Last Friday was a perfect crisp, cool, blue-sky-with-puffy-clouds kind of day for our first trip of the year up the mountain to the hawk migration observation site.
(The hole between these rocks is where the butter knife ended up after it slipped out of the basket of food Mary Rose was carrying. Alas, for we had two fresh loaves of French bread, and said butter knife was never seen again.)
The easiest bird to identify!
The bird counts weren't spectacular, but we did see a nice number of bald eagles and some of the typical broad-winged and sharp-shinned hawks, osprey and American kestrels seen passing through this time of year. It was a lovely day nevertheless, as an afternoon spent up the mountain always is. The beautiful views, curious critters, fresh air and blue skies in the clear September air, with nothing to do but sit and take it all in, is like a tonic for the spirit. (and that's what really counts, even more than the birds) (don't tell Lydia I said so)