Whales and Shorebirds

19 – 27 August 2026

 

    A Least Sandpiper nonbreeding adult forages in the shallows of Provincetown harbor flats

I did my first Provincetown whale watch in September 2016. This August I made my 8^th visit to Provincetown to look at whales and hunt for migrant shorebirds. This trip I combined with a quick visit to Long Island, where I gave a Godwit book talk in Setauket/Stony Brook and also did a shorebird walk on the South Shore.

    A winter-plumage Bonaparte's Gull walks the mud of the flats.

I had a hunch getting to Stony Brook might be a driving challenge. So I decided to drive to Princeton and spend the night with David Wilcove. This was made memorable by dinner at Eno Terra in Kingston and then breakfast at PJ’s on Nassau Street. Princeton is always a worthwhile spot to visit! And being in Princeton considerably shortened my drive to LI.

    Great Black-backed Gull stretching

The drive to Long Island, as expected, was a challenge. My GPS took me across Staten Island, across the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, then through the heart of Brooklyn on Interstate 287 (taking me right under the Brooklyn Bridge!) where highway speeds varied from 5-25 MPH for more than an hour. The hypothetically more pleasant route via the Belt Parkway was nixed by my GPS because of ongoing road construction.

    A nonbreeding dowitcher working the mud

I stayed two nights with Luci and Stephen Nash in Stony Brook. Luci is a gung-ho birder and Stephen is a colleague who I worked with for a decade at Conservation International. Both Luci and Stephen are accomplished scientific illustrators. Luci focused on the osteology of fossil vertebrates. Stephen, an expert on primates, worked with me to illustrate a tree kangaroo poster as well as a small and beautifully-illustrated nature guide to the YUS Conservation Area in Papua New Guinea. It was nice to catch up with Stephen and to get to know Luci. They maintain a lovely home with lots of hummingbirds and native plants. The house is filled with science books.

For my book talk, I was hosted by John Turner and the Four Harbors Audubon Society and Enrico Nardone of the Seatuck Environmental Association. The meeting gave me an opportunity to meet and chat with environmentalist Carl Safina (author of Song for the Blue Ocean and Alfie and Me), as well as Professor Doug Futuyma (author of How Birds Evolve).

Friday morning Luci and I drove south with another birding friend and we met John Turner and Enrico Nardone at the boat ramp on Moriches Bay—a beautiful estuary hemmed in by the long barrier island on the south shore of Long Island that includes Cupsogue Beach County Park (this is east of Fire Island). We boated out to an uninhabited  sand island in the middle of the Bay and walked for two hours among the terns, gulls, and shorebirds. Highlights were Red Knots and Black Terns. Our hunt for godwits and whimbrels fell short, but the group of birders included an assortment of local experts, making the walk a delight. There are some very smart and accomplished birders on Long Island! 

    Semipalmated Sandpiper at work

On Saturday morning I drove eastward to Orient Point to catch the ferry to New London, Connecticut. The 90-minute ferry ride was made enjoyable by a sighting of a Wilson’s Storm-Petrel and a chat with a young fisherman who knew the local commerical and game fishes cold. That very week he had pulled in 200+ pound Bluefin Tuna that went to NYC for the restaurant trade. He was headed north and east like me to do some fishing with aa buddy off Cape Cod.

From New London to Provincetown was a pleasant drive, punctuated by a stop at the Orleans Stop-n-Shop to fill my cooler with food and ice.

I set up camp in the late afternoon at site 9 on the highest hill of Dune’s Edge Campground, a property owned by the Trustees. This is the nicest campground on Cape Cod—wooded with Pitch Pine and Black Oak. I bedded down early and was serenaded by two counter-calling Great Horned Owls.

    Double-crested Cormorants atop the breakwater of Provincetown Harbor

Sunday morning I headed by bicycle to McMillan Wharf to meet Dennis Minsky, who serves as a naturalist on the Dolphin Fleet whalewatch.

The bike ride to the boat from the campground take 5 minutes. I was able to shadow Dennis for two whale-watches on Sunday and another two on Tuesday.

These four whalewatches were, no doubt, the highlight of my visit to the Cape.

Sunday I photographed a basking Ocean Sunfish (Mola mola). Always a treat to see this, the largest of the bony fishes. I think I saw a total of 8 of these big creatures over the two days on the boat.

    Ocean Sunfish on sea surface

We had nine Humpback Whales on Sunday. The captain also glimped a single Minke Whale. Lastly, we encountered a bunch of Gray Seals hauled out on the beach at Long Point.

There were quite a few Wilson’s Storm-Petrels, including a single individual foraging next to our boat that was parked in the inner harbor. Strange! It may have been there because of the thick fog that greeted us this AM.

    Wilson's Storm-Petrel close up

The big surprise was the lack of shearwaters. We normally get to see four species from the boat, but today we saw only 3 Great Shearwaters. Where were all the others? The whale highlight was a close up whale that spy-hopped by the boat (its head coming up so it could peer at us with its big eye).

    Wilson's Storm-Petrel in harbor interior--why?

Other whales spent time raising their long flippers and slapping them against the water. The all-white flippers really stand out against the blue sea.

    This and the next seven images feature Humpback Whales.

Monday’s two boat trips produced more Sunfish and 19 Humpback Whales. The PM boat produced whales that breached many times. That’s special… This was perhaps my best whale watch ever.

    Small fishing boats would shadow us in order to get close to a whale.

It was great to hear the crowd on the boat gasp and cheer when a whale came out of the water.

    Humpback coming out of the water like a rocket! 

We were able to watch one whale work out right next to another whalewatch boat—sending their passengers into paroxysms of joy.

My last two days in P’town included a walk out through Hatch’s Harbor to Race Point, with Dennis. This was beautiful and pleasant but relatively bird-free. Very few shorebirds…

    Clouds over the Provincetown harbor

Two afternoons were devoted to walking the Provincetown harbor flats, west of the rock wall, at low tide. This is the best walk for birders in Provincetown. Scores of Black-bellied and Semipalmated Plovers, lots of yellowlegs, and flocks of roosting Roseate Terns.

    Adult Roseate Tern attended by a yearling wanting some food.

    a yearling Piping Plover

A single juvenile Hudsonian Godwit

    Hudsonian Godwit in flight

Lots of peeps and yellowlegs.

    Greater Yellowlegs

My last two nights at Dune’s Edge was made more interesting by an Eastern Screech-Owl singing (both songs) over my tent, and a pre-dawn visit by a confiding Red Fox that I conversed with as I packed the car to depart for home.

    A juvenile Hudsonian Godwit eyes me suspiciously

I recommend Provincetown in early September (or late August)—after the town Carnival. For those who camp, Dune’s Edge is superlative.

 

    adult Common Loon

The Longest Bird Strip Census—

The Northville-Placid Trail, Adirondack Park, NY

1-22 July 2026

 

                   At the northern termius of te NPT at Averyville trail head, reading the DEC signage (photo: Larry Master)

In July 2026 I walked the length of the Northville-Placid Trail (NPT), which transects the Adirondack Park from south to north, starting in Northville, and ending on the Averyville Road, just south of Lake Placid village. The trail is 138 miles long, and spends most of its distance rambling through forests, passing lakes and streams, and avoiding mountaintops. This makes for great walking and great forest-watching. In addition, it provided an opportunity to carry out a “mega-transect” of birdsong in the woods. I counted all singing birds heard along my 14-day walk. I did this section-by-section.

    on the trail!

When I informed my immediate family of my plan to carry out this solo walk, they were quite concerned about my safety in the woods. So I agreed to do a sample walk of four days in the southernmost section of the NPT, then, after I proved I could do the walk with minimal risk, I re-provisioned and returned to the trail a week later. This was a useful process, and in doing so I had a better sense of my equipment and food needs. In particular, I purchased a fabulous new backpack (An Osprey Aether Plus 85) that made the trip much less onerous.

    Fireweed

I am 74. I had not carried a backpack in the Adirondacks since 1974—fifty-two years ago. Back then, I hated carrying a backpack. Now, I wondered whether I could adjust to having this burden back on my shoulders. By having a nicely-crafted pack and by keeping the weight to a mininum (around 28 pounds) I was able to manage the pack with minimal suffering. I am thinking that in my teens I was much less adapted to pain than I am now, after decades of adult life. That was an interesting discovery about my adaptability.

    Ruffed Grouse

The NPT is entirely unlike the better-known Appalachian Trail. The latter follows the height of land for 2,000 miles—that means the hiker is continually ascending or descending on a rocky and difficult trail. By contrast, the NPT sticks to the valleys—visiting lakes, streams, rivers, and beaver swamps, and viewing the summits from a distance. The walker can enjoy traveling at pace through the forest and on a trail that is broad, soft and duff-laden, and easy to track. This is a plain pleasure to engage. Because most Adirondack hikers want to climb “peaks,” the NPT is little walked, and as a result the trail is not butchered by an excess of pounding Vibram soles. Some of the NPT trail is overgrown, but that just means the walker needs to push his way through light thickets of Balsam Fir, Hobblebush, and American Beech saplings.  Many of the NPT’s current trail sectors were once logging roads or fire roads, meaning ease of walking. For this 74-year-old, a day’s walk on the NPT was pure pleasure.

    Billy on the campfire and tarp in the woods...

 My focus was on birdsong and old growth forest. Because of the dates of my walk, I experienced gradual decline of birdsong as July trended toward August. The old growth forest was surprisigly abundant and on most days I saw big trees—trees that were well over 200 years old, some perhaps 400 years old. The featured species are Yellow Birch, Eastern Hemlock, Eastern White Pine, White Ash, and Red Spruce. I regularly encountered trailside Yellow Birch with a DBH in excess of a meter. Some of the Eastern White Pine were toweringly tall. And the abundance of stands of ancient Eastern Hemlock made for gloriously shady deep forest.

            Cold River

Strangely, in some areas (e.g., the upper Cold River) there was no old forest and there was much planted monoculture of conifers, some nonnative. Apparently these poorly-growing stands were planted in the 1930s. Of course, disturbance is much a part of the Adirondack forests. Logging led to vast forest fires (1903, 1908) and in 1950 a hurricane passed through and produced a great blow-down of trees up north in the Park.

                        note the huge Yellow Birch on the right side of the trail margin

Over the deacde, timber extraction worked its way down the value chain, starting with the best giant Eastern White Pines and ending with smaller growth taken for wood pulp and paper. Even this is now declining and Finch Paper (formerly Finch Pruyn) is now closing its mill in Glen Falls and now halting the taking of pulpwood from the Adirondacks.

    lots of bridges on the trail, crossing the abundant waters

So, what is it like walking 8 hours a day for a fortnight? It is remarkably enjoyable, especially when the birdsong survey and big tree encounters are thrown in. The day goes by very quickly, and one is in the sleeping bag before sundown (it is quite dark in the woods at that time). I had a dogeared paperback copy of Moby Dick with me, and I read this at meals and while inside my mosquito net under my tarp. I burned the read pages to start my fires.

    lakes galore

Here was my day: rise at 5:30am. Heat water for cocoa and instant oatmeal. Wash up and pack and get on the trail by 7:30am. Stop when a rest or snack is needed and just keep moving. Halt walking by 4pm. Set up camp. Heat water for dinner (a packet of spicey noodles or a Mountain House freeze dried dinner). Read a few pages of Moby Dick. Hit the hay.

    plenty of lean-to's to go around

My main comfort issue of the trip was the pre-dawn cold. On most nights the air temperature dropped into the 40s. I was unprepared for this and lacked proper clothing and suffered from an inadequate sleeping bag. I was forced to wear wool sox on my feet, cotton sox on my hands, a towel over my head, and two extra layers—a poncho and a ground sheet over the sleeping bag to maintain my body temperature. I purchased extra sleeping clothes in Blue Mountain Lake and Long Lake to contend with this issue (but it was never enough).

     log bridge

Solitude! I was on my own with my own thoughts 98% of my walk. During my two weeks on the trail I encountered 5 other through-walkers and a handful of day-hikers. I never slept in the company of any others. I was on my own. This solitude was splendid. I was able to daydream and think thoughts all day long. No iPhone newsfeed, no telephone calls, no emails, no MS Now, no Washington Post. The glory of no Trump! 

     a massive Eastern White Pine lords it over this lean-to 

Much of my wandering mind trailed back to the times in the 1960s and 1970s when I spent summers in the Adirondacks. Thoughts of my first encounter with a Black Bear, my first caught Small-mouthed Bass, my first canoe trip down the Raquette River, my first climbs of Mt Kempshall and Buck Mountain, digging for ancient Indian pottery in the bluff at the Verner’s Little Camp on Long Lake with Joan Verner. Lots of memories. It was nice to excavate these from the back of my brain.

    Moose Pond

I walked with a walking stick that I had crafted from a lacrosse defenseman’s long pole. This was invaluable. I much prefer the single “stave” to the standard pair of modified ski poles. I think it is much more stable and allows the walker to have a free hand to grasp at grips when losing balance.

               walkin'

I mainly drank from tiny streams that drained uninhabited forest hillsides. On occasions when I needed to take lake water I used Aquatabs to purify the water. I suffered no stomach complaints. I never saw a Deer Tick and never saw a White-tailed Deer on my walk.

    lots of beaver activity

Wild quadrupeds were remarkably few on my hike. Here is what I encountered along the trail in order of abundance: American Toad, Red Squirrel, Eastern Chipmunk, Red Eft, Garter Snake. I heard keening Coyote packs on two nights, Common Loons on most nights, and Barred Owls on three nights. I saw bear poop on the trail on three occasions and I noted a Moose track once. The Adirondacks are famous for being impoverished of quadruped wildlife. On the other hand, singing birds were abundant, even as I passed through the second half of July.

Here are the results of my bird surveys: I encountered 56 bird species of 1,221 individuals. Based on total counts, the most abundant species were Red-eyed Vireo (387), Ovenbird (121), Black-throated Blue Warbler (87), Black-throated Green Warbler (65), Blue-headed Vireo (49), Hermit Thrush (44), Winter Wren (38), and Black-capped Chickadee (37).

    Ovenbird

I made 45 individual strip surveys while walking. Prevalence on these surveys was dominated by the following species: Red-eyed Vireo (in 42 of 45 surveys), Black-throated Blue Warbler (34), Black-throated Green Warbler (28), Ovenbird (26), Black-capped Chickadee (24), Winter Wren (20), Blue-headed Vireo (19), and Blue Jay (19). It turns out the most abundant 4 species were also the most prevalent…

    this is the trail!

Seasonality undoubtedly impacted these results. Many migrant songbirds I never encountered, probably because they cease singing shortly after their first nesting. No Rose-breasted Grosbeak. No Canada Warbler, etc etc. Also as July progressed, birdsong declined. I recorded songs of 55 Ovenbirds in the first eight sectors (1-3 July), but only 1  Ovenbird in the last eight sectors (20-22 July). Clearly, the Ovenbird was running out of steam as July headed towards August.

  

    vista from Tirrell Pond in the evening after rain--looking towards Dun Brook Mountain

For those early and late surveys, Red-eyed Vireo also showed a decline: 96 individuals in the first 8 sectors, and 18 individuals in the last 8 sectors.

    Red-eyed Vireo

I hope to re-do the walking survey of singing birds along the trail in 2027 at the peak of migrant song (late May/early June). I suspect that will provide a strikingly different result, with more species and more numbers.

    Tarbell Road trailhead in Long Lake--the afternoon rain just beginning

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart Lake, Adirondack Park, 25 May – 1 June 2026

Each year I try to get back up to the Adirondack Mountains, a place where I spent summers as a youngster at Adirondack Wilderness Camp at the north end of Long Lake (sadly no longer extant). The good news, however, is that what was once a boy’s camp is now state-owned wilderness land and much of the AWC campus is now back in forest—adding more acres to the public’s wild playground in this, the  largest park in the Lower Forty-eight. As a kid, I backpacked, mountain-climbed, and canoed across the Adirondack landscape. It was challenging, often grueling, and strangely satisfying.

    Bright morph White-throated Sparrow in Marcy Creek thicket.

Anyway, these days, at my age, I like to settle down into a nice camping spot and do day walks out from that base. Of late, I have camped at Heart Lake, at the Adirondack Mountain Club’s “wilderness campground” adjacent to the Adirondak Loj, where, yes, I am in the woods, but where I can drive right up to my campsite (with picnic table!)  and I am only a short walk from a bathroom that offers a hot shower. This is “lux” for wilderness camping, I must say. I love the convenience. If I so desire, I can also book a hot breakfast at the nearby Loj, which also has rooms (that quickly book up seasonally) for those who want to be in the forest but do not want to sleep on the ground. Heart Lake and the Adirondak Loj (with its Roosevelt/Dewey simplified spelling reflecting its Gilded Age origins) is the best location from which to venture out to climb in the Adirondack’s “High Peaks” region—Mount Marcy and Mount Algonquin are nearby, as are dozens of other rocky and challenging climbs. This is what I like to do, get out on the trail, but return to the comfort of my base camp and carry no heavy backpack (torture for somebody my age—actually torture for somebody of any age). Even in the 1970s I hated carrying a heavy backpack while trying to negotiate a rocky and muddy trail.

    Adult male American Robin on mowed lawn of Adirondak Loj. 

This year I did my standard set of hikes, some short climbs, and even led a bird-walk and gave an evening bird talk to the local crew at the Loj. It was great fun. I spent a week based at Heart Lake and never once ventured into nearby Lake Placid.

    Blue-headed Vireo

On my drive up I took the “back way” through Harrisburg and Scranton, then taking 84 east to 87 in NY, then up the Northway to the exit to Keene Valley. With two meal stops this was  an 11-hour trip. I set up camp at 5:30PM and listened to the songbirds that welcomed me to my campsite:  Black-throated Green, Blackburnian, and Myrtle Warblers; and Blue-headed and Red-eyed Vireos. Such a nice welcome!

    Male Blackburnian Warbler

26 May. Cold! Clear sky! I lead a bird walk around the campus and we get “oohs” and “ahs” when we lure in a male Blackburnian Warbler for all to see. That firey throat is a show-stopper! We also encounter a noisy male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, doing its oddly erratic drumming.

    Male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker

Always, my first climb is up Mount Jo, just behind the Loj. This provides a steep ascent and a lovely vista south into the High Peaks—one of my favorite vistas on Earth!

    vista from summit of Mount Jo, just next to Heart Lake (below). Mt Colden to back left and Algonquin summit to right.

In the PM I bicycle back north up to the North Elba pastures, about 5 miles distant. Biking this familiar road reminds me how hilly things are in the Adirondacks (one easily ignores that in a car). I had hopes of hearing or seeing Bobolinks, but no luck (I have read this grassland-loving species is in steep decline).

    Similar vista, but from the fields of North Elba, north of Heart Lake. Mt Colden in far left and Algonquin in middle right. 

That night, comfy in my tent with the nice thick sleeping pad, I suffer a burst of day-one leg cramps that waken me not long after falling to sleep. This is one way I am reminded of my age...

                        Major workings of a Pileated Woodpecker, excavating for ants or burrowing beetle larvae.

27 May. This morning I bicycle to South Meadows Road and drop my bike in the woods and hike up Mount Van Hoevenberg. This is a nice long woods walk that also produces stupendous views of the High Peaks.

    Visa from summit of Mt Van Hoevenberg. Algonguin dominates the mountain-scape. Indian pass and Wallface to the right. 

From the summit I get good cell phone coverage and call home (something I cannot do from the campsite in the woods). I photograph Magnolia Warbler, Myrtle Warbler, and Ovenbird this morning.

    Male Magnolia Warbler

My campsite (#23) hosts my tent, a picnic table, and of course my car. I am wakened from my PM nap today by the sound of gnawing, which sounds as if it is coming from the underside of my car (parked next to the tent). There is an overly friendly Eastern Chipmunk who “owns” my campsite, and I believe this stubby-tailed scamp may be consuming some tasty rubber hose or wiring accessible from the underside of my Nissan. That worries me! To prevent the chipmunk from eating my car I start providing a cache of luscious nuts at the edge of my campsite. This seems to do the trick (even though feeding wild animals is a contravention of local rules). Not sure what else I could do…

    Singing adult Ovenbird in deciduous forest interior. 

28 May. Today I head up Nye Mountain, the nearest of the “46”—those Adirondack peaks that top 4,000 feet elevation. Climbing the “46” is a fixation for many Adirondack hikers. I completed the 46 in 1975. These days, the climbs are longer and more difficult than they were for me in that preceding century. I travel light and I move slowly. Still, each year the trails seem to be ever-more challenging. And these days, I do not hike to the summit, I just make my way up into the spruce-fir zone where I can hunt for the Adirondack specialities: Bicknell’s Thrush, Blackpoll Warbler, Boreal Chickadee, and Black-backed Woodpecker.

    Adult female Black-backed Woodpecker peering from fresh nest hole. 

This day’s pay-off is a nesting Black-backed Woodpecker. The bird has chiseled a fresh nest hole about 15 feet up in a mature White Birch at about 3,800 feet elevation in a zone dominated by Balsam Fir. This is an area that got hit in 1950 by a big windstorm that knocked down most of the high elevation conifers in large swathes of those north-facing  ridges of the High Peaks that received the brunt of the storm’s winds. In the early 1970s, hiking thru that “blowdown” on trailless peaks (like Nye or Street) was nightmarish.  Today, the “herd path” up the mountain makes the hiking easier, but these high elevation areas are still recovering (hence the presence of White Birch and lots of ancient downed spruce and fir deadwood).

    Male Blackpoll Warbler in Balsam Fir.

I find the woodpecker nest because the birch is right next to the trail and the bright white wood chips from the nest construction are littering the ground and the trail. I look down and see the fresh workings and immediately knew I have something good. A female Black-backed makes whinnying notes and flies right up to the nest hole, just a few feet from where I am standing.

                  Female Black-backed Woodpecker on dead stub.

I spend the next two hours at this spot, watching the woodpecker (and hoping to see and photograph the yellow-capped male—no luck!). I also attempt to lure in Boreal Chickadee, Bicknell’s Thrush, and Blackpoll Warbler. These three all complied, in their own way. The chickadee comes in for a quick look but never really shows itself before retreating. The Blackpoll Warbler comes right in. It calls for me, but these days I can barely hear the bird even with my hearing aids set on high. Several Bicknell’s Thrushes move all around me but remain super-shy—all I ever see is a dark blur of the passing birds. They do give alarm notes, however (though they do not sing). The woodpecker at its fresh nest hole is the prize of the day. I am able to photograph the bird at its nest hole with my iPhone—that’s how tame the bird is.

    Male Magnolia warbler in song in a Red Spruce atop Mt Van Hoevenberg.

The hike down is slow and hindered by degrading weather. There are lots of baby American Toads in the trail as well as a few Red Efts and a Garter Snake. Also two species of Trillium.

    Painted Trillium

29 May. This AM I hike the Mr Van Trail to Marcy Creek Bog, where I photograph Mourning Warbler, Nashville Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler, and White-throated Sparrow.

    Singing male Nashville Warbler in Marcy Creek swamp.

In the PM I do a local walk around the Loj grounds in search of obliging breeders. Blackburnian Warbler and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker are the two cooperating species.

    Male Chestnut-sided Warbler in Marcy Creek swamp. 

The Loj environs was burned by a giant forest fire in June 1903. Foresters have since replanted much of the accessible burned land with stands of Norway Spruce and Austrian or Black Pine (nonnative species favored in the 1960s by “scientific” foresters). These large stands of now-mature conifers do lend a quite “boreal” feel to the area, and do provide breeding habitat for conifer-loving warblers such as Black-throated Green and Blackurnian. Still, it would have been better to plant with native species…

    Male Mourning Warbler in Marcy Creek swamp.

30 May. Awaken to cold and cloud and rain. I get a late start as a result. I do a big trail circuit: Heart Lake to South Meadows Road to the Truck Road to Marcy Dam  and then the Van Hoevenberg Trail back to Heart Lake. Highlight of the walk is an encounter with what I think is a Least Weasel running across the trail, carrying either a small rodent prey item or one of its own weasel young. The sighting is brief but iconic. The weasel is small and short-tailed. Problem is, the guidebooks report that this small predator does not inhabit the Adirondacks. Might this be a novel range extension? No, probably not. It was most likely an Ermine, another of the short-tailed weasels—and a lifer for me.  

    Myrtle (Yellow-rumped) Warbler female

The preceding night’s cold and rain produced snow-caps on the highest summits this morning—fun to see snow atop Marcy and Algonquin! The snow has melted by mid-PM…

    Fresh snow atop Wright Peak

I am always struck by the low density of breeding/singing songbirds in this forest. Lots of empty forest with nobody singing at all… The Ovenbirds, Black-throated-Blues, Black-throated Greens, and Myrtles are widely scattered. Is the forest habitat “filled” with breeding birds or is much of it empty? (Seems the latter). Wonder why? The habitat looks great!

    Red-eyed Vireo in Loj parking lot.

31 May. I walk up the Indian Pass Trail (4 miles up, 4 miles back). This 4-mile-long stretch of forest produces only 3 Ovenbirds, 3 BTBs, 4 BTGs, 1 Am Redstart, and 3 Magnolia Warblers. Very thin coverage! Yellow-bellied Flycatcher at the top of my hike is the only novelty for my trip list. No other boreal species.

                       flowering Hobblebush

This evening we get 50F temps and a heavy storm that produces a big dose of sleet/hail (white balls of ice). This fills the tarp that is strung over the picnic table and weighs it down. The temp at 6:45PM is 48F. Cold and damp! A reminder I am in the North Woods!

    Sleet/hail storm one afternoon produced this accumulation! 

1 June. I am up early, break camp, and take the Crown Point Bridge across Lake Champlain and cross Vermont and New Hampshire on my way to give a talk in Cambridge, Mass. The drive is rural and verdant and the highlight is a spectacular breakfast at the Rochester Café in Rochester, Vermont. It’s fun crossing the Green Mountains and hilly central New Hampshire at this time of year. I am already thinking about a return trip!