Date: 7/29/26 5:20 am From: Ted Levin <tedlevin1966...> Subject: [VTBIRD] 29 July 2026: Hurricane Hill, WRJ
5:03 a.m., thirty-three minutes before sunrise. Fifty-five degrees, wind
from the south-southeast at five miles per hour, gusting to fifteen. Short
odds on rain. Overcast and dripping—an uneasy dawn; the world holding
itself open for another deluge. A solitary cloud hangs above the White
River, teased at the edge, frayed and drifting toward the Connecticut. The
sky looks convulsed, rumpled, and bruised, with a single rose-colored slash
in the northeast above Moose Mountain, where the sun ought to be.
(Tonight's full moon, the Thunder Moon (aptly named), is likely to rise
unnoticed as well.)
*In the Meadow:* goldenrods take center stage. Daisies and fleabane linger,
but fading. Milkweed blooming. Field crickets chorus; the first morning I’ve
noticed them, more whisper than shout. As warblers and swallows leave the
Hill for the river valley, goldfinches divide the meadow and prepare to
nest.
In the hanging begonia, juncos are nesting again. Four or five off-white,
speckled eggs. Using the same nest from earlier in the summer—a tight bed
of grasses, fluff, and strips of bark. Third clutch? I return to watering
on the far side of the plant.
At 4:56 a.m., the red-eyed vireos begin the day, singing with gusto. I
passed through a dark tunnel of song on both sides of the road, from the
driveway to the summit and back. While they seem unaware that August is
near, the swallows know; they are at the base of the Hill rather than the
summit, seining insects above the river.
*Twenty-one species of birds: *common loon (yodeling far off); broad-winged
hawk (above the raspberries and strawberries, scouting for chipmunks and
occasionally crying); American crow, a family of four conversing in a
roadside maple (I caw back, everyone rushes off ... ghosted); common raven
(in the air and disgruntled); blue jay; American robin (vocally taking a
backseat to the vireos); wood thrush; gray catbird; northern house wren;
black-capped chickadee; red-breasted nuthatch; northern cardinal; Baltimore
oriole, in a maple, brighter than sunrise (is there a more limpid
whistle?); common yellowthroat; myrtle warbler; song sparrow; chipping
sparrow.
*At the feeders, beyond the usual suspects*: An entire family of
rose-breasted grosbeaks—parents and three juveniles—and a second male, a
white-breasted nuthatch, a house finch, and unrestrained hummingbird
activity—mostly feeding and chasing, especially under the sympathetic edges
of the pergola, where the begonias and climbing honeysuckle offer
alternatives to the nearby sugar water.
Juvenile winter wren (so small) below the deck, wandering the outer
branches of the weeping crab apple. Tail erect. On the prowl.
