One of the surprising stops on my Lost Marathon Weekend was my trek up Corn Hill Road, out of the village of Windham. I was hoping to get high up onto Glebe Mountain from this road out of the village, but to my dismay, the road only went for one block before being blocked by a tree trunk across the road... Corn Hill Road becomes a logging trail at that point. After making notes for updates to our TomTom data, I grabbed my water bottle and gear, and started up the logging road. It was a humid, buggy trek, but there was a pleasing variety of butterflies along the scar thru the woods. Skippers, a pair of fritillaries, and then a flock of over 20 Wood Nymphs who were feeding at the shallow remnant of a storm puddle.
Just 7/10ths of a mile up the trail, the land was gated. "Private Land / No Trespassing". There would be no trek up onto the ridge of Glebe Mountain from Windham.
As I neared my car, I passed thru a logged lot, which still had several brush piles but also had a heavy growth of understory plants, shrubs and the next generation of trees. From one nearby brush pile, just off to my left, I heard a harsh, repeated, and plaintive call. Soon that call was answered by a long warbling song, rising and falling, with fluted trills as well as warbles... A Winter Wren had arrived to feed its hungry fledgeling chick. I was able to get nice photos of both of these wrens, before I was distracted by another unusual song from over my left shoulder. It took quite a while of watching before the singer became visible in the undergrowth. The yellow breast and gray head were evident, then as the bird jumped to another branch to get a better view of me and my intentions, I could see a black neck, black eyes, and an olive back. A Mourning Warbler! My first ever seen. After the emotional rise of seeing a new species -- and a distinctly colorful one at that - I kept my binocs on the moving song as it moved closer. Eventually the warbler took up its perch atop the same brush pile where the winter wrens had been.
I wonder if the draw to that brush pile was the tree with a low branch immediately adjacent to the pile. A safe escape readily at hand
Recalled checklist for Windham:
American Robin
Winter Wren
Mourning Warbler
Blue Jay
Common Yellowthroat
Pileated Woodpecker
and butterflies:
Common Wood Nymph
Aphrodite Fritillary
Skipper (unkn species)
Just 7/10ths of a mile up the trail, the land was gated. "Private Land / No Trespassing". There would be no trek up onto the ridge of Glebe Mountain from Windham.
As I neared my car, I passed thru a logged lot, which still had several brush piles but also had a heavy growth of understory plants, shrubs and the next generation of trees. From one nearby brush pile, just off to my left, I heard a harsh, repeated, and plaintive call. Soon that call was answered by a long warbling song, rising and falling, with fluted trills as well as warbles... A Winter Wren had arrived to feed its hungry fledgeling chick. I was able to get nice photos of both of these wrens, before I was distracted by another unusual song from over my left shoulder. It took quite a while of watching before the singer became visible in the undergrowth. The yellow breast and gray head were evident, then as the bird jumped to another branch to get a better view of me and my intentions, I could see a black neck, black eyes, and an olive back. A Mourning Warbler! My first ever seen. After the emotional rise of seeing a new species -- and a distinctly colorful one at that - I kept my binocs on the moving song as it moved closer. Eventually the warbler took up its perch atop the same brush pile where the winter wrens had been.
I wonder if the draw to that brush pile was the tree with a low branch immediately adjacent to the pile. A safe escape readily at hand
Recalled checklist for Windham:
American Robin
Winter Wren
Mourning Warbler
Blue Jay
Common Yellowthroat
Pileated Woodpecker
and butterflies:
Common Wood Nymph
Aphrodite Fritillary
Skipper (unkn species)
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