June 16: Havahart

Chipmunk in a trap

cursing us on its release

half mile away.

 

Posted with Blogsy

July 11: Morning walk up the mountain

walking side-by-side
scent of pine needles in sun
small blue butterfly

May 1: From the mountaintop

Bay so calm this morning

we could walk on water

from here to Blue Hill.

Posted with Blogsy

April 24: Sunday Morning

On our usual walk

escorted by thrushes

up the mountainside.

Posted with Blogsy

April 21: Seasonal progression

Chasing down a warbler,

distracted by a hawk...

Spring is a motion.

Posted with Blogsy

April 3: Spring snow

Just as we began this morning's hike up Mount Battie, the snow started to fall and the wind started to howl. We three women and the dog accumulated snow as we walked quickly to keep warm against the wind. Fortunately the inclement weather didn't quiet the season's first sapsuckers and Winter Wren.

Snow falling faster.
Long trilled song of the wren
from somewhere in the woods.

December 26: Boxing Day hike

We took advantage of the continued unseasonably warm weather to hike up Mount Battie today, grateful that it's just a short walk from our house to the trails of Camden Hills State Park.

Hiking Mount Battie
under Raven's beady eye--
we can see our house from here.

July 5: Hike

At our feet on the trail:

one butterfly wing,

evidence of past drama.

Posted with Blogsy

May 10: Bird hike

Hiked in Camden Hills State Park this morning, up Cameron Mountain. The woods are finally filling up with bird song. I was serenaded mainly by Black-throated Green Warblers (I counted 20) and Ovenbirds (28) but also heard some other spring favorites: Wood Thrush, Winter Wren, Brown Creeper, and Blue-headed Vireo (36 total species). The leaves are budding and the birds are returning--an invigorating season!

 

Head up, birding by ear

I almost miss seeing

flowering Wild Oats.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

August 25: Summer evening

Mist softens the mountains.
Waiting at home
a perfect avocado.

August 10: Up Mount Battie

We played tourist today. Sailed on the Schooner Surprise this morning out of Camden Harbor with (almost) my whole family, to celebrate my mother's birthday. Then we all enjoyed an al fresco lunch together on the river: lobster rolls and whoopie pies. Later, my husband and I hiked out our front door and up Mount Battie in nearby Camden Hills State Park, making the most of this long, sunny summer Sunday and a rare day off together.

Familiar trails,
same vireo singing--
you still laugh at my stories.

March 3: Sun and snow

The sky brightens at Owls Head Lighthouse, as we look across the water toward the Camden Hills, where snowfall veils the summits of Bald and Ragged Mountains, and clouds hang heavy over Megunticook and Mount Battie. With spotting scopes we find offshore one loon beginning to get its spotted breeding plumage back, some guillemots, and a lone Razorbill.

Lone loon afloat on cold seas,
lowering clouds.
Our light won't last.

July 18: Summer Songs

My husband and I went for a long hike today on Mount Megunticook in Camden Hills State Park. We wanted to get outside together on this beautiful day, get some exercise, and enjoy the views from on high, but we were surprised by how many birds were singing in the shady mixed forest through which winds the Ridge and Jack Williams Trails. We started off at the Maiden's Cliff trailhead, and as we began the climb up to the ridge line, heard what I thought was a scarlet tanager. Because he wasn't singing his full song, it wasn't till we had completed the entire hike and returned miles later to that same place when we confirmed that it was indeed a tanager (he finally gave his characteristic "chick burr" call) and then we were even able to find the vivid red bird gleaning bugs among the oak leaves overhead.

My favorite birdsong in these summer woods is that of the hermit thrush: angelic notes tumbling down from the trees, clear and haunting in the lush forest air. We passed several singing thrushes, to our delight, as well as another Maine forest favorite, a winter wren, whose lovely, complex song goes on and on, seemingly rising out of the trees themselves.

Although we expected to hear black-throated green warblers, which seem to sing all summer, we were surprised to hear several black-throated blue warblers and a Blackburnian warbler. When I commented on how unusual that seemed, my husband suggested that that's what I should write about for today's haiku. Ever the dutiful wife, I did so:

On the mountainside,
height of day, height of summer:
warbler still singing.