Times: 2:47 A.M. - 2:27 P.M.

I peer through glass, stretching and squinting involuntarily, my eyes and face 
taken aback upon registering long-forgotten warmth.  A bulky raptor wafts 
overhead, also appearing to savor the strangely mild conditions, its robust 
feathered legs dangling in exultation from the peculiarly balmy air above.  My 
footfalls soften abruptly.  I pause to register the sudden silence, realizing 
that my fixation with the sky has slowed my pace and altered my course, 
pressing me away from the perilous sheet of ice engulfing the trail.  My feet 
rest easily upon its more stable earthen shoulder that is only partially 
frozen.  The delicate trickle of water reaches my ears, my footwear squishing 
audibly as I reach the trail's boundary.  The satisfying scent of moist, fecund 
earth no longer held in abeyance by the unyielding grip of winter fills my 
nostrils, rivulets of water coursing out from beneath the vanishing sheet of 
ice.  I welcome the sudden shade offered by my  passing behind the ample girth 
of a maple trunk, and brace a scope within the accommodating elbow of one of 
its sturdier branches, eager to relish a moment of glare-free gazing.  Russet 
flashes against azure.  The tail of the burly Red-tailed Hawk twitches 
tentatively, gauging the strength of the newly formed thermal as the bird 
adopts a languorous upward course towards the potent sun.  Subtly altering its 
angle to the earth, the hawk melts away, evaporating into the sapphire bosom of 
the heavens as magisterially as it arrived.  I scan the skies around its 
vanishing point, finding nothing.  I trudge forward into the entrance of a 
favorite clearing, my progress quickly halted as my ears seize upon a wild 
slurry of notes.  Hesitant, liquid chatter surges to a crescendo.

CHIIICK-ER-A-CHEE!

The trajectory of the sound alters.  I pivot to parse the treetops that are now 
behind me, my gaze fixing upon the cloud of fluttering wings alighting amongst 
the austere upper branches of the trees comprising the vast hedgerow.  As 
gleaming heads and silvery bills churn out an unremitting din, my eyes dance 
over the agitated shapes, pausing at a silhouette remarkably more well 
proportioned than its rakishly long-tailed companions.

TCHK-A-LEEEE!

The bird sports a stubbier and decidedly trimmer physique that stands in marked 
contrast to that of its cohorts, and as it continues to hold my attention, my 
excitement grows.  I study its more subdued coloration further, the bird's 
plumage appearing strangely somber and listless in the rich light of early 
morning when judged against that of its comparatively gaudy counterparts, a 
mere afterthought of bottle-green permeating its flanks and scapulars when 
matched against the flamboyant gleaming emerald of its associates.

KEE-YER- KEE-YER KEE-YER KEE-YER!

The flock swells into the air, and I perform a complete scan of the surrounding 
terrain and sky.  I laugh aloud upon taking in a mischievous Blue Jay peering 
out from a squat evergreen, uttering an imitation of a Red-shouldered Hawk so 
mercilessly accurate it has succeeded in whipping the flock of Icterids into a 
frenzy, the birds exiting in pell-mell fashion.  Pressing my scope along the 
length and breadth of the departing flock reveals a squat, lone Rusty Blackbird 
darting in and out of the hordes of Common Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds, 
its keening exclamations differing markedly in pitch from the gruff, burry 
squawks of the grackles and the insistent, monotone shrieks of the Red-wings. 
The rambunctious throng spills over the horizon, silence once again enveloping 
the landscape.  I press forward, the haphazard trail shaping my travels dipping 
to the edge of a vast hillside.  My feet succumb to the urge to trace its 
sweeping contours, and I part the branches running the length of the stone wall 
separating the dank woods from the sunny landscape beyond.  I pick my way into 
the open and traipse down the enormous expanse, and am pleasantly startled by 
the resident Red-tailed Hawk dipping over the trees.  It fixes me with a 
methodical stare, studying me briefly before resuming its morning hunt.  The 
strapping hawk boils upward on the edge of a thermal, its fearsome profile 
jostling crisp white feathers off of their tenuous perch atop the swaying bare 
branches of a nearby grove of hickories.  Glass-smooth whistled notes float 
into my ears, followed by a prating babble uttered in perfect cadence with 
wildly flapping wing feathers.

EE-chuk!

A stout shape vividly accented by tan and black swoops from the treetops to the 
spongy earth beneath, holding sway over the newly exposed turf by striding 
boldly to and fro, sturdy brown tail demarcated with smart white borders slowly 
opening and closing.  As it traverses the sunlit expanse, I excitedly snap a 
scope into place, my eyes drinking in a flamboyant yellow breast accented by a 
breathtaking black "V."  An ample striped crown and silvery pointed bill tilt 
backwards, flinging another volley of excited chatter into the heavens.  The 
bird sprints forward, snowy outer tail rectrices blazing as its keen dark eyes 
fix upon a distant subject of interest.  It takes to the air, stiff wing beats 
interspersed with short glides allowing it to land effortlessly at the edge of 
an enormous puddle. It plunges into its depths, its silhouette dissolving into 
a blur of intense yellow, brown, and black as it performs its ablutions. 
Thoroughly cleansed, it hops to the dry ground on the puddle's opposite shore 
and begins preening.  Plumage gleaming, it darts to the top of a battered fence 
post, bursting into song once more.  I depart as unobtrusively as my 
surroundings allow, my boots sloshing musically through the glistening muck, 
elated to have discovered such a feisty, debonair Eastern Meadowlark 
aggressively establishing a territory and seeking a mate.

I execute a shallow U-turn back to the top of the hillside and ferret out a 
flimsy collapsible stool from my pack, unfold it, and press it into the corner 
formed by the intersection of two stone walls.  Now situated at the extremity 
of the vast rectangular parcel that has contained my travels of the last two 
hours, I savor eye-level views of the neat grid work of cirrocumulus clouds 
jutting above the tree canopy brushing the northern horizon.  Feathered specks 
whir across one of the slanted vertical blue lines separating the 
rhombus-shaped individual clouds.  Four birds veer upwards and vanish into one 
of the stippled patches of white.  My eyes dance frantically over the neat rows 
of faintly corrugated clouds, aching for any hint of movement. The sleek shapes 
reappear, outlined in stark relief as they streak across one of the wider bands 
of blue, marshmallow bellies acquiring a soft gloss as they approach the 
glowing corona of the sun.  The undersides of the birds' outer wing tips appear 
distinctly dark, and as the birds descend, circling back above the trees, 
brilliant white speculae flail in and out if view.  Svelte, uniformly dark 
heads blush a dazzling emerald.  Mahogany necks mated to white throats press to 
the tip of the flock, the female Common Mergansers dashing ahead of the dapper 
males.  The tiny group tumbles out of sight, ash-gray wingtips engulfed by the 
treetops.

Chik-a-CHEEER Chik-a-CHEEER Chik-a-CHEEER Chik-a-CHEEER!

The distant, doleful notes ricochet once more through the stark brown 
landscape, and I canvas the skies and adjacent fields for a likely source.  I 
pick my way along the dense hedgerow, stopping at a ragged gap in the 
underbrush that allows for easy observation of a distant cultivated field.  I 
poke the objective lens of my scope through the vegetation, orderly rows of 
skeletal, partially flattened corn stubble quickly snapping into focus.  I 
pause at two slender pale stalks with faint bulges at their tips.  They 
disappear in a sudden flurry of motion, an ample white belly pressing down from 
above.  I tilt my scope upwards, taking in a gleaming black eye encircled by a 
thin yet startling crimson eye ring.  A jet-black bill swelling faintly at its 
tip darts to the left, followed by equally dark breast bands.  A disembodied 
pair of pale feet appear, skittering along beneath a dramatically spread tail 
accentuated by black feathers with frosty white tips.

Chik-a-CHEEER!

The most vocal of the two Killdeer has thrown down the gauntlet, charging its 
adversary with such vigor it propels the first bird into the air.  It quickly 
closes in from behind, striking orange rump plainly visible.  The two birds 
climb aloft, carrying their confrontation out into the central portion of the 
mammoth cornfield, pulsating white wing stripes easily viewed against the 
desolate backdrop of the remnants of last year's harvest.  Depositing 
themselves into a shallow depression, their quarrel proves short-lived, 
concluding with an abbreviated interval of head-bobbing and clamorous 
vocalization.  They resume prodding the muddy furrows for a morning meal, and 
quickly disappear into the taller stands of emaciated cornstalks.

My desire to observe more secretive passerine species grows, and I direct my 
attention to the periphery of the field, a leaden sliver of open water 
beckoning from behind thick weeds.  I dodge and twist through an inhospitable 
grove of Multiflora Rose and Barberry, boots crunching through heavily shaded 
patches of granular snow, barbed tentacles of vegetation clutching at my 
clothes.  I arrive at the edge of the narrow inlet and tread warily into the 
shallow water, using a hiking staff to prod carefully for unseen ice.  Once 
situated upon surer footing, I peer into the surrounding shrubbery and begin 
mimicking avian distress calls, delighted to find that my efforts elicit much 
curiosity.  Countless sets of wings flicker, shining eyes blossoming from every 
corner of the nearly impenetrable thicket.  A quick scan of the underbrush 
reveals an inquisitive band of sparrows, a happy tumult of predominantly 
White-throated, Song, and American Tree Sparrows.  Disjointed pewter auriculars 
magically expand into a trio of Swamp Sparrows, while compact twin domes of 
jaunty black-and-white stripes betray the presence of a pair of the 
White-crowned variety.  The eye-catching wedges of yellow bedizening the outer 
branches of a Barberry reveal themselves to be the myriad crowns of a cheerful 
band of Golden-crowned Kinglets.  A narrow, menacing shadow glides over the 
copse, sending its inhabitants fleeing in every direction.  I glance up as 
elegant tapered wings traverse the sky.  The graceful raptor traces the border 
of the marsh and the forest beyond, its tawny wing linings peppered with dark 
brown.  The aristocratic Northern Harrier plots a course over this choice 
feeding area with supreme ease, unfazed by the vagaries of a rising wind, 
nimbly dipping out of the swirling maelstrom of currents present above the tree 
line into the more stable air present above the matted weeds. Its uppertail 
coverts glow with such  intensity I ponder if they may betray the lithe 
hunter's presence to desired prey as it dips and weaves away, dropping behind a 
gaunt collection of snags.

Emotive nasal cries fill the sudden sensory void.

WHHEEEEEE! WHHEEEEEE!WHHEEEEEE!

Two plump white bellies, one decidedly larger than the other, rear above the 
surface of the water, revealing striking marbled underwing patterns, the 
dramatic silvery borders of the birds' underwing coverts tapering into clusters 
of brown dots immediately above the point at which their wings merge with their 
bodies.  Glossy contours impact the water, glistening waves spilling away from 
their flanks.  Spring has arrived with an electrifying flourish, the jaunty 
pair of Wood Ducks busily refamiliarizing themselves with the haphazard 
dimensions of their favored wetland, heads and necks enthusiastically poking 
into the dank recesses of the Tussock Sedge lining the water's edge.  The 
drake's extravagant head coloration is especially magnetic juxtaposed against 
the waterway's restrained sepia tones.  The female's tan facial disk bordered 
with white conveys an opposite effect, temporarily dissolving against the 
backdrop of lifeless beige grass as she
and her mate paddle steadily through the murky water, disappearing at a 
serpentine bend in the stream bed.  I opt to expand my search for captivating 
views of newly arriving waterfowl, and I return to the car, flinging a favorite 
map onto the passenger seat beside me as I travel northwards as rapidly as road 
conditions allow.

I reduce my pace, five squat tan shapes waddling hurriedly away as I advance 
along the edge of an elongated patch of fine gravel.  They gradually come to a 
stop, delicate pink feet peeking out from the edges of portly brown midriffs. 
The Mourning Doves take a brief respite from ingesting minute quantities of 
digestive grit to savor the newfound warmth of the sun, heads compressing 
further into shoulders, eyes narrowing to slits, and breast feathers expanding 
as the birds arrange themselves side by side in endearingly neat fashion. A 
flock of unruly Blue Jays bullies its way through the nearby shrubbery, the 
doves remaining comically imperturbable as the raucous band flaps overhead. 
Two of the birds crane their heads downward to stare quizzically at the 
peculiar elongated forms concentrated at the border of the road.  They collect 
in a pocket of saplings at the edge of the high-tension lines, bickering among 
themselves before dispersing.  As the din
abates, I advance cautiously, but overlook the effect of my body's shadow 
pressing to the edge of the sleeping birds.  Eyes spring open, pert brown heads 
snapping to attention, and they take to the air in quick succession.

As the agile doves streak over the horizon, a bright white triangular dot dips 
out of the heavens.  Prominently streaked with black and white, it appears 
attached to a pale streaked crow-sized belly accentuated by reddish-brown 
stripes.  Contours flatten, the image soon disappearing altogether.  I continue 
to extend my binoculars along its initially established flight path, and I 
reacquire the unusual figure, which promptly executes a flurry of wing beats. 
Its left wing skews upwards, revealing shock-white feathers crisply bordered in 
black at the trailing edge of the wings, contrasting sharply with minute black 
speckles generously sprinkled throughout the carpal area.  The bird drifts 
towards the sun, its pale coloration intensifying still further, soon becoming 
a glowing ember of white.  A volley of assured, staccato wing beats follows. 
The successive blurs of motion briefly eliminate any possibility of gleaning 
further details from the under surface
of the squat raptor's wings, and my eyes are drawn once again to the striking, 
chunky fanned tail highlighted by substantial black and white stripes.  A pert 
head twists down, stunning yellow cere plainly visible directly above the 
bird's nostrils.  Upon sifting through all salient field marks, I am astonished 
to find myself viewing an adult Broad-winged Hawk, now tracing a methodical 
figure eight over a steep hillside dotted with massive electrical towers.

I push slowly uphill over the buckling asphalt, avoiding the compacted ice 
present in a pocket of frost heaves, pausing to wring out a cap at the edge of 
a monstrous pothole.  The roadway levels off, and my legs and knees welcome the 
sensation of more supportive asphalt rising to meet them after having pitched 
and rolled over the irregularities scattered throughout the boundless expanse 
of agricultural land that produced such satisfying views of the feisty plovers. 
I settle happily into a steady rhythm, impatience growing, feet inexorably 
narrowing the divide between the hilltop and the ragged shoreline.  I progress 
into a sunlit expanse of trail, warm air floating up from the road against my 
chin.  The powerful sun penetrates through my thick fleece, and I opt to remove 
it as I reach a patch of coarse gravel studded with a remarkable variety of 
velvet-smooth elliptical stones abutting the water.  I squint overhead, 
scanning the enormous dome of bare sky, eyes hungrily alighting upon a passing 
flock of Rock Pigeons, their vigorous wing beats a riot of metallic blue, soft 
gray, and mottled white.  The birds exit to the southwest, the heavens lifeless 
once more.  The colorful fuselages of small aircraft wink in and out of the 
glare of mid-afternoon, my eyes initially passing over a sliver of black 
melting into view above the rapidly dissolving contrail of a passing jet. 
White dots appear fore and aft, the largest of which appears slightly curved at 
its leading edge.  Fanned individual feathers distinguish themselves as the 
smaller white speck tipped with soft yellow methodically pivots to the right. 
The pristine adult Bald Eagle approaches slowly, carefully adjusting its 
course, and I drink in the mammoth raptor's unblemished dark brown wing 
linings, flanks, chest, and belly as it advances.  I reluctantly pause to 
examine the opposite horizon, adopting the strategy of aligning the bird's 
established trajectory with readily discernable terrain features below to 
facilitate rapid visual reacquisition.  I lower my binoculars briefly, 
rearranging my wide-brimmed hat to better shield my face from the sun.  The 
fleeting moment of unaided viewing allows me to see an oval blob plummet past 
the distant eagle, the relatively stationary bird forced to twist swiftly away. 
I snatch a scope from its temporary resting place atop my pack, jamming it into 
my shoulder as I make a frantic attempt to relocate the mysterious interloper. 
Two huge sets of dark wings simultaneously clash and climb violently upwards, 
each jockeying for supremacy in a desperate bid to gain altitude.  I am 
awestruck by the spectacle of two Bald Eagles locked in remorseless combat, 
utterly enmeshed in a bid for territorial dominance.  In an instant, 
hostilities cease, savagery abating as quickly as a capricious summer 
thundershower.  The two predators level off, gliding wingtip
to wingtip in perfect synchrony.  Viewed through the compressed field of view 
imposed by optics, they temporarily appear motionless, suspended against a 
clear sky that briefly defies depth perception. Banking to the left, the rear 
eagle attempts to overtake the first, the lead bird deftly executing an 
intercepting roll, lethal talons inverting upwards with brutal precision. 
Ear-spitting squeals fill the air.  Two sets of weaponry quickly clash, 
separate, and lock together once more.  Four giant wings windmill violently 
downward, hurtling towards the earth in a savage yet eerily noiseless embrace, 
the landscape below wrapped in reverential silence.  My hands pull my 
binoculars towards my chest as the birds freakishly accelerate further, and I 
edge closer to averting my eyes, disaster appearing imminent.  Miraculously, 
the eagles assertively realign in a near perfect "H" shaped silhouette, leg 
feathers billowing crazily, separating at last.
Mesmerized, I take in the sight of the two birds flapping in opposite 
directions, each alighting within one hundred feet of one another in stout 
White Pines.

The sound of feet scampering through the detritus littering the forest floor 
behind me shatters my enchantment, and I turn to investigate it. I glass the 
shady, ample patches of brown pine needles, finding nothing.  I pan slowly to 
the right of the stone wall abutting the roadway, keenly sensing the burning 
gaze of unseen eyes.  My eyes drink in taut muscular hindquarters covered with 
lustrous black fur almost imperceptibly inching forward. Piercing black orbs 
return my stare, pinkish nostrils flaring, framed by silvery whiskers that 
seesaw cagily.  The magnificent Mink continues to examine me intently, and it 
is only when I shift position to obtain a marginally better view of the 
striking mammal that it disappears, bolting across the remaining width of the 
roadway and into the lush evergreens beyond.

I consolidate personal effects and re-lace my boots, steeling myself for the 
substantial trek to the highway.   I press into the welcome shade along the 
south side of the road, pausing for any sign of avian activity.

SKRIT!

The emphatic alarm note resounds along the irregular length of stone wall 
appearing on my right, rising above the steady cadence of my feet crunching 
into the shallow loam stretching along the road's shoulder. I feverishly study 
the surfaces of the countless lichen-covered rocks, in hopes of detecting any 
hint of movement. Maddening silence ensues, thankfully concluded by a lengthy 
barrage of notes erupting from the base of a fallen log.  I am fixated once 
more, and shuck my pack with abandon, sprinting down the embankment immediately 
beyond the lowest portion of the wall in hopes of flushing the invisible 
songster.  I reach firmer footing as the song concludes, situating myself at 
the base of a huge maple in hopes of being treated to another exhilarating 
serenade.

SKIT-SKIT-SKITTIT!

A barren expanse of rock sprouts a brownish finger of feathers strongly barred 
with black and bordered with white stripes.  A muted chalky eyebrow appears, 
followed by a throat filled with fine red and brown speckling.  Its head and 
throat feathers pulsating excitedly, the diminutive bird rears backwards, and 
my ears are lost once again within the breathtaking peaks and valleys of the 
soundscape carved out by the tireless singer.  The rock appears to quickly 
swallow the head and tail of the Winter Wren at the conclusion of its 
performance, the bird ducking out of sight, continuing to forage in 
characteristically hyperactive fashion in plain view for nearly five minutes 
before retreating within the endless cracks and fissures of the dilapidated 
masonry.  I reluctantly rise to go, the shimmering wavelets lapping the shore 
the only sound.



Pied-billed Grebe   1
Great Blue Heron    1
Turkey Vulture  5
Canada Goose    22
Wood Duck   4
American Black Duck 7
Mallard 9
Hooded Merganser    4
Common Merganser    6
Bald Eagle  2
Northern Harrier    1
Sharp-shinned Hawk  1
Cooper's Hawk   1
Red-shouldered Hawk 1
Broad-winged Hawk   1
Red-tailed Hawk 2
Ruffed Grouse   3
Killdeer    2
Ring-billed Gull    5
Herring Gull    2
Rock Pigeon 13
Mourning Dove   5
Great Horned Owl    1
Barred Owl  1
Red-bellied Woodpecker  1
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker    1
Downy Woodp

Pied-billed Grebe   1
Great Blue Heron    1
Turkey Vulture  5
Canada Goose    22
Wood Duck   4
American Black Duck 7
Mallard 9
Hooded Merganser    4
Common Merganser    6
Bald Eagle  2
Northern Harrier    1
Sharp-shinned Hawk  1
Cooper's Hawk   1
Red-shouldered Hawk 1
Broad-winged Hawk   1
Red-tailed Hawk 2
Ruffed Grouse   3
Killdeer    2
Ring-billed Gull    5
Herring Gull    2
Rock Pigeon 13
Mourning Dove   5
Great Horned Owl    1
Barred Owl  1
Red-bellied Woodpecker  1
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker    1
Downy Woodpecker    2
Hairy Woodpecker    2
Northern Flicker    2
Pileated Woodpecker 3
Blue Jay    14
American Crow   23
Common Raven    3
Black-capped Chickadee  8
Tufted Titmouse 4
Red-breasted Nuthatch   5
White-breasted Nuthatch 2
Brown Creeper   4
Carolina Wren   1
Winter Wren 2
Golden-crowned Kinglet  11
Ruby-crowned Kinglet    1
Eastern Bluebird    5
American Robin  17
Northern Mockingbird    1
European Starling   7
Cedar Waxwing   5
Yellow-rumped Warbler   2
American Tree Sparrow   9
Song Sparrow    4
Swamp Sparrow   3
White-throated Sparrow  7
White-crowned Sparrow   2
Dark-eyed Junco 15
Northern Cardinal   6
Red-winged Blackbird    15
Eastern Meadowlark  1
Rusty Blackbird 1
Common Grackle  9
Brown-headed Cowbird    4
Purple Finch    1
House Finch 3
American Goldfinch  8
House Sparrow   6


MAMMALIA:

Mink 1 (Graves Landing)