Bicknell's Thrush!

After heading home to tend some obligatory homeowner tasks and cuddle with my dog, Puppet (who turned nine on June 1st), I  finally was able to get my covid shot - J&J being put back on list of options made it easier for me to get vaccinated, rather than having to make sure my schedule worked to put me in the same place two separate times for a follow-up shot. 

Sitting at home feeling unwell with side effects (one day of mild hot and cold flashes and about two and a half days of rather significant lethargy), I watched sadly as my Yellow Grosbeak window of time collapsed - one had been seen at a feeder regularly, at a very inconvenient time which left with me deciding between getting vaccinated or chasing - and I chose vaccination. There wouldn't be time to go after getting vaccinated, because I was heading directly to the Acadia Birding Festival to lead field trips there. 

June 1

After some weather in Dallas cancelled the first of my three leg journey to Bangor, Maine, I rescheduled and planned to fly to Boston, picking up a rental car there. I  was originally scheduled to leave McAllen at 6 am; my new flight was at noon, and I wouldn't get to Boston until 10 pm. It was a four hour drive in the dark, in the middle of the night, up into the mountains in the middle-of-nowhere Maine, to my hotel in preparation for leading the Bicknell's Thrush pre-festival trip. At 2:03 am, I made it to the hotel (where a call-ahead resulted in them giving me the room number and leaving the door unlocked for me) and was in bed by 2:15 with a 5:45 alarm. Not, however, without first waking up in a panic shortly before 5:00 am, thinking I'd overslept, with the realization it was light out. I'd forgotten how early sunrise is in New England in the summertime and had been anticipating being woken by an alarm when it was still dark.

We had an intrepid group of nine participants meeting at the ski lodge at Saddleback Mountain, and as co-guide Michael and I were waiting for the full group to assemble, a Black-throated Blue Warbler was singing in trees adjacent to the parking area. 

Our group fully arrived, and we were welcomed by the lodge staff - and promptly loaded into three ATVs to be driven to near the top of the mountain. 

This was a first for this opportunity, as every other year of the Acadia Birding Festival, participants had to hike all the way up, and all the way back down. (By the time we made it back down at the end of the day, I was very thankful we'd gotten the ride up, and I can only imagine those on the trip who were twice my age were twice as thankful!) 

As we ascended up to the very tops of the mountain (and walked the 'saddleback' ridge that gives Saddleback Mountain its name), several Bicknell's Thrushes were calling. At one point, we could hear three individuals calling from the same location! We were definitely at the intersection of some territory lines. Somewhat frustratingly, none of the Bicknell's were very obliging, and our group had gotten fleeting looks at a few of the individuals. In total, we tallied eight individuals. 

Atop the mountain and above the treeline, we rested about half an hour, listened to some more Bicknell's calling, snacked and hydrated, watched a Northern Goshawk careen through the sky over the treetops below us with a Sharp-shinned Hawk harassing it, and chatted and connected with one another. 

One by one, I made my rounds and chatted with each of the women, explaining my project and gifting each an alarm. 

We carefully made our way down the mountain (steep in some parts with slippery gravel!), enjoying great looks at Boreal Chickadee and Yellow-bellied Flycatcher, Magnolia Warbler, and American Redstarts on the way down. 

It was a 3.5 hour drive into the Acadia area for the leader's dinner - I  headed straight there after getting off the mountain. From there, ten minutes to the Seawall Motel. I threw my belongings in my room, and headed to the ocean 1/8 mile away, anticipating a year bird to be sitting on the water, waiting for me. I  was right. Black Guillemots there were. 

The number of times this year that I've been moved to tears over how pretty something looks or how beautiful it sounds has gotten to be a little absurd.

After more than a week with no new year birds, it sure feels great to get back at it! I'm looking forward to four more full days of guiding and more year birds on short order! Off to bed with an incredibly full and thankful heart. 

Every trip I've taken this year has changed who I am as a person, in the very best of ways. More on that soon. but for now, bedtime. 4:30 alarm set. 

Year List: 617