rural life – Roadkill Crossing

What’s It Like to Go Birding?

A Red-headed Woodpecker. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

There’s a certain intangible satisfaction in birdwatching. That’s especially true when I venture out into the hills and valleys of Rockingham County, Virginia, the third-largest county in the Commonwealth.

That contentment only escalates when I have the opportunity to bird with others. My experience with birding in small groups has consistently found a friendly camaraderie.

I recently participated in an outing on a certified wildflower farm in the western part of the county. The ages of the 16 members in the bird walk ranged from teenage to octogenarian. Among them were both novice and expert birders, which always enhances the quality of the field trip.

Most birders are patient and obey the unwritten rules of the sport. Conversations, usually about birds, are hushed so the chatting doesn’t interfere with the overall birding experience.

Birders help others find the bird. That is not always easy, so patience and communication are essential.

The day started in the 30s as we walked down the farmer’s recently graded half-mile lane towards the creek that splits his acreage. With two consecutive dry seasons, the native Indian grass had overtaken the native seeded wildflowers.

The farm entrance
Birding at the creek
Up the drive we go
Beautiful sky
Through the tree line
Looking to the meadow
The creek
North Mountain
Along the property line
Varied habitat
Atop the ridge
Into the woods
The meadow

However, the grass provided excellent cover for the birds who use the dense grassy clumps for habitat. I was the last one to spot a field sparrow perched high on the six-foot-tall perennial. The birds feed on the rich seeds that form at the top of the grass’s yellow blades.

I only saw the bird that blended in with the tall prairie grass with the help of another birder, who was younger and had better eyes than I did. Using a tree in the far background, he lined me up and told me to follow the trunk down to just below the crest of the grass. Bingo. The bird was still there, posing.

We continued down to the creek, where small flocks of Cedar Waxwings, Eastern Bluebirds, and several sparrow species gathered nervously in the large creek-side sycamore trees. Another birder speculated that the waxwings must be thirsty from devouring all of the cedar tree berries.

Nearby, a Red-headed Woodpecker, one of the birds I had hoped to see, flew to an old standing dead snag punctuated with multiple holes. It was clear that the Red-headed Woodpeckers preferred this tree for nesting.

The bird landed in the morning sun on the east side of the snag and quickly disappeared. Good birders are patient. In a matter of seconds, the regal bird appeared at the very top of the dead tree, and just like the Field Sparrow, posed for a photo op. I couldn’t have been happier.

I turned around and a pair of Purple Finches perched on branches of the forested slope west of the Indian grass. They didn’t sit long enough for a photo, however.

Please click on the photographs to view them in full size.

We crossed the footbridge over the creek and trudged up hill and down, along the southern property fenceline. The wind had picked up, and the strong southerly flow kept the birds low and out of sight.

A few vultures, both Black and Turkey, took advantage of the strong winds and sailed overhead. A pair of Red-tailed Hawks joined them in the kettling, the gliding on the thermals around and around like an avian tornado.

At the top of the ridge, some of the birders broke off to return home or head to their workplace. The rest of us walked on, admiring the varying landscape, vegetation, and mix of deciduous and evergreen trees.

In less than a quarter of a mile, we had traversed through prairie grass, a few late-blooming flowers, grassy fields, and then into a second-growth woods. A Pileated Woodpecker’s deep-throated call echoed against the base of North Mountain.

After nearly three hours, we arrived back at the meeting place, tired but thrilled to be in the outdoors with gracious hosts and an excellent guide. In that time, we had seen or heard 33 species.

We were all pleased with that number for a chilly, windy day in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Additionally, it was an excellent way to connect with nature and get some much-needed exercise, especially for those of us who are older.

Our birder group and the landscape we explored. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Birds of Autumn So Far

Brown Thrasher. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I have had only a few opportunities to go birding this autumn. Here are a few of the birds I’ve seen so far as the fall migration nears its end.

Click on the photos to enlarge and ID them.

Down Over the Hill

An old barn stood down over the hill at the end of a recently harvested cornfield. The roof of this old barn peaked out from autumn’s warm palette that surrounded it. The lovely scene was near Friendsville, Maryland.

Fall Colors, Finally

It’s been a dry, dull fall here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. The usual brilliant fall colors of trees and shrubs were only tinged with color, then mostly withered to brown and have fallen to the ground. Only patches of colors have shown brightly instead of entire neighborhoods or mountainsides.

In our recent coming and goings north and back south through the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, much is the same. Dry fields and forest, and mere spots of color could be seen.

This farmstead south of Friendsville, Maryland, was the exception. Autumn’s warm hues of the deciduous tree leaves surrounded all the buildings, with a splash of green thrown in by the evergreen.

I was grateful the morning sunshine highlighted this lovely scene.

Anatomy of a Sunset

I enjoy the progression of a sunset as much as the finale itself. I usually try to arrive well ahead of time, but I occasionally slip up. Like last Saturday, which was a busy one for us, I had settled in to watch a college football game.

I glanced out the front window, which faces north, and noticed a pinkish tinge in the broken clouds to the north. I grabbed my cameras and headed for one of my favorite sunset spots, Silver Lake in the burg of Dayton, Virginia.

A layer of clouds was slowly moving southeast, opening the western sky to the setting sun. The chances for a decent sunset seemed bright. The sun had already dropped below the rippling horizon of the Allegheny Mountains that mark the western boundary of Virginia and West Virginia.

Still, the sky was bright where the sun had disappeared. Areas north and south of that spot showed warmer colors. The shallow lake was its usual calm self, broken only by a few patches of lily pads, seaweed, and miscellaneous debris.

The reflections on the water doubled the beauty. At the south end is the old mill, which now houses a lovely quilt museum. Across the narrow country road stands an old white-washed farmstead, its barn duplicated on the quiet water.

The road turns west around an Old Order Mennonite family’s red brick home, and continues up the hill to another farm, where it bends due north across the ridge. The staggared trees along its edge provide a perspective of depth to each photo.

The road disappears over the hill and behind the old white farmhouse at the lake’s northwest corner. The house and outbuildings, all mirrored on the water, serve as icons in scores of photographs of the landmark lake.

As minutes pass, the tones of the sky grow deeper orange and red as they tint the underbellies of the clouds and brighten the water’s surface. The western sky turns golden with ruby crowns, all reflected on Silver Lake.

Every hilltop object, animate and inanimate, becomes a row of silhouettes against the blazing background. As if brushed by an artist, the clouds display an autumn color palette of browns, grays, and oranges with patches of reds and pinks, their twins staring back at them.

As if on cue, three mallards take flight, their calls seemingly celebrating the day’s glorious ending. Silver Lake never looked prettier.

The Old Oak Tree

Imagine yourself standing on a ridge on a beautiful, temperate fall day. Scattered soft clouds float eastward in a pale blue sky. A gentle east wind mellows the strong afternoon sunshine.

The grass is lush after some long-overdue rain. And a lone, giant red oak, its leaves just now turning to their rusty color, looms over the landscape like it has for a century or more. Battered by winds and lightning strikes, the rugged oak stands as a centennial for all who care to notice.

Miles away, the southern slope of Massanutten Mountain glides to the floor of Virginia’s magnificent Shenandoah Valley. Miles farther southeast, the southern section of Shenandoah National Park marks the horizon.

Fortunately for me, imagination became reality a few days ago. I enhaled the entirety of the precious landscape, not wanting to leave. Of course, I had to. Still, even as I view this photo, nature’s glory fills my soul.

Pumpkins With a View

You must stay alert while driving the winding, undulating secondary roads in Rockingham County, Virginia, situated at the geographic center of the Shenandoah Valley.

You wind around through forests, past agricultural fields, hilltop homes, abandoned buildings, in valleys with steep hillsides, and suddenly find yourself cruising along a straight stretch of roadway along a ridgeline. There’s always something to see.

On a recent outing with a friend, we emerged from a small valley onto a ridge with farm fields on either side that quickly sloped away from the road. I slowed when I spotted the orange of the pumpkins waiting to be harvested. Then I noticed the view.

The southern section of the town of Broadway peeked out above the treeline beyond the farmstead. In the distance, the Massenutten Mountain range stood steadfast against the cloud-studded cerulean sky.

I had to stop and capture that October moment.

Late Summer Colors

Colorful flower garden. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

After a wet spring and an unusually damp June and July, the last half of summer was arid here in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. Still, the final weeks of summer produced vibrant colors in all things nature.

From flowers to butterflies to birds to bugs to early-turning leaves, it was colors galore all around the valley. Farm fields, fall displays, and forests all contributed to the subtle transition from August’s dog days to September’s cooler evening temperatures.

Everywhere one turned, colors caught the eye. Landscapes, mountain views, produce stands, and backyard gardens all had their own versions of summer’s transition to autumn.

All the photos presented were taken between August 15 and September 22, 2025.

Enjoy Nature’s rainbow celebration.

From our backyard.

From around the valley

From Virginia to Ohio

Welcome to Autumn!

Our three-year-old grandson, Teddy, invites you to welcome in the Fall season, or if you live in the Southern Hemisphere, Spring. The Autumnal Equinox occurs at 2:19 p.m. EDT on Monday.

Welcome to Autumn!

Setting of the Full Corn Moon

The Full Corn Moon over the Allegheny Mountains. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I had hoped to capture the Full Corn Moon setting over the Allegheny Mountains on the morning of September 7. However, the early morning’s sunrays blanched out the moon before it reached the western horizon.

Consequently, this is the best I could do. I hope you can find faint moon in the photo’s top center.

Enjoy your day!