Sometimes, after many hours of yardwork, I like to kick back with a cold drink and relax on the deck. With legs extended, head back, and eyes on the sky, I can’t help but notice the wide variety of birds flying high overhead. I wonder where they are going and where they may have traveled from.

It is interesting, too. The species that you see are surprising. Although I live a considerable distance from a large body of water, I frequently catch sight of waterfowl. Once, I spied the distinct form of a common loon heading south at a high rate of speed. Another time, what looked like a small flock of grebes sped past, and there have been occasions when wayward seabirds sailed over.

Mostly, it's more familiar birds, though some can be considered rare. For example, just two days ago, I watched a raven soaring effortlessly, far, far away, and hundreds of feet high. Ravens are becoming more numerous here, but still considered rare in our region. Recently, there are many purple martins, tree swallows, and even northern rough-legged swallows circling high over town.

In similar form, but much larger, are the common night hawks. They appear in mid-August and by the end of the month are more frequent. Once more numerous, the common nighthawk is now a rare sight in my neck of the woods: but other more ideal locations may still experience the huge flocks working their way south in late evening.

Night hawks have declined by 60% since the '70s. Where I grew up, along the Connecticut River, they were especially abundant during migration. I would gather with other kids in my neighborhood on north facing hillsides just before the onset of dusk and wait for the nighthawk’s great performance. It started off slow, a single bird appearing at the horizon, but then there would be others. In a short while, dozens more, their distinct flight easily recognized even at a great distance: they fly in wide arching circles, fluttering like bats, then glide, and swoop. Before dark, the sky filled with hundreds of these large falcon-like birds, and we watched in wonder as they moved from the distant horizon and up and over us on those long hot summer days beneath the mackerel clouds of dusk.

The name, nighthawk is a bit of misnomer, though, for these peculiar long-winged birds with the white wing patch are neither nocturnal nor are they hawks. They are what ornithologists call nightjars and are related to whippoorwills.

True hawks are not nocturnal and migrate during the day; however, both species begin moving south in late summer. Typically, the nighthawk migration is winding down before the hawks take to the skies in mid-September. Hawks migrate during the day because that is when the sun heats the land surfaces, which give rise to the uplifting thermals upon which they ride.

These thermals often form beside escarpments or along coastlines; since there are a few hilly ridges near me and because we are not too far from the coast, I often see migrating hawks from my deck.

Yet, migration or not, hawks always show up when my eyes are on the skies. Hawks, wheeling above in great circles, are constantly watching the landscape. Hawks, waterfowl, herons, rare and common song birds, all use the air above, that when observed seems more like an avian highway. Keep your eyes on the sky.

Robert Tougias is a Colchester author. His new book, "Birder on Berry Lane," is available in booksellers and online. You can ask him questions at roberts90gtias@yahoo.com.