was, I scrambled through my backpack in hopes of stumbling upon my odonate guide, but to no avail.

As argumentative Great Blue Herons ceased their hoarse bickering over prime
feeding grounds and a magnificent adult Osprey sporting glassy, jet-black
plumage departed with a dramatic flourish, this particular evening's viewing
rapidly distinguished itself as a mesmerizing study in the systematic
feeding practices of the Common Nighthawk! Powered by equal parts mischief
and aggression, a female Belted Kingfisher occasionally succeeded in
breaking the feeding nighthawks' ranks as it snatched stray small fish from
the water?s surface, but the agile insectivores held sway throughout.  I was
also treated to the sight of an American Bittern springing into the air
above impenetrable Tussock Sedge, perhaps bowed by the concentration of
nighthawks streaming over the water's surface.  The stout heron neatly
orbited the marsh upon sooty-tipped wings before vanishing to the southwest.

The peculiar handicaps of crystalline yet nearly windless viewing conditions
and an overpowering mosquito presence made initial detection of nighthawk
movement difficult.  However, an enchanting pattern emerged.  The number of
birds present remained remarkably constant throughout the evening,
fluctuating between 100 to 115 individuals.  The birds arrived shortly
before 5:45 P.M. as an extremely diffuse, high-flying group, slowly
coalescing into a more compact cluster.  Acrobatics were up to the
predictably high nightjar standard, the birds bobbing and weaving
erratically with breathtaking speed while gorging on the staggering numbers
of mosquitoes present.  Viewing conditions at the horizon remained
surpassingly good throughout the observation period, with nearly ninety
birds consistently remaining in low orbit over the glimmering marsh,
spiraling repeatedly from heaven to earth and back, their superbly
orchestrated movements transforming the flock into
 an eerie feathered carousel.  Brilliantly silhouetted against a backdrop of
glowing soft purple clouds as the sun set, multiple sets of white wing spots
flashed irregularly against the evergreen-draped southwestern sky, a great
many birds often visible with the naked eye!  A regal Great Egret fed
contentedly in the shallows, unfazed by the unearthly shapes darting a mere
three feet above it.


American Bittern        1
American Black Duck     2
American Crow   4
American Goldfinch      11
American Robin  6
Baltimore Oriole        2
Barn Swallow    37
Barred Owl      1
Belted Kingfisher       1
Black-capped Chickadee  5
Black-throated Green Warbler    2
Blue Jay        1
Brown Creeper   1
Canada Goose    9
Carolina Wren   1
Cedar Waxwing   22
Chimney Swift   14
Chipping Sparrow        1
Common Grackle  8
COMMON NIGHTHAWK        115
Common Yellowthroat     1
Cooper?s Hawk   1
Double-crested Cormorant        2
Downy Woodpecker        1
Eastern Kingbird        2
Eastern Phoebe  3
Eastern Wood Pewee      1
European Starling       32
Gray Catbird    2
Great Blue Heron        5
Great Egret     1
Green Heron     2
Hairy Woodpecker        1
Harrier *1
Hermit Thrush   1
Hooded Merganser        4
House Wren      1
Indigo Bunting  1
Killdeer        2
Mallard 4
Merlin  1
Northern Cardinal       3
Northern Flicker        1
Osprey  1
Red-breasted Nuthatch   2
Red-tailed Hawk 1
Red-winged Blackbird    41
Ruby-throated Hummingbird       1
Scarlet Tanager 1
Song Sparrow    3
Swamp Sparrow   2
Tree Swallow    53
Tufted Titmouse 1
Turkey Vulture  6
White-breasted Nuthatch 3
Wood Duck       7
Wood Thrush     2
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker        1


* - female

The conclusion of a series of violent thunderstorms very early Saturday morning saw
many birds eagerly taking advantage of calmer conditions.  Cavity nesters were quick
to take advantage of the carnage wrought by the storm activity, eagerly exploring
the shattered tree trunks and battered branches for hapless insect larvae.  A
stunning Great Egret parsed the shallows visible behind the Massachusetts Division
of Fisheries and Wildlife barn along Mackay Road, soft breezes tousling the
statuesque wader’s feathers, a magnet for the fleeting rays of a short-lived
sunrise.  A loose flock of Wood Ducks fed and preened vigorously, with juvenile
males providing a wonderfully engaging study of plumage development.  Through
binoculars, their motley array of nascent head feathers left the impression of a
handful of battered Christmas ornaments strewn along the distant waterline.  

Bringing a scope to bear upon a quartet of Northern Flickers spread along a half
mile of broken tree line supplied much amusement.  The rotund woodpeckers hammered
breakage points with wild abandon, one bird generating a nearly continuous stream of
dark bark fragments as it gorged on readily available provender.  Oblivious to the
intensity of its efforts, the bark beneath its feet began to detach rapidly, the
bird being driven into the air as its perch became too precarious to manage!

Traipsing along the border of the massive cornfield accessible from the pull-off at
the bottom of Mackay Road coaxed an American Woodcock aloft, the bird streaking away
like a disembodied leaf, whistling through the air and instantly vanishing into the
weedy turf beyond.  Gray Catbirds bawled incessantly from the depths of the willow
grove abutting the water.  Distant whistled triplets arced steadily over the marsh. 
An evenly checkered graphite-gray back and wings, followed by gleaming white
uppertail coverts, plunked down on one of the few open patches of mud to be found
along the waterlogged border.  A stately upturned bill swiveled to and fro.  Shining
black eyes darted over the landscape, finding it free of any sign of danger.  The
Greater Yellowlegs eased into the shallows, its travels taking it past a loafing
pair of Green-winged Teal.   A glowing ruby ember hung suspended above the rippling
water, hurtling suddenly towards its edge.  After
 examining the elegant sandpiper and dozing teal, it rocketed away towards a
bedraggled maple sapling.  The Ruby-throated Hummingbird alighted upon its tip,
leaning slightly forward, calmly studying the water in an effort to distinguish
other occupants of the secluded eddy.  Finding none, it bolted from its perch,
darting toward a sumptuous array of Orange Jewelweed.  As enchanted by the lush
flowers as the tiny bird, I followed its hyperactive shape to the edge of the
vibrant blossoms.  Briefly perceiving me as a potential threat, the feisty bird
abruptly turned and hovered at eye level a mere six feet away, boldly asserting its
dominion over the vivid orange flowers.  Its whirring silhouette unflinchingly
mimicked my every move, and I marveled at its tenacity.  Happy to leave the bird to
its reward, I slogged well around it into the thick of the soggy waist high grass,
seeking out an unobtrusive observation point from which to examine the distant
 water.  I erected a scope and settled into a portable seat, opting to glass the
swallows hurtling through the sultry air.  A furtive movement appeared in the
corner of my non-viewing eye, and I ceased gazing at the swallows to determine its
source.  The tip of a slender wedge of glistening muck yielded a pudgy shape
surrounded by dancing ripples.  It inched further into the sun, revealing a back
streaked with bold tawny stripes.  The bird pivoted sharply to the right, an
arresting bill snapping into view.  As I refined my focus upon the bird’s head, its
bulbous black eyes came into clear view, conveying genuine fear.  A prodigious
shadow swept over the water, propelling the stout blob aloft and away from me on a
zig-zagging course, its squat orange tail seemingly buoyed by a hoarse chant of
SCRAPE! SCRAPE! SCRAPE!  As the Red-tailed Hawk doubled back upon a promising
thermal, the Wilson’s Snipe plunged into a thoroughly inaccessible portion of the
 adjacent swamp, invisible once more.  The hawk’s head swiveled slightly, perhaps
taken in by the sudden distraction below.  Soon reabsorbed in its study of the
landscape, the brawny raptor circled rapidly out of sight.  As sweat stung my eyes,
I decided to return later in the day when temperatures would cool, and a
potentially awe-inspiring annual migration pattern would unfold. 

I arrived at the Winimussett Wildlife Management Area parking lot at roughly 5:30
and promptly snapped a scope into place, faint snatches of tiny raindrops pelting
the windows of my car.  The shifting cloudscape conveyed a distinctly menacing air,
varying hues of metallic gray and garish orange set in motion by a cool, strangely
pleasant breeze. The musical, percussive slosh of an American Bittern’s call hung
over the billowing tall grass.  After some twenty-five minutes of canvassing empty
skies, my ears and eyes were inevitably drawn to the intermittent snatches of
passerine song emanating from the surrounding shrubs and the spectacular array of
Wood Ducks coursing through the shimmering waters of the marsh.  The tumbling notes
of an Indigo Bunting’s song cascaded relentlessly from the spare branches of a
nearby maple, and I was happy to lock my scope onto its searing blue outline, having
despaired of detecting any significant nighthawk activity. 
 A sudden breeze swept the bunting into the taller trees across the road.  As it
alighted in the crown of a dying oak, my heart leapt.  Though somewhat out of
focus, unmistakably limber wings tipped with luminous white patches knifed through
the gloom.  I switched to binocular viewing to discern if it was a lone bird or one
of many.  The bird stood out in stark relief against the sky, completely isolated. 
I followed it from horizon to horizon, and acquired the bird in the scope when it
became too distant to study easily with binoculars.  It swerved into a glowing band
of light swelling along the southern horizon, and I savored the more accommodating
view.  I craned my neck upward, taking in the snatches of birds pushing overhead
and joining their comrades coursing past the radiant strip of clouds that first
grabbed my interest.  I was delighted to find other nighthawks accumulating slowly
in this brightly illuminated patch of sky, swooping and diving in
 every direction after what must have been an enormous hatch of insects.  Their
numbers continued to swell, the flock pushing slowly west over the adjacent farm
fields, merging with additional birds directly over the intersection of Hardwick
and West Roads.  The triple-digit flock fed voraciously, mouths agape, birds
tumbling wildly in every direction. The dense cloud of nighthawks remained
concentrated above the intersection for a full twenty minutes, slowly reversing
direction and streaking back over the quadrant of the compass they had previously
traced from south to west.  Lighting temporarily improved, with scope viewing
during the birds’ "return leg" providing far more gratifying images than just a
mere half hour before, the birds’ pale undertail coverts and prominently barred
outer tail feathers clearly visible.  As the time neared 7:30, the birds gradually
dispersed to the south, rain-spattered gloom quickly enveloping the landscape as
 nightfall and intimidating thunderheads approached.  

American Bittern        1
American Black Duck        6
American Crow        11
American Goldfinch        28
American Redstart        3
American Robin        22
American Woodcock        1
Bald Eagle         1
Baltimore Oriole        2
Barn Swallow        58
Barred Owl        1
Belted Kingfisher        3
Black and White Warbler        1
Black-capped Chickadee        5
Black-throated Green Warbler        3
Blue Jay        8
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher        1
Bobolink        4
Brown Creeper        2
Canada Goose        11
Carolina Wren         1
Cedar Waxwing        26
Chimney Swift        28
Chipping Sparrow        1
Common Grackle        5
COMMON NIGHTHAWK         128
Common Yellowthroat        4
Cooper’s Hawk        1
Double-crested Cormorant        2
Downy Woodpecker        3
Eastern Kingbird        5
Eastern Phoebe        4
Eastern Towhee        1
Eastern Wood Pewee        1
European Starling        15
Gray Catbird        6
Great Blue Heron        3
Great Egret        1
Greater Yellowlegs        1
Green Heron        1
Green-winged Teal        2
Hairy Woodpecker        5
Hermit Thrush        1
House Wren        3
Indigo Bunting        1
Killdeer        3
Mallard        1
Northern Cardinal        2
Northern Flicker        5
Ovenbird        1
Red-breasted Nuthatch        2
Red-eyed Vireo        6
Red-tailed Hawk        2
Red-winged Blackbird        8
Ruby-throated Hummingbird        1
Scarlet Tanager        2
Semipalmated Plover        3
Short-billed Dowitcher        5
Solitary Sandpiper        1
Song Sparrow        5
Spotted Sandpiper        1
Swamp Sparrow        2
Tree Swallow        189
Tufted Titmouse        1
Turkey Vulture        7
Warbling Vireo         1
White-breasted Nuthatch        3
Wild Turkey         14
Willow Flycatcher        1
Wilson's Snipe        2
Wood Duck        14
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker        1
Yellow-billed Cuckoo        1

The light-morph Rough-legged Hawk reported by Chris Buelow on January 4th reappeared today at the Mackay Road entrance to Winimusset Wildlife Management Area adjacent to the Massachusetts Division of Fish & Wildlife barn. Scoping the distant snags visible from the periphery of the willow saplings near the water’s edge produced a mammoth hulk glued to the tip of a sickly white pine at 11:18 A.M. Relishing the warmth of the cloudless day, the raptor gamely preened and flexed its wings in the late-morning sun, allowing for first-rate viewing of its glowing upper tail coverts accentuated with black and brown bars. Closer scrutiny revealed erratic chestnut streaks adorning a dirty white breast. Satisfied with its appearance, it deftly rotated on its perch, folded its wings, straightened its silhouette, and fixed its gaze on the opposite horizon. Positioned in this fashion, its flawless white tail adorned with an immaculate black subterminal band allowed for easy detection of the bird without the use of optics. Finding nothing of interest in the landscape below, the hawk took to the air at 12:37 P.M., flapping steadily towards the southwest horizon. Plodding in and out of the dense underbrush on the return hike to my car allowed for superb views of a Northern Mockingbird sedately perched in the growing warmth of the afternoon sun. It appeared to be snoozing contentedly, eyes narrowed to slits, breast feathers puffed up into a state of slight dishevelment. A compact flock of Dark-eyed Juncos temporarily stopped feeding at the base of a patch of Staghorn Sumac to come and investigate the strangely quiet songster, flitting close to the sleeping blob in twos and threes, perhaps in an attempt to rouse it to its usual state of raucous animation. Unsuccessful, the dapper sprites soon dispersed.

Arriving at my car situated at Hardwick Road at 1:20 P.M., I erected my scope in hopes of picking out the Rough-legged Hawk flying from one perch to another or hovering in distinctive fashion over the countryside below, fixing suitable quarry in its gaze. The sound of rubber tires crunching over ice and snow filled my ears at a quarter to the hour. Turning to investigate the sound, I was delighted to see veteran hawk-watcher Bart Kamp emerging from his car. We exchanged greetings, conveyed a mutual interest in catching another glimpse of the Rough-legged Hawk, and immediately engaged in feverish observation. Mr. Kamp adroitly locked onto the raptor chugging steadily westward above a grove of White Pines filling the southern horizon at 2:05 P.M. It landed at the center of a large maple, barely discernible even at the higher magnification provided by Bart’s scope. Our fixation generated enough interest to pull one passer-by into the tiny parking lot. Photographer Dick Bouviere was soon happily studying the distant speck, switching scopes periodically to gain a better understanding of relevant field marks. The Rough-leg soon shifted position, plunking down in a snag next to a pine with distinctively spiky branches. Content with his observations, Mr. Bouviere departed at 2:45 P.M. Bart and I resumed our positions at our scopes and the Rough-leg took to the air once more, flapping briefly west before disappearing behind impenetrable tree canopy. Bart and I junketed further west on Hardwick Road in an attempt to keep the hawk in view. Crunching over the glare of the snowy fields, we glimpsed the bird flying to a perch on a bleak hillside. Establishing itself at this location with a flurry of wings, the hawk’s darker shape was swallowed by the shadowy depths of the surrounding oaks. We soon despaired of securing additional views of the hawk against such a murky background, and we directed our attention to the open water along Winimusset Brook. Three jaunty shapes dotting the waterway coalesced into a trio of Hooded Mergansers. Finding nothing of any interest in the surrounding hedgerows, we concluded our observations.

Early-morning observation at alternate locations produced a wealth of passerines. A robust flock of Tree Sparrows fed energetically at the Robinson dairy farm along North Road in Hardwick, providing entertaining viewing as they jostled for prime feeding areas in a clump of Winterberry abutting a stone wall. A comparatively tiny flock of White-throated Sparrows put down well away from the Tree Sparrows, awaiting an opportunity to parse the remaining morsels of spilled grain. Analyzing the frenzy of darting feathers, I was pleased to find a lone juvenile White-crowned Sparrow perched high above the fracas, situated in the uppermost reaches of the Multiflora Rose adjacent to the feeding area. The bird’s head briefly resembled some strange new fruit, its even brown and gray striping appearing suspended from a symmetrical overhanging bower of thorny branches. A contingent of American Pipits danced gaily over the stubble of a nearby cornfield as a trim squadron of Canada Geese bugled overhead. Stirred aloft by the cacophony, a pair of Red-bellied Woodpeckers undulated crazily through the upper reaches of a Sugar Maple, brilliant white wing patches popping like flash bulbs. A diffuse flock of Eastern Bluebirds surveyed the tumult, calling plaintively to one another before streaking away over a dilapidated outbuilding. Quiet suddenly engulfed the landscape, the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of water dripping from the end of a thawing gutter upon an overturned plastic tub the only sound. A sooty shape arced over the farmstead upon motionless, elegant wings. It descended, an intimidating hooked beak swiveling left and right. Finding the shrubbery below devoid of potential prey, the Merlin propelled itself upward with flickering wing beats, and vanished into the gleaming sun.

As the peak morning feeding hours began to wane, I opted to exchange the sunny expanses of open farmland for the cool depths of the evergreen forest surrounding the Quabbin. As I exited the car after arriving at the Gate 43 parking lot on Greenwich Road, an adult Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in flawless plumage greeted me. The bird neatly pivoted into view from the opposite side of a tree trunk directly across from the gate almost immediately after I began glassing the tree branches. Picking my way towards the boat launch along the access road into Gate 43 revealed a merry troupe of Golden-crowned Kinglets, vocalizing strongly as they pirouetted in the slender, denuded twigs of the mixed forest lining the roadway. Curiosity piqued, I scrambled through the deadfall filling the slope on the west side of the road. A pair of Red-breasted Nuthatches sounded an alarm as my boots snapped through the thinner branches strewn along the forest floor. A piercing, silvery burst of haphazard notes grabbed my attention. My expectations mushroomed as a rufous shoulder patch sprinted to the top of a jagged expanse of stone wall. An afterthought of a brown tail edged with tan zigzagged along its length and quickly disappeared. The erratic song tumbled through the branches a second time. Moments later, a thin, tiny bill appeared in profile. A frosty eye line twitched to and fro. The Winter Wren took in my shadow spreading over the snow and fled once more at my approach. I lamented the dynamic wren’s disappearance, and traipsed down the remaining stretch of asphalt leading to Quabbin’s edge. Icy gusts promptly snatched my parka hood from my head as I emerged from the mature forest and rounded the curve to the dam at the boat launch. A mass of twinkling white feathers rode the swelling air currents, and rapidly fell to earth. I seized the opportunity to deploy a cumbersome scope, and promptly used it to scan the sandy wastes abutting the neatly stacked DCR watercraft. Buff backs with ebony stripes skittered in several directions. The wind strengthened as a flurry of ivory feathers oscillated like strobe lights across the open sandy ground. The Snow Buntings swirled to a well-coordinated landing a hundred yards away, and I savored the challenge of keeping their superbly camouflaged shapes in focus as they milled in and out of sight against a background of highly variegated soil. As the flock took flight again and vanished into a distant patch of gravel, I departed in search of additional species and warmer environs.

American Goldfinch        21
American Pipit        8
American Robin        38
Bald Eagle         2
Belted Kingfisher        1
Black Duck        3
Black-capped Chickadee        13
Blue Jay        11
Canada Goose        15
Carolina Wren         1
Chipping Sparrow        3
Common Crow        17
Common Loon        1
Common Redpoll        5
Cooper's Hawk         1
Dark-eyed Junco         12
Downy Woodpecker         4
Eastern Bluebird        5
European Starling         9
Golden-crowned Kinglet        7
Hairy Woodpecker         3
Hooded Merganser         8
House Finch        4
House Sparrow        58
Mallard        2
Merlin        1
Mourning Dove         16
Northern Cardinal        5
Northern Flicker        1
Northern Harrier        1
Northern Mockingbird        3
Pine Siskin        27
Purple Finch        6
Red-bellied Woodpecker         4
Red-breasted Nuthatch        2
Red-tailed Hawk         1
Ring-billed Gull        2
Rock Pigeon        38
Rough-legged Hawk        1
Ruby-crowned Kinglet        1
Sharp-shinned Hawk         1
Snow Bunting        15
Song Sparrow        5
Swamp Sparrow        2
Tree Sparrow         22
Tufted Titmouse        13
White-breasted Nuthatch         7
White-crowned Sparrow (imm.)        1
White-throated Sparrow        6
Wild Turkey         14
Winter Wren        1
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker        1