Bluebird of Friendliness

the most wonderful time of the year? almost.

2011-09-01T00:01:00.031-04:00

It's that special time of year in a college town like Boston and its environs when everybody is moving into their new dorms and apartments. A lot of stuff gets left behind in these moves as people begin to realize they just can't take it all with them. That's where I shine. I thrill at the combination of free and useful, so I'm keeping my eyes on the Freecycle boards and Craigslist free section for curb alerts in my area. As I mostly get around by bike during the week, I'm limited to what I can fit in a poorly-secured basket on the front of my bike, and it has to be light enough not to upset the delicate balance I have perfected with my toddler in the seat behind me. And of course I don't want to take things just for the thrill, either. I have plenty of stuff sitting around in my home that never gets used; I'm actively trying to Freecycle things away. But there's a certain magic in the air for me right now because not only am I getting something free (ask me about the queen-size bed I cobbled together from three different people totally free when I was pregnant in Brooklyn), but I am doing my part to recycle and reuse perfectly good items that would likely end up in the landfill long before they outlived their usefulness. I'll let you know if I find anything fantastic this time around - happy hunting!

far from the beach

2011-08-30T23:56:00.000-04:00

I was just completely unprepared for beach plums this year. I am usually on top of the ripenings of the plants on my radar, but beach plums are new to me, just as serviceberries were earlier this year. Those sneaky town landscapers hid some beach plum plants along the bike path, and I found some bushes heavy with the dime-sized fruits dotting the parking lot near a supermarket I like. I picked a bunch, but just didn't know what to do with them. I found some recipes but they all called for much more than I had harvested. So I ate some fresh, spitting out the tiny stones.

Beach plums are a tasty sweet snack, but I find the skin to be very bitter. I imagine it's delicious sweetened and in jam form. Now if I can just figure out a simple way to take out the pits and salvage most of the fruit...I will be prepared next year!

berry explosion

2011-06-28T15:34:00.000-04:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year - when free foods hang heavy in the breeze, ripe for the picking. In 2010, I lived in Rhode Island and our mulberries were out about three weeks earlier than they are around here. The branches on the tree I've been stalking and calling 'the motherlode' are weighed down so heavily by mulberries that I could never hope to pick all the ones I can reach. I don't have big mulberry dreams this year; last year I made mulberry muffins, granola, yogurt, ice cream, and fruit sauce. I just want to pick enough to take home and eat later in the day. The motherlode tree produces by far the sweetest-tasting mulberries of any tree I've found in the past three years. Mulberries can sometimes taste tart or even watery-bland, but these have a sweet zing to them, especially when they're still warm from the sunshine.

This year's foraging discovery is the serviceberry. The new Watertown Community Path has several serviceberry trees planted along the edges. I've been watching them for about three months. I wouldn't have looked at them twice except for the fact that whoever planted them left the nursery tags on. When I read "serviceberry - edible fruit," I rushed home to do some research and find out how to tell when the fruit would be ripe. Now that the blueberry-like fruits are darkening from purple to blue, I make sure to take a container with me every day. They are sort of hard to pick, because the stem comes off with the berry a lot of the time, and they don't really grow in clusters but are scattered all over the bush. It takes some nimble twisting to get the berries and not the stems, but it's totally worth it. Serviceberries taste sweet and full, like they might be distant, wilder cousins of the blueberry. Because serviceberries have seeds that seem large proportional to the size of the berries themselves, it makes for a chewier eating experience, and I find myself spitting out seeds that separate easily. I truly enjoyed watching the green bushes ripen this spring, because each one had just a few leaves that burst into oranges and yellows, and because the berries themselves progress through a magnificent spectrum of colors on their way to ripeness. I have never seen a lovelier or more insistent magenta in nature than I have witnessed of late on the serviceberry bushes.

On a biking adventure to Fresh Pond with a friend yesterday, Flash and friend and I found some likely black raspberry plants to which we shall certainly return upon their ripening. We also found a wildflower meadow thrumming with the wingbeats of birds and bugs alike -- I can't wait to return with my binoculars. Well, that's the berry-roundup for June 2011 - thanks for stopping by!

leaf out!

2011-04-21T17:28:00.000-04:00

A few years ago I learned that the term for when the leaves start coming out is the "leaf-out." That simple little name tickles me every spring now. If you want to know more about the leaf-out, check out Signs of the Seasons - they're conducting a leaf-out study and you can participate.

I've been watching this tree outside my bedroom window sprout little green flower-clusters for about four days now. I think it's an oak, but I'm not sure. It was the last tree around our driveway to lose its leaves last year, and now it's the first one to show some spring initiative! A few trees are in flower around here, but most are still ramping up their buds. I saw some honest-to-goodness baby leaves spilling out of their bud-casings today, on a different tree right in my own driveway. Pretty soon we will lose our great view of Boston, but it is totally worth it to see green everywhere for a few months!

Norumbega Park

2011-04-17T10:04:00.005-04:00

We've been eager to check out more parks in the area, and Norumbega Park was high on the list due to Chrissy's finding out about the legend of Norumbega from the book Weird New England. Apparently some crazy amateur archaeologist thought (and thought he could prove) that at one point, Vikings lived in Watertown. We had to see for ourselves.

Not a lot of Viking artifacts left in Norumbega Park these days. In fact, there are more artifacts from the time during which it was a popular amusement park, such as lamps growing out of tree-trunks and the foundations of old rides. It's a lovely place to explore, even on such a cold spring day as Saturday was. I enjoyed the chance to witness nature making its progress toward the verdant time of year. Here are some small things I noticed.

Buds spilling forth into beauty.

Brown giving way to green.

An eager tree in bloom.

An evergreen past its prime.


I mean, look at those folds!

An obese tree.

A flower so blue that it's white.

Norumbega Park is a great place to look at stuff. I brought along my binoculars and saw some pretty great things. Here's the day's list:

European starling
American robin
black-capped chickadee
downy woodpecker
red-winged blackbird
wood duck - male and female for the win!
mallard
Canada goose
tree swallow
white-throated sparrow
great blue heron - I saw this guy swoop in, snatch a snake or an eel out of the river, and bide its time with the creature in its beak until it was still enough to choke down. Very cool.
mute swan
chipmunk
squirrel

I also saw some awesome fungi, one of which I really wanted to share with you, but I couldn't get a good photo. What was neat about it was its position: it hung from a nearly-horizontal birch that stretched out over the Charles River. I never saw a mushroom grow down before.

Can't wait to explore more places in the area - got any suggestions?

winnahs and champeens

2011-04-09T23:55:00.001-04:00

Today was the Second Annual Johnston Town Scavenger Hunt, in Johnston, RI, where we lived before we came to Watertown. As we are explorers at heart, and since we won the first hunt, we had to go back and defend our title this year. The weather was great - 60 degrees, sunny, a slight breeze. This year Team 41 consisted of Chris, his mom Joanne, his cousin Eric, and me. A dream team if ever there was one. Flash stayed with Auntie Julie and had a great time, which is good because a toddler would definitely have slowed us down. The first year we played, I was nine months pregnant with Flash and had my pregnant belly on the front page of the Johnston Sunrise, so I think it will be romantic when he can really participate in the hunt with us. He already enjoys hiking and general outdoorsiness, so I think it will be an easy transition. On to the hunt!

I'm not sure I like the look on that frog's face.


Zeppoles, get yer zeppoles!

It's amazing how differently you look at things when you're looking for things. I have driven by this funky mural a hundred times, and never noticed it.

Of course, Johnston is has a strong Italian-American heritage, and the Italian bakeries to prove it.


An honest-to-goodness outhouse. Historic, of course.

Four hours of driving, searching, running, and taking pictures really doesn't leave time for bathroom breaks. Luckily, this was on the list!


Hint: He's wearing a red tie.

We almost went crazy trying to get this ten-point item - a picture of a team member with Johnston's mayor, Joseph Polisena. After a false start and wasted trip to his house, we tracked him down at the grand opening of the new Mohr Library (which I intend to...check out...in the near future - a little librarian humor for you, there).


My favorite flavor - chocomint! Oh, and my favorite man.

This was the pinnacle of a decision we had to make: would we trust my father-in-law's internet search skills to pursue a ten-point Indian soapstone quarry, or pick up five or six 1-2 pointers in the last twenty minutes of the hunt? We opted for the latter, and it paid off. Eric and I hopped out of the car, ran into the bowling alley for a photo of a duckpin bowling ball, got that mural photo, ran to Stop and Shop for a picture of Kenyon's Corn Meal, and hoofed it over to Newport Creamery where Joanne and Chris awaited us with this refreshing Awful-Awful, one of two delicious list items we consumed today. The other, a hot weiner!


I've always wanted to ride one of these! While playing a theremin!

Last year (and I'm talking scavenger-hunt years, not chronological actual years - it got rained out last actual year), we got tricked pretty badly by some list items that were very close to the starting site, so we got back a few minutes early to check out the area. I found this old-timey bicycle inside the Johnston Historical Society building. Apparently, it's called a penny-farthing bicycle.

Eleven teams competed, but only one could win it all. With a total of 223 points, Team 41 walked away with a basket of Italian foods, some gift cards, and a nice coffee-table book about Boston (which no other team would appreciate the way Chrissy will, I'm sure). We only won by 11 points this year, as opposed to the forty or so we won by previously, so either we are slipping or others are upping their games. If we had taken my father-in-law's erroneous advice, we would have tied for first. This must not happen. We'll be back next year, with a renewed drive to win. I hope they update the list with new items, because some were repeats from last (scavenger-hunt) year and we didn't have as many chances to learn weird or new or cool things about local history. But as they say after every Johnston Town Scavenger Hunt (so far): Team 41! Team 41! Team 41!

signs of spring

2011-04-05T22:52:00.000-04:00

A lot has changed since I was a regular updater of this blog. Here's the skinny: I'm in grad school pursuing master's degrees in library and information science and children's literature. I have a toddler. I don't live in Brooklyn anymore and I really miss Prospect Park. Here in Watertown, MA, I find little natural moments to tide me over while I introduce my son to the great big world.

Here are some ways today proved springy:
1. The air that hit me as I left the house this morning was warm and humid.
2. The air smelled of damp earth.
3. I saw my first earthworm of 2011 at the running track this morning. Actually, it was more like my first 75 worms of the year. They were all over the track - I really had to watch my step. But the air was so delicious and fresh, who could blame them for coming out in droves? Not I.
4. When the temperature hit 60 degrees I opened my office window and played audience to a robin's lovely serenade.
5. When the wind picked up and the temperature dropped 15 degrees in as many minutes, I closed that window right back up!

Spring is my favorite season. I love the transitional times. I saw a honeybee about two months ago on a fluke of a warm February day and I started to get excited for spring. About a month after that I heard the first white-throated sparrow announcing spring's impending arrival. I can't wait to be driving on the highway and notice that the grey hillsides look faintly greenish when the trees begin to bud. And then way later, the leaf-out! Don't get me started! I haven't yet experienced spring as both a Boston-area resident and a nature-observer - my earlier Boston days were pre-birding. This year, instead of Green-Wood, I will walk through Mount Auburn Cemetery. Instead of Prospect Park, I'll travel along the Charles when I'm near home and explore the Fens when I'm near school. I don't carry my binoculars everywhere anymore, now that I'm always laden either with books or a diaper bag. But my eyes and ears are always open.

the next wave

2010-06-23T23:28:00.000-04:00

I went for a quick walk before lunch today, and chose to walk in a direction I usually don't go. Lucky me, I found a berry bush on the corner a few blocks away. And the black raspberries are ripening! I don't think they're as delicious as the mulberries, because sometimes they taste like ham or aren't very sweet. Perhaps out in the countryside and not by a busy road they'd taste better. Someday I will find secret stands of berries in the forest and visit them at the right times each year to reap the harvest. I did a lot with mulberries this year - I may try my hand at jelly next year. The black raspberries aren't plentiful here, so I probably won't cook with them, but they're a great trail snack for my suburban walks. Doesn't hurt that baby Flash loves them too!

here we go a-berrying

2010-06-21T09:49:00.001-04:00

Well, it's that time of year again. The streets are bruised with mulberry juice. I've been visiting one tree in my neighborhood frequently with plastic containers, old sneakers, and rubber gloves. Those berries stain like mad and I learned my lesson after the first day of picking. Out of the last 12 days, I have picked half a gallon or more of mulberries on eight of those days. It's been wonderful eating them right off the tree. I take my nine-month-old son with me and he sits in the stroller watching me pick mulberries, waiting for me to put a big purple berry in his little red mouth. He smushes it with his gums and smiles really wide. I hope he will enjoy the berry hunt as much as I do someday.

With the mulberries I have done quite a bit. The first day I made a dessert sauce for an ice cream topping (we recently started making our own frozen desserts - yum!) Later, I made mulberry muffins, peanut butter and mulberry milkshakes, dehydrated mulberries for snacking, mulberry fruit-on-the-bottom (well, fruit-on-the-top because they float) yogurt, mulberry granola, and mulberry frozen yogurt. We are almost mulberried out. I was able to freeze a whole gallon bag of them for use later in the year as well.

As mulberry season fades, the black raspberries in our neighborhood are beginning to ripen. I learned my lesson last year, when I thought there was a chance they might be red raspberries. Wait til they're black!

I got a book from Amazon called The New England Berry Book. It's a great little book with descriptions, anecdotes, photographs, hunting tips, and recipes for 8-10 kinds of berries in this region. Unlike with field guides on birds, I prefer photos to illustrations for wild edibles. I want to reap nature's bounty but I have to be sure of something before I eat it! I'd like to learn more about the berries I see in my neighborhood and where I can go to find others. If you know a great book or resource, please share it!

Feathering the Nest

2010-02-26T23:02:00.005-05:00

Some friends of my parents, people I’ve never met, spent time designing, building, and painting a good, solid birdhouse as a family project. When they heard about my personal connection to the bird world, they kindly gave it to my parents to pass along to me. When I received this gift, I didn’t have a home of my own or a yard in which to stake a claim for birds. I was touched by the generosity of these strangers, but couldn’t imagine where I’d be able to use the birdhouse. At that time, we lived in a big apartment building in Brooklyn, a block from Prospect Park, the lesser-known but equally magnificent sister of Manhattan’s Central Park. In Prospect’s hidden, leafy walks I stalked birds, hunted berries, and photographed fungi; in its rambling, open meadows I frolicked in sunlight. Our three-year stint in Brooklyn ended last July in a transition that took my husband, me, and our yet unborn baby to live with family in our native Rhode Island. Now hundreds of miles from that fantastic greensward, I find joy in the backyards and hidden greenspaces of suburban Johnston. Our quiet neighborhood is home to a small brook and a few patches of woodland, dwindling rapidly thanks to the human touch. But there is much life in these parts -- many familiar birds and mammals, and some elusive and surprising creatures as well.

Back in the waning of the summer and the waxing of my pregnancy, I felt lonely for birds; heavy with child, I found my stamina for hiking and birding greatly diminished. So I perched the little wooden birdhouse in the front yard in a small tree about eight feet from the front bay window. With a few nails strategically placed by my mother-in-law for stability, the little wooden structure seemed a perfect hideaway. It sat empty for ages, as I knew it would, the year being far past nesting season. Many birds frequented the tree in autumn, however, for its abundance of red berries. In winter, though I was considerably lighter, it was now too cold to take an infant outdoors. In my impatience, I began to wonder if the ledge near the birdhouse's entrance hole was wrong for bird-use, or whether I should change the direction the birdhouse faced. As with all things, only time would tell.

Now it is deep February, with skies like ice, clear and cold. Just a few afternoons ago, I spotted a house sparrow casing the joint, checking for safety from predators, proximity to cover, quality of visibility for mating displays. I peek at the house for a few minutes every day now. He seems to have deemed the little brown and blue house worthy of his nest, for he has begun bringing choice bits of grass in for his building project. It is a sweet process, one to which I can recently relate. I took great joy in seeking out safe, stylish, affordable necessities for my own baby's room; why should a bird do less? But all may not be well on the sparrow's home front. Just yesterday when the sparrow was out, I saw a tufted titmouse announce his presence at the house and barge in. He didn't stay long, but I wonder whether there will be a territory battle. I'd put my money on the sparrow - stocky and already brown, he seems like the sort of fellow who's not afraid to fight dirty. And as much as I'd like to witness the growth of tiny titmice, the sparrow was there first and I'll help him however I can.

We've got a suet feeder in the back, but the sparrows only eat the crumbs dropped from it by the chickadees and woodpeckers. I think I will clean out my hairbrush and the lint trap in the dryer today; I have a mesh bag just waiting to be hung from the clothesline and stuffed with bird-nest potential. And I know I have some fabric ribbon left over from decorating our nursery. It's romantic to think that some of my hair may end up as part of a bird's nest, but somehow I find an even sweeter satisfaction in the thought that shreds of the very same green ribbon that holds back the curtains in our son's room may help form a safe place for another sort of baby altogether.

Spring will arrive with a flutter of wings soon enough. I look forward to teaching my son about birds and trees and rocks and clouds, for these things are as thrilling to me as texture, sound, and color are to him now. He will grow along with sparrow chicks this year, gaining strength and independence in small ways every day. We must cherish the small things, like first steps, first teeth, and rolling over, or like bugs and sticks and feathers; we must actively seek them out, for these are the rudiments of adventure, and what is the world for if not for exploring?

bird bomb

2010-02-01T15:55:00.000-05:00

Our backyard neighbor has cleared most of the wilderness behind our yard, so there's not much shelter left for birds and other creatures. I took my 5-month-old son out back today to check on the suet feeder. As soon as I knelt down to his level for a kiss, I saw a beautiful redtail swirling over our yard. Any birds back there now would be easy targets. Anyway, I narrated to the baby what the bird was doing. "Look, he's flying in circles over the yard to get higher. Oh, his legs are hanging down..." And then the hawk evacuated its bowels 50 feet in the air and I watched it all splatter down onto one of the trees in our yard. I guess that is one way to get a kid interested in nature!

autumn recollections

2009-11-06T19:29:00.003-05:00

While the baby sleeps after his first round of shots and I listen idly to the Jeopardy! Teen Tournament, I figured I'd record some recent thoughts and events.

We had one day of ladybug infestation. Clouds of them buzzing in the sunbeams, hundreds stuck to the side of the house. It wasn't just here, either; friends from all over mentioned the same phenomenon. It was kind of cool! We even had one in the nursery, crawling up the alphabet painting over the changing table. The ladybug paused on its own picture for just a moment. A neat juxtaposition.

About 2 weeks ago I hung a suet feeder from the clothesline in the backyard. I've had a few visitors - mostly house sparrows, but also some downy woodpeckers and a white-breasted nuthatch. The suet cake is gone now, replaced with half a stale PBJ.

While walking our babies, a friend and I saw a family of turkeys a few yards into the woods. Not 14 turkeys like I saw in our yard a few weeks ago, but more like three or four. I worry for the animals in my neighborhood. Some big company bought one of the swathes of woodland and put up a fence and now the deer can't get through. And the stables down the road razed quite a bit of land for horse pastures. The turkeys, deer, coyotes, raccoons and foxes are running out of room to live in peace around here.

My mother-in-law said she saw a fisher cat early one morning last week. I hope I see one someday, and yet I am terrified for that moment. My dad told me they sound like someone screaming in the woods, and that really interested me so I did some research. I found some pictures and boy, are they ferocious-looking! I wouldn't want to cross a fisher cat. Yikes!

That open land I found a few weeks ago off Melody Lane - I've been visiting its edge regularly on my bike rides and with the baby on our walks. Lots of good birds over there, and hardly any cars, at least not in the day when everyone's at work. I looked on a map to see the shape of the land and whether it had a name. None that I could find, but I did visit the other side and I found a sign proclaiming it a wildlife refuge and prohibiting hunting. I wonder if that means it's open to the public. It seems sort of swampy but I'd go in prepared.

I was out for a bike ride one afternoon this week. I debated bringing my binocs, because I know if I bring them, I'll look at birds and that is not exercise. I should use my half-hour of bike time to get my heart pumping. So I didn't bring them. But boy did I regret that! As soon as I was too far from home to make it worth turning back for them, waves and waves of Canada geese appeared over the horizon. I heard their cacophony even before I saw them. They flew in over me and seemed to turn at a right angle and head off beyond Neutaconkanut Hill. I watched the last string disappear, bade them have a nice winter and pedaled off.

The leaves have been gorgeous this year. If I recall correctly, RI gets the good leaves about 2 weeks before NYC, and NYC gets spring flowers maybe a whole month earlier than RI does. My mother-in-law drove baby and me to Putnam, CT, today for an appointment, and I couldn't believe the difference a few weeks makes in terms of foliage. When last we drove that way in mid-October, the trees were brilliant in all their flaming glory - red, orange, yellow, brown, gold, and green. Now the hillsides are a nearly uniform shade of rust - at least the trees that still have leaves are. The Great Dump is upon us, and soon I will find some innocent leaf pile to storm!

starting him young

2009-10-05T19:17:00.003-04:00

I took my little hatchling for an afternoon walk on this lovely fall day. I wanted to test out his new fancy stroller on our suburban streets. He really liked lying in its bassinet and watching the sky, trees, and birds whiz by. And for a mile-and-a-half walk, we saw some great birds.

blue jay
cardinal
robin
catbird
turkey vulture
mockingbird
mourning dove
grackle
song sparrow
osprey

The osprey seemed out of place in our neighborhood, since we're nowhere near water. I'm so glad I looked up!

A few days ago in the early afternoon, we spotted three red-tails over Neutaconkanut Hill. A day before that I thought I spotted a peregrine falcon, but I didn't have my binocs with me to be sure. The one time I didn't toss them in the stroller basket!

I discovered this odd patch of meadow in the middle of our neighborhood. Unfortunately, it's surrounded by mounds of dirt that I can't get a stroller over. But the edges of the meadow are home to many types of trees and brush, and today I found this area is home to lots of birds. The hatchling and I will be visiting that place again tomorrow!

a long time coming

2009-09-22T18:54:00.004-04:00

My life has changed dramatically in the months I've been away from this blog. Here's a quick update:
1. moved from Brooklyn to live with family in Rhode Island
2. watched our car die an epic and triumphant death
3. am currently unemployed, but quite busy because we
3. had a baby! He's awesome and we're so happy he's here.

There's nothing like Prospect Park in our new neighborhood, so most of my sightings are in the backyard or in nearby wooded areas or meadows. What prompted me to write today was what I saw in our backyard as I returned from a walk with my baby and my mom. A family of turkeys a dozen or so strong popped into our yard through a hole in the hedgerow, pecked around for a few minutes, and made its way into a neighbor's yard. A few of them went through a hole in the fence, but most of them flew over the short chain-link fence separating the two yards. I'd never seen turkeys in flight before! They were beautiful. I especially liked seeing their tails spread wide as they lumbered over the fence.

I don't know how frequently I'll update this - I do have a two-week-old baby to take care of. But I take him out to look at nature every day, so if I see anything magical, you'll be the first to know!

birds as signs

2009-04-23T11:16:00.005-04:00

I believe some people are more in touch with the universe and its inhabitants than other people. I visited a spiritual intuitive (the real ones don't call themselves 'psychics') a few months ago, someone I had never met, and who knew absolutely nothing about me but my first name. It was an incredible session, and I won't go into it here. I just want to preface this entry by saying that she pegged me as someone the cosmos was sending birds to, that birds would be important to me, that birds would come as signs specifically for me. Basically, I should pay attention to the birds, she told me. I was stunned, thrilled, and deeply amused that the universe should be able to communicate so much that's already inherent in me to a complete stranger.

I had a harrowing five minutes earlier this week. It was the first time in my six or so years of nannying that I've lost a child. He ran off playing tag with a friend, and a crowd separated us. I was confident he would not cross the street, as he's a very rules-oriented kid, so I chatted for about 30 seconds with the mom of the friend he'd run off with. When I realized I could no longer see my charge, I grabbed girl-child's hand and we walked calmly in the direction he had gone. I looked up the block, down, and across, but he wasn't in sight. I thought asking the school crossing guard might yield information but she, instead of helping, went on a tirade about lazy babysitters. It was while she was talking to me and I was trying to keep girl-child calm ("this is not like him," she said, squeezing my hand) that I looked up. Far off and high in the distance, three great blue herons flew through a great blue sky, legs trailing behind. I understood instantly that things would work out fine and that boy-child was safe and would soon be returned to me. It was a split-second of utter calm when I realized the universe was sending me a sign, one I had forgotten to ask for. Moments later, with the crossing guard still jabbering, I heard someone calling my name - the friend's mom, right where I had left her, with both boys safely returned. Thank you, thank you, thank you, my heart cried to the universe, for their safe return, for a lesson learned, and for my first sign.

in nature's infinite book of secrecy, I can read a little

2009-04-17T10:01:00.009-04:00

Yesterday I had work only from 6-9 p.m., so I made sure to get out into the sunshine for a few hours in the afternoon. Lots of the usual birds were about, creating an irregular but pleasant cacophony in the air all around. People were out in full force as well, lounging on the lawns, lobbing objects into the air to be retrieved by friends or canines, or just strolling joyfully into the green, like me.

I love the feeling I sometimes get of being in on Mother Nature's secrets, as if she puts her hand on my shoulder and whispers, "I made this just for you." Yesterday afternoon I had just come through the secluded Lullwater paths out to the bridge across from the Boathouse. I noticed a distinct shift in the feeling of peace in the air. It was a shift from my personal "reveling-in-nature's details" (fungi growing on fallen trees, robins buried in leaf litter in search of the perfect worm) sort of peace to a more communal "hey everyone, isn't this a great day to be alive" (let's throw sticks in the water and climb on rocks and soak in the sun) kind of feeling. It was just as I felt that kinship with all these human friends, in their separate lives joined by sunlit joy, that I felt Mother Nature's hand steer me to the water's edge. The gift she left for me that day was perched on a short branch sticking up from the water - an impossibly tiny eastern painted turtle. I looked around in disbelief that no one else had noticed or was marvelling at this tiny fellow, warming in the sun like the rest of us. I took some photos but they don't do justice to the smallitude of the creature. It's a hard lesson to learn, but some things are meant to be enjoyed in the moment of experience and only in fond memory thereafter.

Last night as I made my way to the train after work, I had a completely different experience. Two men had a powerful telescope set up outside Smiling Pizza, and I must have been smiling quizzically as I approached, because one of them asked if I'd like to look at Saturn. I jumped at the chance, of course, and saw that distant planet, its rings vertical, and two other heavenly bodies nearby, relatively speaking, and the blackness which holds them all. I saw something that's so impossibly far away that it makes everything we know to be past that point seem all the more unlikely. I love being reminded of just how small we are and how little we know, because it makes the journey to understanding that much longer and the drive to get somewhere that much more urgent. It's humbling yet challenging, and I think that's a good place for humanity to have to start over again and again. We're a curious and resilient species, and I hope we never find out all there is to know, because thenceforth there will be no place for hope in the world. And just as much as humans need love to survive, there's something to be said for the presence of hope in the individual and in society. I wondered briefly at the chances that any regular person would ever get to see something as magnificent and far-off as Saturn. Then I realized those men must love the sky and its contents as much as I love the Earth and its inhabitants. The wonders are waiting for us all around, hidden and giggling like guests at a surprise party. All we have to do as guests of honor is show up.

what is it with ducks these days?

2009-04-16T10:13:00.004-04:00

I've been doing 9-10 hour days with the kids all week, so my nature-time has been limited. But last night I got out of work at 7:15 and the daylight promised to float me home, so I traipsed through the park, following the whims of my feet. I didn't have my binoculars (I had planned to work until 8 and the forecast said rain anyway) but I have eyes. How often I have wished for a superpower! If I could choose, I'd pick binocular vision, so I could see wonders all the time, not just if I lug equipment along. I'm afraid of heights anyway, so I'd struggle to enjoy flying. I'm fine in airplanes though.

Over Easter weekend, while driving from Chrissy's family home to mine, I had my eyes on the grassy median between north- and southbound lanes of the highway. The median was a shallow valley that collected the rain into big puddles. We also saw some serious flurries. But twice on that short drive I laughed out loud to see pairs of ducks quite at home in the shallow puddles! I'd never seen an ordinary puddle put to such good use. Also on this drive we narrowly avoided hitting a roadkilled forest mammal(raccoon, perhaps?) but had plenty of time to see what must have been a raven flapping out into the road to pick at it. This bird was extremely tall, very black with perhaps a bluish sheen in the light, crowlike in body but with very powerful wings and quite the span. It was such a quick sighting as we drove past that I won't count it as a life bird, but damn, that thing was huge!

Anyway, walking home yesterday I entered the park at the Lafayette Monument on PPW and 9th Street and was just passing the picnic table and barbecue area when a red-tailed hawk swooped in over my left shoulder and landed on a tall and as yet budless tree. I followed and circled the tree to try to get a good photo from the front, but the bird turned around. As I tried to decide on an angle for the photo, the hawk took off and landed in an evergreen across the West Drive. I was about to follow when I heard loud quacking. This isn't a part of the park I normally associate with ducks, as the nearest water would be the Upper Pool, so I looked around confusedly. Who did I see making themselves comfortable in a temporary home on the West Drive? These two friends!

a little outing

2009-04-08T10:10:00.005-04:00

During yesterday's cloudy afternoon, girl child had a playdate out and boy child had soccer practice in the Long Meadow, so I had a chance to strap on the binoculars and see who was around. I walked one loop around the top of the Long Meadow and made a stop on Nellie's Lawn before the practice was over. I flushed a TON of flickers at the rim of the Vale of Cashmere. When I came out to Nellie's Lawn, I saw a redtail swoop up to the top of the tallest tree and perch just where I have seen it before. I made my way across the lawn to try to spot the nest I've read about, and it finally occurred to me that the hawk might be guarding the nest from afar. I spotted a likely looking evergreen and realized I was looking right at the nest! Someone was even home incubating. I haven't reached the nesting stage of my own pregnancy yet, but it looks pretty comfy.

As I made my way back to the soccer practice, I spotted four or five unfamiliar sparrows in small trees. They were quite obliging and I got to see a lot of their field marks, particularly their striking masks. When I had a chance to check my guide, I became fairly certain that they were chipping sparrows. I think the road to sparrow knowledge will be a long and repetitive one for me. It takes several real-life sightings for a single species to etch its home in my memory in any sort of permanent way. But at other times I find that all the paging idly through the field guide that I used to do on the train actually gave me a knowledge I didn't know I had and access to facts I had no idea I owned. I haven't checked my master list but I think the chipping sparrow is a new bird for me. Hopefully its features find a home in my brain and someday I'll think of it as an old friend.

I was able to leave work early from the soccer practice when the dad showed up, so I seized the waning daylight and walked home through the park. I'm sure I took a meandering route, drunk on the combination of chilly air and springtime vistas. I started to think about what old friends I might be seeing again soon, particularly black-crowned night herons. Well, it was sooner than I thought, for as I rounded Wellhouse Drive toward the western lakeshore, I spotted three of them close together in the reeds. It seemed like they'd soon have a good meal, as I saw several fish-splashes near their perch.

Here's my list for that day:

northern flicker
red-tailed hawk and nest
golden-crowned kinglet
white-throated sparrow
northern cardinal
American robin
European starling
tufted titmouse
northern waterthrush
red-winged blackbird
Canada goose
eastern phoebe
mute swan
mourning dove
white-breasted nuthatch
downy woodpecker
ruddy duck
mallard
northern shoveler
American coot
black-crowned night heron
chipping sparrow

sun, salt, and smoke

2009-04-06T11:21:00.006-04:00

Chrissy and I took a walk around the loop at the Salt Marsh Nature Center on Sunday afternoon. It was the perfect weather - about 63 degrees with lots of warm sun and a light breeze. Lots of waterbirds about, but not much else. Most numerous on the water, to my delight, were buffleheads! I did not think I'd see them again once the weather got warm. All told, there were probably about 20-25 of the dapper little ducks. A double-crested cormorant kept his distance. Something about that bird reminds me more of dinosaurs than any other bird I've seen. I also had the pleasure of seeing several juvenile and/or female red-breasted mergansers. Four or five bobbed in the main neck of the water, while one pair lingered in the inlet near the green bridge. I enjoyed watching these two up close as they teamed up to herd fish into shallower water. They zoomed through the water, heads down, necks forming a straight line with their spines, beaks and sometimes even eyes in the water. I could see small silver fish flopping atop the water in their attempt to escape those serrated jaws. Also hanging about in this inlet were a few American wigeons and some mallards.

The salt marsh seems a little behind the rest of Brooklyn in its trees developing buds and the land becoming generally verdant. The dry brown phragmites waved and squeaked against one another in the wind, giving me false hopes about nesting species. The only land/air birds I saw were crows, red-winged blackbirds, robins, pigeons, and starlings. Not like Jamaica Bay, where you can see many species in one visit, if you are patient. I guess it has to do with the uniformity of habitat and lack of cover available at the salt marsh. And maybe it's just not time yet.

We also followed one of many unofficial paths a short distance, to see what we could see. What we found was this area, razed and burned, with the smell of smoke yet lingering. At first I thought perhaps some careless partiers started a fire they couldn't contain, but it seemed too clean and methodical to have been an accident. Maybe it's environmental management and they have something in mind for this area, or maybe it's an old fire and there was just really nothing left. I just hated to see a wasteland in the middle of a wonderland.

The highlight of my trip to the Salt Marsh Nature Center this weekend, though, was a new life bird! I spent some time scanning the water's edge, looking for resting birds along the shore. What I saw surprised me: a squat-bodied yet leggy shorebird, dark grey above with white underparts and a most unusual beak. It was long, and thick like a drinking straw, and bright red in color. "Oystercatcher?" I said incredulously, in the very voice you imagine. I took some mental notes of the bird so I could look it up at home. It didn't seem at the time to be an obvious or correct guess, since I had no idea, until that moment, that anything about oystercatchers had ever found a home in some corner of my bird-brain. But when I had checked my library of various field guides and looked up some photos online, I felt pretty confident about my ID (nobirdy else has that telltale beak and body type) and proud that I knew something I didn't know I knew. It feels good to have a little ounce of mastery over some field of knowledge. And to add a new bird to my life list - welcome American oystercatcher!

a new birder in the family

2009-03-06T21:39:00.004-05:00

Now that the secret's out, I can let you wonderful folks in on the reason behind my recent blogging hiatus: I'm growing a baby up in here (and had not yet told my employers)! I'm 16 weeks along and feeling great. In fact, I felt so great after hearing my baby's beautiful heartbeat at my appointment this morning that I treated myself to a two hour bird walk in Prospect Park. The sky was overcast, but thinly so, with occasional tiny patches of blue. The air was warm enough, but very damp. As I walked down the Long Meadow to check out the Upper Pool, I surveyed the desolate scape of the ballfields; much of that snow would melt by the time I returned that way two hours later. At the pools I counted among my fine feathered friends mallards, American black ducks, ring-necked ducks, and a bufflehead. The pool remains mostly frozen over with a thin layer of ice, and only about a fifth of the water is open for waterfowl. The bufflehead was forced into close proximity with other ducks; they usually shy away from the more gregarious and affable mallards. The resident great blue heron of that area must have been on his lunch break during my visit.

But what that area lacked in herons it more than made up for in woodpeckers. I heard the telltale pik of downies and they weren't hard to spot. I found two females in the grove of trees on the mound opposite the pool. A little listening and a few minutes later, I found two males in a territory squabble. The red patch on the back of one of the male's heads caught my attention - it seemed incomplete. It was really two patches of red separated by a bar of black in between. I wondered if it was a young male growing its first red feathers and the process was not yet finished, or if perhaps that particular woodpecker would always look like that. These males were noticeably larger than the females, and their beaks seemed longer as well, not as "wispy", but I still lean toward downy for these guys, rather than hairy. Their beaks were not nearly as long as their heads, they weren't as surprisingly big as hairy woodpeckers I've encountered before, and the noises they made while bickering over branch rights didn't match anything in my mental sound catalog, so I couldn't compare.

I felt it was a safe time of day to head to the Vale of Cashmere, and I'm so glad I did! I lingered on the path above for many minutes, listening and locating. Here I saw old friends like cardinals, white-throated sparrows, and tufted titmice galore. I heard many chickadees, but never found one. Stinking up the place with his loud whirring call was an elusive red-bellied woodpecker. I think the landscape of the area made for deceptive acoustics, and it took me a while to find the real bird. But it's been several months since I've spotted a red-belly, so I was glad to do the work of finding it. And completely by accident, while tracking down the red-bellied woodpecker, I paused at just the right spot and caught a yellow-bellied sapsucker in my bins. I made my way down below to the actual Vale after a while, but the only activity there was an NYU student film in the rehearsal process. I affirmed visually that the source of that new obnoxious and incessant sound was indeed a blue jay and made my merry way up the path near Nellie's Lawn. I've heard a pair of red-tails are making a nest in the area, and I was able to locate one hawk but no nest. Also added another woodpecker to my list after saying to myself, "That is a sound I know. What is it?" I followed the sound not into the branches but down to the grass, to find a solitary northern flicker. A four-woodpecker day!

Over the Zoo I saw what was probably a Cooper's hawk. I long for the day when I'll see a raptor I can identify besides the red-tailed hawk. I feel like I've studied the pictures and the patterns and the colors, but I think I need to move on to flight silhouettes to really make any progress on that front.

I heard a new song today, and it went like this, whistled clearly(and able to be easily reproduced my my nimble whistler's lips): sol do do do. Long sol, short dos. The whole thing took about a second and a half and was repeated at intervals of about 10-15 seconds. I thought I tracked it to a titmouse, but who can be sure? I want to hear that one again.

Today I also saw the first flowers of the year and heard my very first "old Sam Peabody" of 2009. It fills me with eager anticipation for the blossoming of new life, as the approach of spring always has, but this year I am part of Spring, as the world and I grow new life together.

early February wrap-up

2009-02-12T21:25:00.010-05:00

Well, I ought to bang out an update before we head up to Saratoga Springs for a little winter getaway. Last weekend I went out a few times and saw some great things.

Last Friday I walked to work in the cold and took my time. I'd love to spend more time at the feeders than I do, but often another birder tromps in and flushes them all, and I don't have time to wait for them to come back. So this time I went over to the Boathouse and Binnen Bridge to check out the activity. The water was almost completely frozen over, with 25+ ducks crammed into the small area of open water. I watched them slap their flat feet on the ice and slip around for a while, and that cheered me up pretty well. I saw a raptor come in to perch in the tall naked tree by the bridge (displacing, of course, the little brown jobs, red guys, and squirrels that had been so diligently scratching at the ice to reach the scattered seed frozen below), so I made my way over to get a better look. Here's an excerpt from my notes.

-raptor over Boathouse lake, lands tree near Binnen Bridge. Small birds flee.
-slender birds, streaks of brown on throat +chest, creamy clear belly
-long, squared tail w/regular barring - no white tip
-seemed to move tail slightly while perched. face like RTH but much smaller overall. Tail may be notched.

When it flew away over the Boathouse, within seconds, all the small birds returned to the Binnen Bridge. I laughed to see such a collective yet non-emotional display of relief.

Later, in the Nethermead, I saw another raptor perched atop a bare tree. This time the light made it difficult to get good details, but here's what I've got.

-seems "puffed up" for warmth
-short tail relative to size
-very streaky (brown) all over front
-much smaller than RTH
-possible dark cheek patches

I didn't feel that these two raptors were the same bird or even really the same species. I circled toward the road to try to get better light, but the sky was overcast and the bird was mostly a dark dot. As I stood in the Center Drive near the steep path, trying to discern anything about the mysterious raptor, I saw movement and heard the flapping of large wings in a tree by the side of the road. All of a sudden, a red-tailed hawk, the source of the commotion, flew directly over my head, about 15 feet above me. I had an excellent view, of course. It landed on a low branch in the wooded area to the right of the steep path. I enjoyed its show but didn't want to be distracted, lest the unknown treetop bird make a move without my capturing new details. I fixed my sights once again on the dark dot, hoping for some new sign, only to be sidetracked by yet another majestic red-tail making right for me.
This one landed on a branch directly overhead. I know it's "uncool" or whatever to anthropomorphize birds once you're a birder, but it would be against my nature to stop now, and I really like my nature. So all I'm saying is this: it made me laugh to see the hawks, which make up 90% of my raptor experience because they're big and easy to find, scrambling for attention the second I finally see something unfamiliar.

Saturday I packed a picnic (which we ended up eating in the warmth of the car) and we ventured out to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge. The gravel path was slushy and muddy and it made me glad I wore my waterproof hikers. The West Pond was frozen over, dotted only with gulls and goose poop. The birds were just not there. I think everybody was over on the East Pond, which looked unfrozen as we pulled out of the driveway to continue our day's adventures. I did see a few fine specimens, however, including one bufflehead, some mallards and American black ducks, a male common merganser, a robin, a crow, a cardinal, and to top it all off, a yellow-rumped warbler. It wasn't the best Jamaica day, but we always make a few winter trips there, and that makes me appreciate the other seasons of birding there all the more.

Sunday is usually projects-at-home day, and after our four loads of laundry were done but before we got too involved in our personal interests, Chrissy and I took a walk in Prospect Park. We followed much the same path as our last walk - up the west side of the lake(ducks, geese, gulls), past the feeders(downies, house finches, titmice, chickadees), to the Boathouse(ducks), and through the Nethermead(nothing!). This time we cut over Lookout Hill to make our way home. Climbing the road, we came upon a small group looking intently up into a tree. I paused to see what had attracted their interest, and soon found myself rapt as well, by a pair of raccoons mating in the late-afternoon light. I won't go into a lot of detail, but I will say it was interesting to see how much dominating the male had to do to get the female to submit and stay still. Just in time for Valentine's Day!

Brooklyn Heights

2009-02-02T09:46:00.003-05:00

I fully intended to go on the first-Sunday bird walk yesterday. I got up, had breakfast, took a shower, and had plenty of time to get dressed and get to the Boathouse before 10:00, but something happened. The bed monster got me. I have no regrets, though. I really needed the extra rest, and I still had a Puppy Bowl party to prepare for and throw. Who can resist a Sunday morning snuggle? Not I, dear reader, not I!

But I did have time before the Puppy Bowl to head down to the Brooklyn Heights Esplanade with my binoculars, at the recommendation of A Brooklyn Bachelor, to look for kestrels. The air was just starting to warm up and I still had no idea what a gorgeous day it would turn out to be. The constant breeze from the cars below made my eyes water profusely, but I got used to it after a few minutes and was able to enjoy my time there. I checked out the likely perches, but nobody was home. I did, however, see a bunch of bufflehead drakes and one hen, all separately dotting the river, tiny patches of bright white bobbing and diving in the wakes of passing boats. Add to that a small raft of ruddy ducks, lots of American black ducks sunning on the docks, many gulls, and a few cormorants. I tried to get a good view of this one silvery grebe-like bird, but it was just too far away to identify. It had a pointy longish bill, and was darker above than below, but I could not tell where the dark began and ended in the bright midday sun. Soon it was time for lunch at Vegetarian Ginger, my favorite place to eat tofu and seitan, and party preparations. Everything that followed was wonderful and fun. I'd say yesterday had a mix of everything I like - snuggling, birds, good food, and fun with friends. I hope everybody gets to have a day like that!

warm-day excursion

2009-01-27T10:13:00.002-05:00

Last Friday, the temperature nearly hit 50 degrees, so I decided to walk to work through the park and see what I could see. I trudged through slush and slid through shallow mud. Way out, ringing the unfrozen center of the lake, were some Canada geese, fewer mallards, and hundreds of gulls with a few black-backs mixed in. That group was a little too far out for easy identification. As I approached the base of Lookout Hill on Wellhouse Drive, I saw a red-tailed hawk swoop out from over the trees. Then another, and another, and another! Four at the same time! I watched them for a few minutes as they swirled and wheeled, sometimes close enough for three birds in my bins, sometimes grappling a bit with one another. One of the hawks was missing at least one primary flight feather, more likely two, judging from the size of the space.

I didn't have time to check out the feeders, but had a good time crossing the Nethermead. It was empty but for three guys and their dogs. I saw two red-tails fly over my head from Lookout Hill toward the Binnen Water. A minute or so later, when everything was still and quiet, and the men and their dogs had moved off, something in flight caught my eye and its unfamiliarity gave me a little thrill. I had such a short sighting that I will probably never know what it really was, only that it had a white head as viewed from below, dark cheek patches, and awesome uniform light brown speckling on its creamy belly and under-wings. It wasn't much bigger than a pigeon, and its tail was long and narrow, and more squared than fan-shaped. It could have been a merlin, or a kestrel, and seeing another bird just like it the next day in Rhode Island didn't help me get a better idea. I think I need some flashcards or something for these smaller raptors, or maybe just a more concerted study would do the trick.

As I went up the steep path connecting the Nethermead to the Long Meadow, I heard a steady and rapid tapping close beside my head. I paused to look around for a woodpecker, only to be mocked and thwarted by the real source of the sound: a very stiff leaf slapping rhythmically against its branch in the wind. The tap at Fallkill Falls must be turned off for the season, for the water to the left of the bridge was as frozen and still as the pools to the right. The reeded bank of the frozen and snowed-over Upper Pool boasted a lovely great blue heron, still as an ice sculpture.

I was almost to work, and thus almost out of my bird-mind and into the everyday-mind, when I heard a crow cawing and cawing. I looked around to find it, only to see the crow being pursued by a red-tailed hawk. This was, of course, a temporary arrangement, for no sooner had the pair disappeared behind the treeline did they reappear, and this time with the hawk being dogged by the crow and the three buddies it had recently rounded up. How quickly tides turn! It was neat to have one last experience before turning into work-zombie Leah. I'm glad to be the kind of person whose real life is about fun and adventures and who doesn't need her job to tell her who she is.

first life bird of 2009

2009-01-18T13:01:00.003-05:00

My sister is in for the weekend and after breakfast at the Fifth Avenue Diner, Chrissy and I dragged (and drove) her through the snow-shrouded Green-Wood Cemetery. Our feet were not prepared for the snowy walkways, so we did not stay long. But we paused at the Sylvan Water so I could spy on the birds huddled in the unfrozen center of the pond. Here I saw a snow goose, a few Canada geese, some mallards, several pairs of American wigeons, and a pied-billed grebe. Hidden among the wigeons however, was one beautiful rufous-headed specimen I'd never seen before; I guessed it to be, from the company it kept, a Eurasian wigeon. I verified it with my field guide and now I've got a new life bird for 2009!

Later on top of the highest hill (great views of the Parachute Jump and shoreline at Coney Island this time of year) I was greeted by a chorus of funny nuthatch voices. A good selection of winter birds up there: blue jay, cardinal, dark-eyed junco, white-breasted nuthatch, and a brilliant red-bellied woodpecker.

Overall, a great haul for twenty minutes!

holiday sightings

2008-12-31T14:05:00.004-05:00

When I was home in Rhode Island over the Christmas break, I didn't have time to break out the binoculars, what with all the feasting and the hugging. But I did peer out windows every so often. Several mornings I woke at my mother-in-law's home in Johnston in time to watch a handsome pair of red-tails catching thermals over the woods behind the house. From my own mother's home in Woonsocket, I peered out the back window at our neighbor's massive and gorgeous house, noting several new stone gargoyles atop the chimneys. PSYCH! They turned out to be several of the turkey vultures my mom has been seeing in fair number since shortly before Thanksgiving. I do not have memories of these birds in my neighborhood from when I was a child, and they are so distinct and somewhat ominous that I'm sure I would have noticed. What brings them here this year, and how long will they stay? I also saw a great murder of crows fly over around dusk, but that's nothing new. They hang out in the bare trees at nearby Cold Spring Park until it's time to mass-move to their nighttime haunt.

As the year draws to a close, I realize I will really miss 2008. What a wonderful year it was. I'm compiling a list of all the new birds I saw this year; I hope to post it soon. But 2009 brings its own blessings and adventures, and I welcome them all.

yeah yeah, fair-weather friends

2008-12-23T10:46:00.005-05:00

It's been cold, and I've been kind of wimpy about it this year. Also I have irrational fears about slipping on the ice. But I wanted to share this photo with you, since I finally uploaded stuff from my camera. It's a pretty sweet hooded merganser I saw on the western island in Prospect Lake a few weeks ago.

I did go on the first Sunday bird walk of December. My friend Gabby tagged along. For a non-birder, she was a great companion - sharp eyes and deep curiosity. It was a rollicking good walk in the briskosity of a new December morn. Any excuse to secretly wear longjohns!

Yesterday at work some gorgeous and large raptor flew through the backyard twice, around four o'clock. Not a red-tail, maybe a Cooper's hawk though. I had just long enough a glimpse to get an impression of finely ordered bold spotting.

This morning I was lazing in a sunbeam, relishing that brief moment in which one can actually enjoy lying awake in bed. I heard the approaching cacophony of a flock of Canada geese, and rushed to the window and tore up the sash just in time to see them fly right over my building. A pretty nice way to start the day!

addendum

2008-12-02T10:43:00.002-05:00

Oh, and one more thing: It was warm enough to see insects yesterday! Over behind the Wellhouse, I followed a speedy honeybee until it flew too high. And by the Binnen Water I laughed in delight when a little yellow butterfly fluttered sleepily through the fence toward me, crossed my path just a foot in front of me, and flew over the Nethermead. I never expected to see those cheery fellows in December!

must...fight...temptation...

2008-12-01T21:00:00.003-05:00

And the current temptation is a little something called Animal Crossing: City Folk, which has devoured many of my waking hours since its release in mid-November. But I forced my pasty, bleary-eyed self to go out-of-doors this morning, for the air was warm and the sky was a bright blue balloon with fluffy cotton balls glued to it. Even now I am exerting great force of willpower to commit today's ramble to writing before resuming my (non-birdly) nerdly ways.

It was certainly the warmest December first I can remember. By the time I reached Prospect Park, I was nearly too warm for my autumn jacket. I hovered near the Lake for a bit, checking in with the regulars, only to be treated to a swirling flyover by a pair of great blue herons. Circling higher still were three red-tailed hawks. I wasn't the only person watching them, either. Who watches the 'watchers? I wonder. I've spied on birders across the water with my binoculars, but I've never been sure they were watching me too. I hope my first instinct will be to wave genially, when that day comes.

I strolled over to the Breeze Hill feeders - first time this season I've seen them filled. A flashy red-breasted nuthatch zoomed in and stole away with its quarry several times, leaving brief intervals in which a tufted titmouse, a black-capped chickadee, and a downy woodpecker took turns grabbing a bite to eat. The party was over when a clever squirrel climbed across the PVC pipe and down the caged feeder headfirst, where it clung and nibbled and generally hogged all the food.

I sped through the Lullwater, flushing a mixed flock of juncos, house sparrows, white-throated sparrows, and robins. Joining this group ever so briefly on the ground was a downy woodpecker. I can't remember ever having seen a woodpecker stand on the ground. It was a weird moment.

At the Binnen Water, I encountered another great blue heron, this time submerged to the tops of its legs. It moved silently, intently stalking prey that was invisible to me with an admirable grace. I made my way to the Pools to check in on the bufflehead situation. No dice. But aside from the usual mallards and recent odd ruddy duck, I saw the telltale horizontal white face-stripe of yet another great blue heron, partially obscured by reeds.

Last year around this time (December 5, by my notes), a hawk spent a few long afternoons in the backyard of the private home in which I work. I was a real noob then, but I took good notes and made some sketches. I was fairly certain it was a Cooper's hawk. Unruffled by a taunting squirrel, it seemed just to want a place to rest during the flurries. With the current weather forecast, I don't think I'll be seeing anything like that this week. But I still check the massive catalpa, phone lines, and fence a few times a week, just in case I get an interesting visitor.

time to play catch-up

2008-11-22T10:45:00.015-05:00

Sorry for the lag in updates. I've been busy doing awesome stuff. Read on to find out what!

Three weeks ago, Chrissy and I trekked up to Inwood Hill Park, which had this veil of mystery around it, because we just couldn't imagine a big, cool park up there. This park is home to Manhattan's only remaining salt marsh. When we arrived, the tide was out, so the gulls and egrets and ducks were left to slog through the mud to reach the few remaining shallow puddles. This park is also the site where Peter Minuit purchased Manhattan from the Lenape, and a boulder bears a plaque commemorating a tree that was planted in that spot to commemorate the exchange but which has since passed on to tree heaven. We climbed the hill and hiked around, ever wary of the slick carpet of wet leaves. This snail-like rock and tree combo greeted us amid a landscape of yellow. A few years ago the park staff made an effort to reintroduce bald eagles and the remains of the now-defunct project, a wooden shelter with an open top and caged front, sit high on the slope of Inwood Hill. No eagles here, but it was an excellent spot to watch a flock of cedar waxwings in the treetops below. I also caught sight of an eastern phoebe flouting the usual rules all over the empty eagle shelter. Several red-tails made appearances, and I nearly fell over on the slippery leaves trying to keep them in my binoculars. Later, we came to some natural caves, to which Chrissy was brave enough to hike over the steep and slippery ground but I was not. I hate falling down, or thinking that I have a good chance of falling down. But I'm glad I spent that time peering into the trees, because I spotted my first white-breasted nuthatch of the season. The nuthatch holds a special place in my bird-heart because it was the first bird I didn't recognize when starting this crazy birdlife and so also the first bird I had to attempt to identify. Also, they're just plain cute.

One Saturday we ventured out to the Queens County Farm Museum, the city's only working historical farm, for a self-guided tour. The sky was darkly overcast, and the wind was warm but damp and strong, and I wished I'd brought my jacket after all. As soon as we walked through the gate, I spotted some smallish bird of prey diving after a smaller bird. I saw this bird several times throughout our tour, but the light was terrible for identification, so it remains a mystery. I had a great time looking at the different types of ducks and the many colorful chickens. The farm also has resident turkeys and peacocks. It was also cool to see a bunch of stylishly polka-dotted guinea fowl running around. I've only seen those guys once before, at the Norman J. Levy Park and Preserve, a great place to walk around and explore. I went there very shortly after my love of birds blossomed but before I really undertook any bird-learning, so I'd love to visit again. At the Queens Farm, a huge flock of grackles squawked in the trees. At a rough estimate, I'd say there were about five hundred. It was pretty cool. The bird of prey made several swoops toward the flock, upsetting a black cloud from the trees each time, but I don't know if it got what it came for.

One day I took the kids to my perfect leaf pile in Prospect Park for an hour of ridiculous fun. When we were finally getting tuckered out and our lungs were clogged with leaf dust, I noticed that this fellow had been standing sentinel directly overhead. I'm glad I kept a close eye on the little ones, lest they be mistaken for prey!

I took a walk in Prospect Park one Sunday afternoon to check up on autumn's progress and seek out some feathered friends.
Highlights included a few cedar waxwings, a rattling kingfisher, and this partially submerged heron.

Later that week I had a bonanza in Prospect Park. Not only are my favorite birds, the buffleheads, back (o, frabjous day!), but I saw a ton of American goldfinches, a pert little golden-crowned kinglet, and a pair of red-winged blackbirds flying in the sunlight.

Saturday we were on our way to see Quantum of Solace when we stumbled across CANstruction at the Winter Garden. It's a feat of small-scale architecture for a good cause. I reccommend checking it out!

And finally, we're almost up to date. This past Sunday we walked around the Reservoir at Central Park. Well, most of the way around - the glare off the water on the last leg of the loop gives me a wicked headache. Buffleheads made plenty of appearances - all male, though, like some adorable feathery Chippendales show. I haven't seen a female yet this season. Also present on the Reservoir were a pair of hooded mergansers, plenty of lush and velvety mallards, some great black-backed gulls, and plenty of northern shovelers. On the way out of the park, I had views of white-throated sparrows, blue jays, a mockingbird, and a red-bellied woodpecker.

I'm in the market for good birding gloves, now that the chill is really upon us. Windproof/waterproof? Any suggestions?

birds...and people?!

2008-11-04T11:40:00.003-05:00

Sunday morning, bolstered by the extra early hour of sunlight, I finally made it to a bird walk hosted by the Brooklyn Bird Club. I'd never gone birding in a group. The air was cold, the sunlight was warm, and I was a little underdressed. Still, I had a wonderful time, and I got to meet the authors of two blogs I read regularly, A Brooklyn Bachelor and brooklynometry, which was a real treat for me. I was, by far, the youngest person in the group, but I welcomed the experienced eyes and ears of other long-time birders. Simply being awake when birds are active is a great first step. As soon as I walked outside, I spotted a downy woodpecker on an evergreen in front of my building, and some bluish-yellowy warbler type nearby. I knew I was in for a good morning.

The light in Prospect Park at 8 a.m. was bright and clear, and made the whole day seem young. Our group meandered very slowly from the Audubon Center, over the Binnen Bridge to the Nethermead, up to the dog beach (which is when I sneaked off to take advantage of the comfort station at the Picnic House - I had forgotten what cold weather does to the bladder!), then across the ballfields and back down to the Lake, where I parted ways with the group so I could get home in time to go to church. A few exciting birds were called out, but I didn't get to see the meadowlark, merlin, or woodcock, all of which would have been life-birds for me. I did have some excellent views of a sleepy hermit thrush taking in the sunshine, the golden flight of flickers, a pair of red-tails in synchronized flight, golden-crowned kinglets flitting about low branches, and an extended view of a handsome yellow-bellied sapsucker.

I took a picture of this tree because I loved the contrast of color between the berries and leaves. Later I overheard someone say that shrikes use the three-inch thorns on these hawthorn trees to impale their prey so it cannot get away. Deadly beauty, right here in my backyard.

These walks are the first Sunday of each month. They will start at 10 a.m. beginning next month, and they always start from the Boathouse. I think I'll be dressing a little warmer next time!

Fall leaf walk

2008-11-03T22:38:00.005-05:00

Chrissy read somewhere that peak foliage for NYC this year would be November 1-2, so we planned our weekend around that. Saturday morning we rose and went to breakfast at The Oak and the Iris on our way to Green-Wood Cemetery. I had forgotten my cemetery map, but was confident the security guard at our trusty Fort Hamilton Parkway entrance would be able to furnish one. First mistake. While we were waiting for the patrol to drive some over to the guardhouse, we tried to help another couple locate a plot on a map with no street names. A gust of wind later and there's my second mistake. The unclosed guardhouse door slammed into the concrete post which is supposed to prevent it from swinging too far open. Unfortunately, I had been resting my hand on this post, unaware that the door was not properly shut. Pain shot through my hand and I fell on the ground and cried. Now if you witnessed this, you might think I am a giant baby, but actually I have a very high threshold for pain, except for finger pain. Weird. I discovered this a few years ago on the job when my charge smashed my finger in a mailbox at the children's museum in Boston. Anyway, after I dried up, I inspected my finger, which was all right aside from some pinprick bruising, residual pain, and a feeling of flatness in the muscle tissue that hadn't been there before. On the bright side, it turned out to be a lovely day for leaves and birds!

We didn't stick around to get that map after all, and just headed off to climb a tall hill. On our way up, we saw dark-eyed juncos, northern mockingbirds, and northern flickers. At the top, we found Stephen Whitney's impressive family mausoleum surrounded by hermit thrushes. The views from up there are incredible. We could see the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge that we scooted over in the summertime. Above, I noticed a large bird of prey trying to catch thermals. It was distinctly different from the silhouette of a red-tailed hawk, which I've come to recognize so well this year yet not take for granted that every hawk is a red-tail. The wingspan was perhaps comparable, but this bird's wings were very tall, taking up a lot of space on the sides of its body. Also, it had gorgeous uniform speckling across both underwings. The bird showed white undertail coverts, and its striped tail seemed longer than it was wide, and not spread out like a fan, but held in a more rectangular shape. My first thought was a Cooper's hawk, and I suppose it's possible and even likely at this time of year, but I wish I'd had a longer sighting so I could catch more details.

The cemetery is alive with color, and with birds. Also up on this hill I saw a downy woodpecker and a red-bellied woodpecker. At the base of the hill on the other side, sitting atop a stone obelisk, was a proud little yellow-rumped warbler. Here's a beautiful tree for you. The sight of it helped me forget about my throbbing finger.

We soon headed home to rest our feet, but we stopped at The Oak and Iris again for lunch. I guess that says we have a lot of exploring left to do in our neighborhood. After lunch, we sat on our couch and had a Mario Party. When our feet were thoroughly rested, and Chrissy's butt was firmly kicked (I was the Super Star of the game), we left our jackets at home and ventured into Prospect Park for a self-guided tour of gorgeous leaves and the birds among them. I was so busy ogling the trees that I forgot to take notes, so instead of telling you about birds, I will leave you with a lovely photo from late Saturday afternoon. The big Leaf Dump is sure to happen soon, so get out there and enjoy the splendor!

Halloween work walk

2008-11-02T09:54:00.000-05:00

On Friday, I made time to walk through Prospect Park on my way to work. It was too warm to really feel like Halloween, but it was certainly good weather for finding birds. At the Lake I checked in with the seasonal regulars: mallards, Canada geese, coots, ruddy ducks, and shovelers. In one report someone claims to have seen a bufflehead in Prospect Park this season, so I'm gearing up for a happy day when I see my first of the year.

On Wellhouse Drive, I was accosted on all sides by that incessant chip chip chip of cardinals making sure they're all still there. That sound gets right into my sinuses and reverberates in my head. Maybe that's a bad wavelength for me or something. I hope their numbers thin out over the winter (not that they die, just that they move for a while) so I can appreciate their sounds again next year. I've had enough!

I had a little extra time (what an idea, extra time - that's as silly as saying extra money) so I stopped over at the fishing beach to see if I could find some wigeons or grebes. No wigeons that day, but I got a great look at a pied-billed grebe with a fat little fish in its beak. It dove under with the fish, resurfaced a few feet away, and gulped it down its gullet in a few swift movements. At this location I was also tricked by a bird. Here is what I thought I was looking at: a branch sticking up from the water with some sparrow-sized, long-tailed bird perched on top. Then the whole thing moved, and I realized with some awe that the part I thought was the small bird was a great blue heron's whole head. It was a like a Magic Eye puzzle when your eyes adjust to see what's really there, if only you know how to look.

I worked my way through the Lullwater, where I heard the telltale tapping of a nearby woodpecker. I love when I'm successful in finding a bird by locating the source of a sound. It turned out to be a lovely female hairy woodpecker, pecking thoughtfully and deliberately at a branch a few feet away. On this trail I also encountered a downy woodpecker and white-throated sparrows. I also followed my ears to find a belted kingfisher perched on a fallen tree in the water. I enjoy their distinct rattling calls, almost like an engine failing to start.

In the Nethermead I came upon an impressive flock of dark-eyed juncos. About fifty of them blended into the dry autumn grass. I like juncos because I think they have a dumb expression, and they remind me a little of Feathers McGraw. Here I also spotted a palm warbler hopping in and out of the shade and a brown creeper that landed so fast it seemed to have been drawn to the tree next to me by magnetism.

When I returned around 5:45 p.m., the light was fading fast. I expected to see children and dogs in costume, but I'd have to get out into the neighborhoods for that. I did see several small bats doing their silent, frantic, bug-catching acrobatics in the light of streetlamps along Center Drive. Wonderfully apt for the holiday.

leah labrecque and the blustery day

2008-10-30T22:22:00.006-04:00

To be fair, it was the day after the blustery day, but I jump at the chance to reference my favorite Winnie-the-Pooh story. I was eager to get out and look for birds on Wednesday, as I knew there'd be plenty riding the end of that nor'easter. I was in the park from 11:50 a.m. until 1:00 p.m., and experienced myriad weather patterns, in addition to the constant wind and cold - from clouds to light drizzle to sun breaking through to patches of blue and back to clouds and drizzle and finally hail.

I spent a chunk of my time in the shelter by the western lake shore, peering past the mallards in their gorgeous green and chestnut attire, past the northern shovelers with faces planted firmly in the water, past even my good and smiling friends the ruddy ducks, attempting to get a good view of what was certainly a pied-billed grebe. In my experience, they tend to stick to the reedy areas where they can hide or else they swim just a tad too far out for me to see just how pied their bills really are. Also present at the Lake: American coots, Canada geese, a handsome pair of American black ducks, a pair of mute swans, and a single young cormorant, not to mention the resident throng of gulls.

Nearly every other bird I saw was a yellow-rumped warbler. Those guys were out in full force, both hover-gleaning at plants and hunting in the grass. I stopped in at the fishing beach for a moment to look for shier species of waterfowl, but all I saw was a lone Canada goose paddling lazily. Nearby on the Peninsula, I caught sight of a ruby-crowned kinglet who was actually sporting said ruby crown. I've seen hundreds of kinglets in the past 3 weeks but only two with that punky red stripe, and not since spring has one crest been raised. Also present on the Peninsula: a glossy eastern phoebe, many northern cardinals, and a few dark-eyed juncos.

Just south of the Terrace Bridge, you may have seen me execute a jerky and nonsensical dance. This is because I was too happy to see a new bird. I really must control my happy-kicking legs. The bird in question was just one of a pair that swam out from the cover of the reeds and into plain sight, prime viewing territory. I'm always thrilled for a new bird, but perhaps most of all for a new duck, and these stunning American wigeons really filled the bill. The female's luxurious cinnamon feathers complement the male's green mask and shining white forehead, as if they are dressed for a masquerade ball.

Knowing the day's highlight was probably past, I followed the Lullwater along the western trail, headed to work. I encountered several blue jays, one of which scolded me soundly for trespassing near his perch, a single palm warbler poking about on the soft, damp ground, and the inevitable pair of mourning doves I flushed from the path. When I came out to the Nethermead, a lovely large red-tailed hawk flew across my vision, left to right, about 20 feet from the ground, to a high perch near the Binnen Water. Sadly, I didn't have time to follow it. I rounded out my short trip with white-throated sparrows singing their "old-Sam-Peabody" ditty somewhere far off, a northern flicker on the wing, a hermit thrush posing with ruddy tail prominently featured, and an aptly-named-for-Halloween murder of crows on a distant ballfield. I finally put up my umbrella when it began to hail and after a wonderfully successful hour, turned myself and my thoughts toward work.

spooktacular nature

2008-10-26T19:10:00.004-04:00

I walked to work several times last week, peeking in on the Lake's inhabitants and resting travelers, crossing the Nethermead, and checking in at the Lower Pool. Shoveler numbers seemed to be increasing, which gave me plenty of opportunities to espy that gorgeous green speculum. Kinglets abounded as well, surrounding me with sweet little songs. I found myself trying to sneak up on a hermit thrush near the Picnic House when something shiny distracted me. Well, not shiny, exactly. I had spotted a bright white squirrel. It's been two years since I saw my first one near the Harmony Playground. I doubt it's the same squirrel - it's very visible lunch for a raptor. Perhaps it will be a ghost for Halloween?

better late than never

2008-10-21T11:55:00.003-04:00

Last Saturday was one of those rare days when everything I did felt awesome. I rolled out of bed to help with the Lookout Hill cleanup for a few hours. I raked leaves, threw sticks over a fence, swept landings with a pushbroom, and enjoyed the brisk morning air. Later, when my hands were raw from manual labor, I stopped at a yard sale, took a shower, ate some leftovers, and made my way over to Green-Wood Cemetery. Map in hand, I decided to make the Dell and Crescent Waters my destination. I love exploring new places and finding new ways to old places; the Crescent and Dell Waters fell that day into the former category.

A flush of mourning doves heralded my entrance through the Fort Hamilton Parkway gates. Soon I tracked down the singer of a repetitive and varied song - a northern mockingbird atop a mausoleum. It struck me as odd the juxtaposition of two such classic symbols: a bird for life and cold stone for death. But even stone erodes over time, reminding us that perhaps death is not as eternal as we secretly and deeply fear.

On my walk, I saw lots of blue jays zooming from evergreen to evergreen. Eventually they sent up an alarm, and I was lucky enough to see the cause: a red-tailed hawk's approach. Later, on a slope, I saw a pair of small, yellowish warblers with rusty caps in the grass, bobbing their tails. Palms, I do believe. Tons of kinglets around as well. I accidentally came very close to a golden-crowned, but it didn't seem bothered by my closeness. I stayed very still and watched it for a few minutes, and all of a sudden, the little guy flew right at my face! I laughed out of sheer surprise, and at the last second it swerved abruptly upward. What fleeting moments make up our greatest joys!

quick walks in Prospect Park

2008-10-11T09:12:00.002-04:00

After a self-guided walking tour yesterday of the Lower East Side with a friend (can you say Pickle Guys and Doughnut Plant?) I had a tiny window of time to scope out some birds in Prospect Park before picking the kids up from school. The sky was as clear and blue as I've ever seen it, and the brightness of the afternoon sun made it necessary to get "on the other side of the bird" with the sun at my back to get a good view. For the half-hour I was there, I had a pretty good time. (Gross understatement. I am at my happiest when looking at awesome birds.)

Almost immediately in my trek across the area that overlooks the ballfields, I spotted a yellow-rumped warbler hanging around a big tree that seemed to be hosting many tiny birds. To my absolute delight, they turned out to be golden-crowned kinglets, my very first ones. They are absolutely as beautiful as I dreamed they would be. Later, near the parking lot of Litchfield Villa, I encountered a group of white-throated sparrows kicking up leaf litter. White-crowned and tan-crowned individuals were present. It was cool to see both types at the same time, for comparison. I climbed the stairs up to the villa and turned around to be even with the canopy of a tall tree. Many kinglets and a few warblers zipped around this tree, including a black-and-white warbler and something with a yellow face and olive appearance overall. It was gone too quickly for me to notice much.

Later the kids had soccer practice, so I had an hour to walk around. I stuck to the area around the pools and had a bunch of great sightings. At the wildflower meadow, many elusive flashes of bird came and disappeared into the thickets instantly, but I got a good look at a northern parula. I love that yellow lower mandible. On the Path Between the Pools I found a northern flicker, a blue jay, and a possible tufted titmouse (one can only hope - I love those guys). On the path leading back to the Long Meadow I successfully found a black-throated blue warbler which a fellow birder named Gil clued me in about. On the Long Meadow side in the brush beyond the fence and toward the pools, I hunted down little leaf-crunching noises and rustlings until I found their source - a brilliant common yellowthroat.

This autumn of my birding life is fun in a different way than last autumn. I have a much bigger mental catalog of birds I can identify by sight and sound, so I'm not oohing and aahing blindly every time a house sparrow deigns to look at me. I guess I can afford to be a little more selective and adventurous. That's not to say any of the magic has gone out of it - rather the opposite. The game is just beginning, now that I know how to play!

no, really, i'm still here

2008-10-10T09:18:00.004-04:00

I've had a lot on my mind of late, and haven't been out birding in earnest for a while, as you can guess from the dearth of recent entries. I have, however, seen some great birds quite by accident, including plenty of downy woodpeckers, a brown creeper on an 8th Avenue tree trunk, and a group of ruby-crowned kinglets in the massive evergreen where I work. This weekend Chrissy and I venture to Erie, PA, for a screening of his film, 41. We'll take our time getting there, catching up on some much-needed letterboxing and birdwatching.

Even though I've been preoccupied, I did get a chance to celebrate Hawk Weekend by attending the bird show at the Prospect Park Audubon Center.

I hope to see some awesome stuff this weekend. If you know any places we should stop for birds between NYC and Erie, PA, let me know!

accidental find

2008-09-21T21:22:00.001-04:00

On Friday, I was walking my charge home from school when we noticed something distinctly not sparrow in the lowest branches of a big tree on 8th Avenue. We stood for about a minute, telling each other what we could see about the bird: two white wing bars, bluish grey wings and lower back and face, yellow breast, white belly and under-tail, greenish-yellow upper back, white around dark eyes, tiny sharp beak. The little fellow (the bird, not the boy) swung around the thin branches nimbly in search of better purchase, coming within five feet of my face. We looked it up in my field guide upon arriving at home, and I think we had a first-year female northern parula on our hands. I have to commend the kid's school for last year's field-trip-ridden science unit on birdwatching -- it's given him the vocabulary to talk about birds and it's given me a chance to share the source of my daily joy.

good times at Prospect Park

2008-09-20T21:44:00.003-04:00

Today I volunteered at Prospect Park Lake for International Coastal Cleanup Day. While I was very busy cleaning up the lakeshore, I had my eyes open for birds and trash and I kept a mental list. Of note: a hummingbird at some jewelweed bushes; a pair of pants; the juvenile mute swan looking hale and hearty; a sock filled with something brown, unscented, and gelatinous; the first American coots of the season; a bloated raccoon corpse; a beautiful seashell; drug paraphernalia; a coconut; and an unbelievable number of plastic bottles and bags. I had a great time meeting people and working toward a common goal, especially one that helps the animals and park I love so well.

The next cleanup, which I'm hoping to attend, is scheduled for October 18 to prepare Lookout Hill for the Halloween Haunted Walk & Carnival. Also, this coming weekend, September 27 & 28, is Hawk Weekend. I was too shy and too new a birder to feel comfortable participating last year, but this time around I'm really excited to see what Hawk Weekend is all about. I suspect the event will be largely for children, but I'm interested in seeing the bird show, at the very least. There's so much I can learn!

and for a fleeting moment, there passed between them a faint sense of some common destiny

2008-09-18T22:23:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I walked through the park on my way to work, but didn't have my binocs or time to scan my surroundings for birds. I hesitated between the Nethermead and the steep hill to the Long Meadow because I yearned for a few extra minutes to sneak into the horse path to look for warblers. Just as I resolved to ignore the wonderful possibilities and just go to my job, a buzzing speck of green shot past me, hovered over a bush, and zipped into the woods. My flesh thrilled with goosebumps of recognition and elation: the hummingbird I had asked the universe for on my birthday had appeared! Though it was a brief and distant encounter, I thanked life, the universe, and everything for conspiring to deliver my belated birthday present.

Fast forward about twenty-four hours.

This afternoon I traipsed into Prospect Park to sniff out some migrants. The air was sun-filled and warm with a cool breeze - one of my favorite kinds of weather. I hit a few of my usual spots and found a few of my usual birds: blue jay, cardinal, robin. I could see very little from my perch on the Path Between the Pools, but the moment I asked for an ovenbird, one appeared right in front of me. I think having a sense of what to ask for, you know, things that are possible, not outlandish or selfish, really helps. I decided to haunt the area where yesterday I briefly met the green speck. Was I ever in luck! I spotted a little buzzer among the jewelweed flowers, quickly got on the bird, and enjoyed thoroughly my first live close-up of a ruby-throated hummingbird - female. About ten seconds into the great view, I heard the scream of red-tailed hawks above and nearby. Stupidly I wheeled around, just in time to spot three of them heading out over the Nethermead in search of an afternoon snack. Blessedly, the hummingbird lingered long enough for me to observe her again, this time for a minute or more, as she paused deliberately at the tiny orange flowers to glean their sweet nectar. Soon she zoomed up and up and over the trees, out of sight. The combination of my first great hummingbird sighting and the three red-tails in the late summer sun qualifies as the best birding minute of my life so far -- must leave room for more wonders!

happy bird-day to me

2008-09-17T10:41:00.009-04:00

My mom was in town this past weekend for a date with me at a rained-out Yankees game on Friday and to celebrate my 25th birthday on Saturday. Since it was so hot on Saturday, Chrissy and I took her to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge, where I was sure there'd be a sea breeze. She enjoyed our trip to the salt marsh at Marine Park, and I couldn't think of a lovelier thing to do on my birthday than share a place I love with a person I love.

But, boy, was I wrong about the sea breeze! It was perhaps even hotter there because there's very little shade. It was also early afternoon, not the best time for birds. But we saw the ospreys on their platform nest, plenty of Canada geese, a pair of snow geese, lots of gulls, two black-crowned night herons, and several very long-necked great blue herons.

The tide was out while we walked around the West Pond, and there were tons of birds out on the mudflats, too far to see any details. The frustration rekindled that old, familiar desire to have my own spotting scope for occasions and locations such as this. I'd love to have your recommendations, reviews, and warnings for/against certain brands/models in the <$1000 range.

At Blind Pond, the water level was extremely low, and therefore, not very attractive to birds. I did, however, see one new life-bird on my birthday: a northern waterthrush gleaning what it could from the pathetic puddle. I didn't get a good photo of the bird, but just a foot in front of the blind basked this gorgeous caterpillar:

And, as a treat just for you, here is a photo of one of Mother Earth's natural color palettes:

Stuff Happens

2008-09-17T08:08:00.000-04:00

Something that's been an absolute treat for me lately is a new show on Planet Green called Stuff Happens, hosted by everyone's favorite science guy, Bill Nye. It's the most interesting new non-fiction program I've seen since the debut of MythBusters, and that is saying something. Stuff Happens teaches me where all the things I use come from, how their production, use, and disposal affect the planet, and how I can help. I highly recommend it for you and your family.

Ambushed!

2008-09-15T10:47:00.002-04:00

One day last week I lit out for work, traveling a parkless route because I knew I wouldn't have time to stop and enjoy all details of nature around me. Well, Nature was having none of that; if I wouldn't come to her, she would come to me. I saw three neat things on my walk:

1. A fluff-feathered, or maybe weathered, mockingbird atop a hedge, doing a dance I've seen before. It stretched out its wings slightly, and then moved them slowly thus: up, further up, down. Up, further up, down. With the white wing patches, perhaps it's some sort of mockingbird semaphore.

2. A monarch butterfly wafting across an intersection in the crosswalk during the WALK signal. I swear, animals are smarter than people.

3. At the park's outer edge, a black-and-white warbler hopping about on the ground. I'd only ever seen them in more protected areas, so it was odd to watch the little guy act more like a house sparrow on the sidewalk than a nuthatch on a tree trunk. It foraged under the watchful gaze of a nearby rat.

Because I could not stop for Nature, she kindly stopped for me!

little observations

2008-09-11T11:47:00.000-04:00

Sunday, September 7

Sunday is Project Day in our family. Chrissy gets to work on his home video collection and screenplays, and I get to enjoy my interests - birding, writing, reading, cooking. So this afternoon I went to Prospect Park in the post-Hanna gorgeous weather for a bird-walk. I was greeted at the Lake by a red-winged blackbird, the first I've seen in a month or more.

Hanna knocked down a few branches here and there, but I didn't see any terrible damage. I did see a young man harvesting green gingko nuts from a fallen branch. I have held my breath many times when passing the fallen ripe orange nuts on the sidewalk, so I asked what he intended to do with them. A woman on a nearby bench told me that the inner nut is good for the memory and can be eaten fresh or dried. She also told me that to make gingko tea, it's best to boil the tree's leaves in springtime, before the air pollution has a chance to ruin them. I thanked the woman and said goodbye, heading off to admire the massive numbers of Canada geese on the Lake.

I have a new favorite spot to search for migrating warblers - right off Wellhouse Drive on the Peninsula is a thick stand of young trees and ferns and other flora. I have seen brief glimpses of warblers zipping from branch to branch here while catbirds try to ward me off with their constant mewing.

By the time I got deep into the Lullwater Trail, the sunlight was no longer reaching over the tops of the trees. That is not to say it was getting dark, just that there was a demarcation in the air, due to the position of the sun, between what was in the sunlight and what wasn't. This led to a few thrilling moments when, from my place on the shaded ground, I saw several red blasts of bird flap by over the treeline. I was no less thrilled when I finally realized they were robins hitting the sunlight just right, because I guess it's become easy to take robins for granted and I appreciate a reminder of their beauty and worth.

I was just about home when I heard the telltale signs of the nightly Canada goose flyover. Every evening, or many evenings, I see one or two groups of about fifteen geese fly over my apartment building in the direction of Green-Wood Cemetery. This night, I paused and stared, dumbfounded, for the group of geese coming into and flying out of my view was enormous. They attempted a V-shape, but it was very messy. After a full fifteen seconds, the last bird flew out of sight, leading me to estimate about eighty birds in the flock. It could be more. Perhaps they're heading a little further than Green-Wood after all.

light in August

2008-09-02T21:50:00.007-04:00

My vacation is over, but, simply by virtue of having enjoyed much of it outdoors, certainly well spent. Some of these recent days I wish I could fix and fasten to my heart, to carry with me the elation and the delicious languor and the simultaneous bounty and dearth that have characterized August for me this year.

Monday, August 25
Something felt markedly different in Prospect Park today. I couldn't pinpoint it as the weather or the light, maybe something different in the air. It was humid and in the upper 80s, but it felt so much not summer: the trees are beginning to exhale, to relax a little from showing off their green all year. It sounded different today, too. The still air gave the trees respite from their graceful waving; few birds sang. The new brood of starlings clicked and chittered, adding percussion to an otherwise expectant quietude. Branches voluntarily dropped their seedpods, berries, and nuts onto the leaf litter below, Mother Nature tapping out endless mysteries on the telegraph of the earth.

My stroll began on the west shore of the Lake, where I found my feet surrounded and tumbled over by ground-clouds made of thousands of little downy feathers. It seems the mallards are in their eclipse plumage, which, while not as showy as the breeding plumage, I find to be quite as beautiful: a deep brown tinged with rust. That would explain all the feather-clouds, at least. On the Lake I found the usual Canada geese and mallards and their cohorts, with one addition by the lakeside: a spotted sandpiper. I watched it tiptoe around the much larger geese and occasionally hang back behind a small bush. I noticed it had a feather wrapped around one ankle; perhaps it was on house arrest?

I walked up Wellhouse Drive to sit by the Wellhouse, where I had a great view of a puddle and treetops full of activity. At least three times while I sat here, and it was only about fifteen minutes, I heard a child say, "What is that lady doing?" Am I a lady now? Weird! The puddle attracted such fine species as gray catbird, American robin, and a young Baltimore oriole. In this area's trees I also saw a downy woodpecker, a black and white warbler, and some American goldfinches. As I got up to continue my journey, I scanned the treetops one last time, only to find an orange spot that hadn't been there before. A beautiful adult male Baltimore gave me just a moment of his time before flying off.

As I crossed the Terrace Bridge to take the secret path down to the Lullwater, I felt the watchful gaze of an eastern kingbird standing sentinel on the tallest branch of the barest tree. When I later crossed the Lullwater Bridge, I knew I was in for a treat if only I could find the source of the nasal peek I was hearing. In a not-too-big pine tree at the end of the bridge, I found a great big male hairy woodpecker. I see downies all the time, so it's a treat to see one of these fellows once in a while.

I made my way to the path behind the pools by crossing the Nethermead and climbing that short, steep path. Sometimes I walk backwards up the hill to make my leg muscles confused. I've been surprised lately at the complete lack of red-tailed hawk sounds in Prospect Park. No flyovers, either. Perhaps I'm just out at the wrong time of day, or perhaps they're busy making preparations for autumn. When I reached the path behind the pools - that sounds like a chapter in The Magician's Nephew called "The Wood Between the Worlds" - I stopped at my usual viewing spot. It's an area where the plants don't block the view across the pool, but where I can use the shade of a tall tree to block the sun and rest my arms on the fence while I hunt for birds. I watched cedar waxwings take off from thin branches on the island, whirl and twist in the air, and land again with bug in beak. It's funny to think that while I have a favorite perch from which to scout them, they have a favorite perch from which to scout bugs. Paddling in the shadows of the island were a pair of young wood ducks. I wonder how long they'll stay.

Thursday, August 28
I had books on hold at the Central Library, so I took a nice, long walk with the birds on my way to pick them up. The second I left my apartment building, I heard the mechanical rattle of monk parakeets, and I looked up in time to see a pair zoom by in the direction of Green-Wood Cemetery. I have seen monk parakeets at Brooklyn College, at the feeders on Ocean Parkway and Ditmas Avenue, at a cemetery in Connecticut, and at Green-Wood, but nowhere else. It just struck me as funny that to see an exotic bird all I had to do was go outside.

At the west shore of the Lake, there's a little area made into a sheltered cove by the reeds on the left and the West Island to the right. Sometimes I stop here briefly, and sometimes longer if the benches are unoccupied. Though a few families and their children sat chatting, I stayed to watch two green herons in a tree on the West Island and two double-crested cormorants, one swimming and one sunning.

I ventured to the Path Behind the Pools (it will remain capitalized now that the C.S. Lewis bug has bitten me) to check up on my friends the waxwings. They were active in the afternoon sun, accomplishing daring feats of acrobatics just to get a little lunch. The wood ducks made a brief, if shadowy, appearance. A casual birding couple visited my viewing spot, and I helped them identify the waxwings, a black and white warbler, a downy woodpecker and a young or female American redstart. On my way home from the library, I had a lot of heavy books, so I just observed nature with the naked eye. The second I got back to my block, four or five monk parakeets sped by, crank-ing loudly. Strange that they bookended my day.

Friday, August 29
I went for a walk unarmed in terms of equipment. I really just wanted to get some exercise. But up on Lookout Hill, the birds are just begging to be seen. I climbed the steps and walked the path, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something flit quickly to a closer branch. I'm glad I bothered to take one step backward, slowly, to see what it was: a male American redstart, which I haven't seen since spring! The sense of triumph carried me the rest of the way up the hill. I walked around the top wildflower garden, and made my way around the lower one, noticing how very quiet the air was. Usually I'd hear robins and cardinals and maybe chickadees here, but no sounds today. Boy, was I surprised then, when I accidentally flushed about 30 American goldfinches up into the trees! Then, then there was noise.

After having been in Maine and Rhode Island for the past three weekends, the idea of being home in Brooklyn for at least the next three weekends sounds good. I'm hoping to get out to Jamaica Bay this weekend, or maybe next weekend when my mom visits. In any case, I'm nearly ready for it to be autumn, because now I'm a full year into this birding thing, and don't we always miss the part of the year that is furthest behind us? I'm interested to remember what fall birding is like and to experience it in a much less blind and stumbling way than last year. I'm so glad to have been born and brought up in a part of the world where I can see and feel the change of seasons. I could never live somewhere that didn't make me grateful for the current moment and the moments promised to me by the advent of spring, summer, fall, and winter. It is the advent of things new that gives us adventure.

vacation week 2

2008-08-27T09:52:00.015-04:00

I traveled a lot last week. From my current home in New York to my childhood home in Rhode Island to vacation in Maine to my in-laws' in RI and back to Brooklyn. I had a great time with my family, revisiting last year's hotel at Old Orchard Beach. We spent time at the seashore, a lot of time at a huge and gorgeous salt marsh, and a little time in the woods. I didn't see a whole lot of birds, but I got to share some good birding time with my youngest sister. The first morning we woke up there, my dad called me from the next room at 4:45 a.m. My youngest sister Katherine, my dad, and I pulled our clothes on for some early fishing (and for me, birding). I've never gotten up with or before the sun to see the birds, because generally I'd be alone in the park in the dark if I did so, and that's a pretty early wake-time for me. So it was a great opportunity. We drove around looking for bait shops, got eaten alive by mosquitoes, and watched the sunrise. Dad didn't catch anything that morning, but I did see a semipalmated plover running up and down the slope of the beach. Here's a nice shot of my dad and the sunrise:

When Dad got tired of being bitten by mosquitoes, we drove to a small bird observation platform by the side of the road. Katherine came with me and I got to show her some really neat birds - belted kingfishers, American goldfinches, cedar waxwings, great egrets. What amazed me about early birding is the ease with which we found birds; a good number of species that would take me about an hour or two to match in the afternoon we were able to find in about fifteen minutes. Also, I think Katherine is slowly becoming interested in birds, so I may have a pretty reliable bird-friend when we're together. Here's a shot of the new morning sky reflected on still marshwater; it looks almost exactly the same if you turn it upside down.

Later that day, we went to the Scarborough Wildlife Management Area for fishing, birding, and a walk on part of the extensive East Coast Greenway. The colors of the landscape here were simple and vibrant. Blue, green, white.

I could see no osprey nests and that seemed strange to me. Here I saw crows, cormorants, egrets, herons, goldfinches, and a few small flocks of some kind of sandpiper. Here are my notes: flocking birds, white under, beautiful patterned brown + rust on wings and back. Lighter face and throat, resuming pattern on head. Light eye stripe, dark eye. Dark beak as long as head. Yellow legs. Buffy speckled breast. > Sandpiper! What kind?? It was hard to get a good photo; I just wanted something to look back on when I consulted my field guide. Now I know that the differences between some sandpiper species are very subtle.

We visited that marsh again later on the trip for the beauty and the fishing. My dad didn't catch anything for the whole vacation. Well, a crab, once. All the Maine fishermen he chatted with told him the best fishing they ever did was in Rhode Island, where he lives! My dad came to the conclusion that there are no fish in Maine, because all the stories the Maine fishermen told were about their grandfathers' big catches and nothing more recent than that. I was starting to believe him when I spotted what I at first thought was a gull over the marsh, but upon closer inspection realized was an osprey. I thought, "Well, there must be fish after all!" The bird flew quickly out of sight and I didn't see another osprey the whole trip.

We also did some letterboxing on this adventure, which took us to Fuller Farm. As we came down a hill close to the entrance, a biker coming up the hill motioned us to slow down. My first thought was speed trap, but imagine my delight and amazement when this showed up in the road:
Katherine, who has no fears about animals, wanted to just pick it up and move it to the other side. My mom, who is practical and wise, forbade her. I imagine that turtle would be a lot heavier than it looks. Also, animals can move fast when scared, and that guy had some pretty serious claws. We stuck around to make sure it didn't get squashed by cars as it crossed the road.

Fuller Farm is a big tract of land encompassing several types of habitat, including open fields, wildflower meadows, and forests. It was a scenic hike to get the letterbox, and here are some things Chrissy and I saw along the way.

This awesome butterfly, which looks like it belongs in the fritillary subfamily:

A tiny toad I found in a big forest:

At the carnival at Old Orchard Beach, a lot of these guys hang around, looking for junk food handouts...herring gulls?

We spent our last day at Two Lights State Park, searching the tide pools, climbing the rocks, eating various berries. I saw a raft of brown sea ducks with barred plumage -- common eiders, I think. Cormorants and gulls flew by, a solitary crow perched on a dead limb. A few sandpipers hopped and ran on the rocks. Not much bird activity otherwise. But it's a gorgeous landscape.

By Saturday we were back in Rhode Island, gearing up for my grandmother's homemade clamcakes and Manhattan clam chowder. What a treat! We played bocce and jai alai and sat and visited outside for several hours, over the course of which we saw several red-tailed hawks and a turkey vulture. The hawks gave us a good show, flying directly over the house and seeming to pause for our admiration.

That about wraps it up. I did promise you more freckles, and here they are in a "serious-face" photo taken by my sister Bethy:

vacation week 1 wrap-up

2008-08-15T12:22:00.005-04:00

Well, in a few hours we're off to Rhode Island for a day before our trip to Maine. I can't wait for sun and sand, birds and letterboxes, and spending time with my parents and sisters. I should have considerably more freckles when I return. But I can't leave you without sharing this week's adventures in Prospect Park!

Monday, August 11
I spent a few minutes on the Terrace Bridge, overlooking the Lullwater in the direction of the boathouse. Here I saw a pair of eastern kingbirds being vying for dominance with s pair of birds with yellow breast and belly, dark eye and dark longish beak on a dusky yellow head, and black wings with white wing bars. I didn't really know what they were until I looked closely at the beak, which seemed distinctly oriole-like in shape. A glance at my guide later confirmed a pair of juvenile Baltimore orioles. I also saw two green herons perched on a fallen branch over the Lullwater. That's the spot I usually see a black-crowned night heron, so the greens were a nice surprise.

Tuesday, August 12
I've begun making Lookout Hill part of my regular routine. I love the reward of the two wildflower meadows after huffing and puffing my asthmatic self up that big hill. On my way up, I was enveloped briefly in birdsong by several young and ruffled black-capped chickadees and more young Baltimores. In the wild meadows above, many butterflies, a few wrens, and several American goldfinches made merry. Here is a butterfly that looks surprisingly like a leaf. Later, on the bridle path at the foot of Quaker Hill, I found an American restart, but a female or first-summer male, I'm not sure. I had great luck at the back of the Upper Pool in finding cedar waxwings. I also tracked down something that I knew would be a northern flicker once I found it; that white rump in flight always gives me a thrill. The two green herons were present again at the fallen log. I watched a good-sized turtle bask on a rock, extending one hind leg parallel to the water for a very long time. I have no idea why the turtle did that. Turtle yoga?

Wednesday, August 13
I saw a lot of the same species as earlier in the week, with a few additions. Behind the Upper Pool I spotted a tiny black-and-white warbler creeping up a tree trunk, then another, and another. These guys were all over the place. It seemed like the feather coloration was incomplete, but from the pattern of the stripes and the pattern of their movement, I'm fairly sure they were black-and-whites. At the rustic shelter on the Lullwater, I watched the green herons fly from their usual perch to a tree branch across the stream. I saw a black-crowned night heron in that tree as well. Then, at the boathouse, I found more ducklings! A mom with two little ones, to be exact.

All week I've been visiting this one area of the Lullwater in an attempt to recreate a lost moment. Sometime last week I saw a hummingbird pause at a red flower for about four seconds. I thought at first that it was a large insect, until I saw its long, thin beak in profile. It took me too long to register what I was seeing, and I was so stunned that I missed the moment to raise my binoculars and the bird was gone. It was only the third hummingbird I've seen in my life, and two of those sightings were before I became a birder. I'll see it well someday.

It was also a great week for hearing and seeing red-tailed hawks. Everywhere I went in the park, I could hear them screaming from high above. That's good, though, because it makes them much easier to find. I spent part of one afternoon sprawled on the shaded hillside of the Long Meadow, using my backpack as a pillow, and gazing through my binocs as the two hawks squealed and wheeled, higher and higher over Quaker Hill, with the occasional fast downward swoop. The screams I've heard mostly still sound like juvenile screams, but once I did hear the high keeeee-errrrrr of an adult.

I don't know if I'll have internet access while I'm gone, so you may hear nothing from me for a while, or if I'm lucky, you may get a few short updates. And now it is time to pack!

the heart of summer

2008-08-13T10:01:00.019-04:00

I am smack-dab in the middle of my first of three glorious weeks of vacation from work. Week 1 I am spending in and around Brooklyn, adventuring my socks off. I've got plenty of time to myself to explore and notice the small things, too, because this is also Chrissy's first week of work at his real, in-his-field, two-master's degrees, 9-5 kind of job. We'll be vacationing with my family in Old Orchard Beach, ME, from August 18-22, sandwiched between several days in Rhode Island. My binoculars and I are going to be seeing some awesome things in the next few weeks.

But before that, I've got a little catching up to do with you, my friends.

Here's a nice shot I got on a recent free Tuesday adventure to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Not too much bird action when I went, but the insects (and children running through sprinklers) were certainly enjoying themselves.

As an aside: I am slowly coming to know and correct some of the weird misconceptions I developed about insects over the course of my life. For example, somehow I got it into my head that honeybees sting and bumblebees don't. But I read recently that honeybees sting once and then they die, but bumblebees sting multiple times and don't die! Also the more time I spend around dragonflies, the more I realize that I was terrified of them as a child. I'm very comfortable now, but something about them was scary. Maybe the name "darning needle" evoked a fear of being stabbed or bitten? No. I remember now. The fear was that a darning needle would sew my lips together. What crazy ideas get into kids' heads!

The ducklings of Prospect Park are pretty much all grown up. I took this photo almost two weeks ago, and when I saw the family yesterday, the three young ones' feathers appeared to have completed their transformation. The ducks look like their mother now, just slightly smaller overall and with shorter necks.

And the juvenile swan is growing fast as well. I saw it yesterday and it seemed huge. This photo is about two weeks old as well. I like the composition of this one.

I don't remember which gorgeous August afternoon it was that I encountered this delicious-looking grub. Rob Jett turned me on to BugGuide, which I think will come in pretty handy. After a bit of browsing the many photos, I think this caterpillar is in the sphinx moth family. I give one photo for an idea of scale and one for detail.

August 7th marked our fourth wedding anniversary, and we spent it walking on Plumb Beach and scooting from there to Floyd Bennett Field and back on the bike path. Even though Plumb Beach is riddled with garbage, the place holds some kind of magic for me. It stimulates my imagination in a way that few things do, brings me back to my childhood and early teens, playing in the yard with my sisters with stuff we found. I think that's what it is; there's so much stuff to find at Plumb Beach that my imagination kicks into gear, saying things like, "Well, this jug and this tin can and this fan blade could be made into some sort of water purification system, and what can I use these tubes for? Oh, and I'll need to find something like a tarp to make a shelter. Oh, wow, a ladder, what luck!" Well, now you know a lot more about me than I intended to share. I absolutely love to imagine. Don't get me started on all those abandoned boats!

Anyway, back to the beach. The shore was heavily dotted with semi-palmated plovers. Lots of common terns around too, and a few laughing gulls. It was no use trying to get a good shot of the plovers; they escaped quickly when approached and the wind prevented me from getting a steady shot through my binocs. But, here are some other neat things we found:

a crab whose attempts to reenter the water were rebuffed by the relentless waves

a washed-up jellyfish

a snail stuck to the wall

We ate our picnic lunch on a partially shaded bench under a tree, with our feet resting comfortably on a well-placed log. After a while I felt something on my shin, looked briefly, and shook my leg like hell. I didn't know anything about praying mantises at the time, so I was a little freaked out, especially because the little bugger kept trying to get back on my leg, even after I stood up and walked a few feet away. It seemed like it was gauging the distance between its perch and my leg.

On Saturday, we encountered this mantis at Snug Harbor on Staten Island. I'm glad my first encounter with a mantis was a normal-sized one.

Also at Snug Harbor, a great big butterfly in the hedge maze, an eastern tiger swallowtail, I think

a path to make anyone feel like Mary Lennox about to uncover a forgotten garden

If you've never been to Snug Harbor, I definitely recommend a day trip there. It's a great time of year to go, while everything's bright and colorful. I'll leave you with a photo of my favorite part of this gorgeous property, where I saw a female belted kingfisher scanning the pond and a pair of American goldfinches releasing white puffs from the bulbs of some purple flowers.

I'll have more soon about this week's adventures in Prospect Park!

random recent birds and non-birds

2008-08-02T14:37:00.007-04:00

A whole afternoon to myself and what happens? Severe thunderstorms, of course. So on this lazy Saturday afternoon, since I haven't got a new adventure to detail, I'll share with you some recent photographs of stuff I've seen in Brooklyn and environs.

Here's a bird I "spotted" at the edge of the Reservoir in Central Park. It had lots of spots on its front, and seemed most like a spotted sandpiper of all the sandpipers in my field guide.

This here bird is a mystery to me. It seemed very young, and I think it had small flappy wings that wouldn't yet support flight. My original guess was maybe a juvenile cormorant, but I grew less confident in that the more I looked at picture online of verified juvenile cormorants. This bird was alone swimming and resting at the edge of the Reservoir in Central Park.

Here's a friend I found on my second trip to the salt marsh at Marine Park - a monarch readying for a snack of clover nectar.

When I pass through the Long Meadow in Prospect Park on my way to work, there's a good chance I'll see an interesting insect, just because it's usually sunny and very warm at that time of day. Here's a lovely beetle. I know there are more than 350,000 types of beetles and something like 25,000 of in North America alone, and I haven't found this one in a field guide yet. I love the challenge of a real stumper.

Next we have another lovely entry in the butterfly category. I spotted this one on a sign near Boulder Bridge in Prospect Park.

This little guy Chrissy pointed out to me while pumping gas on Coney Island Avenue late at night. It was about an inch long and very fuzzy.

This is another beetle I found while crossing the Long Meadow - a Japanese beetle, I think. I can't get over how shiny it is. The golden spots at the edge (which I learned from a field guide are not solid spots but little hairs) remind me of something I learned at the Butterfly Conservatory at the American Museum of Natural History. Some of the caterpillars, when making their green chrysalides, adorned the edges with shiny golden droplets, in the attempt to deter birds from eating them. I wonder if this beetle's design serves a similar purpose.

And this is the gorgeous underside of an eastern painted turtle. Chrissy pointed out the turtle to me on the path that enters the Long Meadow between the wildflower meadow and the Upper Pool. We watched it flip itself over accidentally while trying to squeeze through a space in the fence that was much too small to accommodate its shell. At first I was a little alarmed and thought I should help it right itself, but I decided to give it time. It turned itself over easily and resumed plowing into the fence.

Would you look at that? The sun came out! Seeya!

family ties

2008-07-30T21:31:00.004-04:00

On Monday, I got out of work pretty early, and spent the extra time birding in Prospect Park. I made my way over to the Vale of Cashmere, which is so beautiful but I always wish it felt safer. There I listened in on several conversations between adult cardinals and their juveniles. I made my way through Rick's Place and saw a a few young and speckled American robins doing their duck-and-runs across the path.

I've been checking up on the swan family fairly regularly, too. They're down to one cygnet from the original three, which is now about half the size of its parent. It is still very grey with a dark bill and little dumb flappy wings. There's also been a Canada goose family on the Upper Pool - two parents and either a late-born gosling or maybe a second brood of the season. The gosling is now about half the size of its parents and has acquired almost all of its adult coloring.

On the Lullwater in front of the Boathouse, I saw one big speck and three adorable little specks breaking up the constant green of the duckweed - mallard ducklings and their mama! I don't know if ducks just hatch later than geese or if this family is kind of a fluke at this time of year, but I am really happy to see them in Prospect Park. One of the ducklings tried valiantly to catch a small, bouncing insect in its bill, but eventually gave up and chomped on the green stuff instead. When I finally tracked them down on Tuesday, one of the ducklings was missing, perhaps having fallen prey to a predator such as the grey and white cat I saw across the Lullwater. I intend to check up on this duck family whenever I have the time so I can watch whichever ducklings survive grow and change.

I'm fascinated by duckweed. One of the kids I care for told me that on a field trip to the park, she learned that once a year someone rides his or her bike right into the water outside the Boathouse, thinking it's a big lawn. I hope I see that someday. The duckweed gives the water such a strange quality, like the skin on top of a cooled pudding. It makes the surface of the water look almost solid, and the water barely ripples when disturbed. Any spaces in the duckweed made by a tossed stone or a passing duck quickly close up again, leaving no path or interruption in the pattern of tiny plants. It also gives off a Rice Krispies sort of sound; snaps and crackles add up to an almost constant low hiss. I think it's caused by air bubbles trying to escape through the small space between duckweeds. It could also be lots of minute insects landing and alighting again, too small to see but not so insignificant as to be silent.

On a side note, something at the Park Circle entrance of the park has made the air smell strongly of cloves for the past week. I wonder if it is the nearby trees. Any ideas?

salt marsh, take 2

2008-07-30T21:04:00.004-04:00

Last weekend my family drove in from Rhode Island for a visit, and on Saturday afternoon I was able to drag/convince/trick my mom and youngest sister into going for a walk at the Marine Park salt marsh because of the "cool sea breeze". It was really nice to take them to a place where I feel a deep and personal sense of peace/joy and to share with them the experience of seeing birds. And the good birds came out to flaunt their stuff for my loved ones, which made me feel pretty cool, as though perhaps I haven't chosen the nerdiest possible hobby. We saw a lot of great egrets, one of which was edged out of its fishing territory by a great blue heron coming in for a landing. We also saw a green heron standing very still on a piling, lots of laughing gulls, and two or three birds that may have been yellowlegs(es). How do you pluralize that? But the real excitement started when Chrissy spotted a black skimmer, and then another, until four of them were flying over the water in this one small area near the nature center. It was my first time seeing that action for which these birds are named; beaks open, they zoom really low with their lower mandibles dipped in the water. I saw one come up from skimming posture with a thin worm-like thing in its mouth. The bird didn't eat it or put it down right away, and my sister suggested it might be using the worm to bait bigger fish. Doubtful, but a neat idea. I didn't get any good bird pictures, but I got fresh air, exercise, quality time with my loved ones, and a couple of great sky shots.

love at the Salt Marsh

2008-07-21T14:03:00.009-04:00

Chrissy and I took a field trip to the Salt Marsh Nature Center at Marine Park yesterday. Though it was a very hot and humid day, we were quite comfortable in the strong salt wind and sunshine. It wasn't a very birdful outing, but I had a few great experiences and got some neat photos, which I will share with you here.

We spent a lot of time watching the wind wave through the tall cordgrass and reeds. Until yesterday I never thought of wind as having a shape. It reminded me of something I used to think about a lot as a child; I always wanted to follow just one drop of water down the street-side streams after a rain. But once it falls in with thousands of other drops, you can't find it, you can't really estimate how fast the contents of that one drop move down the stream, you can't reach in and grab it and have it be the same drop it was. Watching the reeds bend in the stream of wind and gathering the shape of the wind from the pattern of bending isn't really like that at all, but it brought up in me the same feelings of wonder and my own small place in this grand life that I had when I pondered such things as a child. Here's a picture of the landscape, alternately caressed and throttled by wind:

Chrissy had a session with a medium recently who basically told him that the universe conspires to give us what we need, if only we know how to ask for it. I've been trying that out in very specific ways, with some success. Yesterday I told the universe I would really like to see a beautiful butterfly. I then amended my request and asked to see one I've never encountered before. About ten minutes later, I came across this:
The top butterfly flew over to the reeds near me carrying this other butterfly upside down. At first I thought the one being carried was dead, because it didn't move at all and its front legs looked perhaps damaged. As it turns out, the monarchs were just mating in the beautiful weather. Occasionally the top butterfly fanned its wings open for a second, but it was mostly content to perch just as you see in the photo. Soon it flew off into the grass and I lost track of it. I had no idea my second request was about to be realized. Chrissy said, "Ooh, Leah, look at this pretty butterfly!" and I made him point it out to me because I couldn't find it on my own - these eyes are trained for birds, after all. Anyway, here's my second miracle:
I think it is a black swallowtail. I remember having a distinct and fleeting thought that "this is the red-winged blackbird of butterflies". I believe in evolution, but I believe in a benevolent creator/universe as well, and it just amazes me sometimes that anything natural can ever have come to be so breathtakingly beautiful. It gives me pause to ponder happily the purpose of beauty.

Gerritsen Creek was rife with humans enjoying the water - boats anchored with people tanning onboard, people on jet-skis, people canoeing, people wading. What a way to keep the birds out! I had been so excited to find a place similar to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge, but only half as far from home, until I realized the salt marsh mustn't be as legally protected if so much loud and disruptive human activity is allowed. I saw lots of laughing gulls (new for me) with the lovely black breeding hoods, many starlings, a duck far off, a snowy egret (also new) showing off his black legs and yellow feet, the silhouette and waxen wingtips of a cedar waxwing, and a great egret hunting fish from an ancient piling.

The butterflies and the atmosphere created by the weather and the landscape were absolutely the highlights of this trip. Though I know birds are my first love (on par with words, now? Where will it end?), I feel myself growing curiouser and curiouser about insects and animals and rocks and weather. So when I'm "birdwatching" these days, I really have my eyes and heart open for any natural wonder. What an apt phrase that is - natural wonder. I have wonder for nature in the most literal sense, and my life is enriched and blessed for it all the more each day.

joys at Jamaica Bay

2008-07-08T23:18:00.004-04:00

The forecast projected a hot day, and I had plenty of time before work, so Chrissy and I headed down to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge for some cool sea air and good birding. I haven't been there since the beginning of April, which is really a shame, but that's how it goes. This outing was the first time I've been to Jamaica Bay when it was all green and not brown. Like Fern Gully. We took the path around the West pond, like usual. Someday we'll do the East Pond path - maybe a day when I don't have to be anywhere else. The West Pond path is covered in gravel - nice, loud gravel that's great for scaring away birds. After a few hundred yards, the gravel gets finer and therefore quieter to walk upon. We stopped at the osprey nest to see who was home - two ospreys, as luck would have it. One big, dark one, and one smaller, not-so-dark one, I think. As we drove into the parking lot at the visitor center I had seen a huge dark bird flying toward the pond. I caught a glimpse of its white head markings and knew it was an osprey - but WOW those things are absolutely huge in flight! The only other time I saw a flying osprey was at Caumsett a few weeks ago, but it was far off and I didn't get the close up WOW factor. Loooong wings.

On the West Pond itself I saw a lot of birds. Two days ago, we went out to Crooke's Point at Great Kills on Staten Island and I saw my first terns. I wasn't able to identify them then, so I spent some time reading over the entries and looking at pictures in my various field guides. Fat lot of good that did me! I was surrounded by terns at the West Pond, what seemed like at least two different kinds, maybe three. Many were showing off their slender, angular, tapered wings in flight, which doesn't afford a great view of field marks, and a few were poking about at pond's edge, just a little too far away for me to see anything beyond the black hood and red beak with black tip. Counted among their number, though, I found a really cool dude. And I knew what it was right away because of my recent attempted brush-up on terns and their allies. My very first black skimmer! With its ridiculous underbite, multicolored bill, and stark black-and-white body, I imagine it would have kind of a dumb speaking voice like Beaky Buzzard from Looney Tunes. I didn't get to see it "skimming" the water with its beak, but I really enjoyed seeing this new bird.

Off in the distance on the mudflats/seagrass, I saw something interesting. It was smaller than a great blue heron, but bigger than a black-crowned night heron, and more like the great blue in shape and neck-length. In the bright midday summer sun it appeared to have a dark, shiny blue body and a brilliant purple neck. I couldn't tell much more about it from that far away except that it had long legs. I hope I solve that mystery someday!

On the pond side, I saw what seemed to be a young great blue heron testing out its hunting skills. It looked like it needed some serious practice. The bird was stalking in the shallows, stretching out its wings, and stabbing wildly into the water. I thought hunters were supposed to be stealthy!

As we rounded the western edge of the pond, I got to see ducklings! They were far off, paddling around their mother, and about twice the size of the one I found in the woods in Prospect Park, so not quite as cute. But there they were - five ducklings amidst several kinds of waterbirds. Now I can ease up on my quest to see them, and enjoy them a little less desperately.

Somewhere around bench 10 or 11, at water's edge I spotted three birds - two Canada geese(usual) and one glossy ibis(exciting)! Not to go all Monty Python on you, but seriously, what beautiful plumage!

Soon after that I saw something I didn't recognize. With its contrasting colors - a beautiful grey body and dark head with bright crown and white cheek - the bird was dressed to the nines. I looked it up later to find out it was a yellow-crowned night heron.

At Blind Pond, I actually saw birds. I guess that's what happens when I go there in season. I got a great view of a bright blue tree swallow preening itself on a pointed limb near a nest box. When a drab brown swallow returned to the nest box, the blue one took off, so perhaps they were a pair and the blue guy's guard duty was over. Bathing in Blind Pond was a gray catbird, and something about the same size as the catbird, except fuller in the body. The bird had a lovely, long, dusky red tail, and a stout beak. The body was dull greyish with a tinge of red all over. The bird had been bathing as well, so its feathers were ruffled. It flew off at the catbird's insistence and I did not see it again. Also from the blind I saw a ton of little yellow birds, but no amount of consulting my various field guides satisfies me about which warbler it might have been. They were about 4 inches, maybe 5, and where they were yellow (head, breast, belly, vent) they were VERY yellow. The wings were a dusky grey-green. I think they had yellowish beaks. Very dark eyes, with a ring of even brighter yellow around them, but not spectacles. Any ideas on that one?

My mom and sisters are coming to visit two weekends from now, and I hope to take them to Jamaica Bay, if not for the birds (I'm the lone birder in my family) then for the beautiful surroundings. I always feel so much at peace when I am there, breathing the sea air and feeling the sun on my face.

my life is filled with animal friends

2008-07-07T00:50:00.011-04:00

July 2, 2008, 7:45-8:30 p.m.
The walk home from work was very eventful. I stopped over at the dog beach for about ten minutes to watch some brown swallows doing their nimble acrobatic routines. I stood very still and they whirled around me. I felt like I was in a slow tornado of birds. It was thrilling. Soon I saw some strange duck on the pool. It had a very dark crown and upper face, a vaguely brownish body, an orangey bill and a white spot on its throat. Its body was very short. My only thought was that it could be a juvenile wood duck. When I got home I tried to find pictures online of juvenile wood ducks, and I am fairly certain that's what I saw.

I rounded my usual corner to cut through to the Nethermead and saw a group of people obviously looking at something. I said, "What are you looking at?" and someone replied, "A baby raccoon." I met up with Chrissy at our usual spot and we walked home together, but not before I snapped a shot of this little fellow. I love the proliferation of rabbits in Prospect Park. I see one almost every day.
On the way home, we came to a grove of trees near the Lake where hundreds of fireflies lit up the air, searching the patterns of light for their one perfect mate. Very romantic. Now we walk that way every night.

As the light faded, we made our way around the west side of the Lake. Chrissy said, "What the heck is that?" and pointed to something we had passed. I turned around to inspect the creature. It was some kind of crayfish, like a tiny lobster in the path. The Field Guide to the Natural World of New York City says there are several kinds of local crayfish and they can be found in many freshwater areas. This guy was about six inches long.

I feel absolutely blessed to have so many adventures and to be witness to the wonders and glories of nature close-up and firsthand. What a cool day!

Caumsett State Park, Long Island, NY

2008-07-07T00:10:00.005-04:00

June 29, 2008

We were invited to help some friends with some psychic research at their home on Long Island and stay the weekend. On Sunday, when all the work was done, the friends took Chrissy and me on a hike at Caumsett State Historic Park so I could look for birds. It was a hot day with bright sun, but a nice breeze blew in off the ocean to cool us. I heard a few screeching calls from above and figured I'd soon see a red-tailed hawk. When we came out of the woods to an open sky, I looked up to find not one but three red-tails circling on the currents high above. It's so gratifying to identify something by sound! It makes me feel like I'm really learning and capable of learning even more.

We passed an osprey nest on a very high platform, maybe even as high as one hundred feet. From what I could see there were three ospreys in or around it. Our path took us within what seemed a safe distance (perhaps a hundred yards) from the bottom of the platform's pole, but the screeches of the ospreys above warned us to make a wider arc.
At the top of the big hill, we sat for a long time, with a picnic blanket and wine, chatting about Saturday's research. I had my binocs close at hand the whole time. I have to stay, there's a lot to be said for staying still to see birds. I spotted a swan with her cygnets on a pond far below. I saw the red-tailed hawks soar up, lose height, and disappear behind the trees. But my best sighting that day was of a dark bird of prey coming in off the ocean. Closer inspection told me it was an osprey. I looked again and realized it was carrying prey in its talons. I looked even closer and found it was a big shiny fish! I've seen hawks carrying birds and rodents, but I never saw a bird carry a fish before. What a thrill!

On the way back to the car, I saw red-winged blackbirds, a blue jay, and an eastern kingbird. As we walked along the beach, I tried to get some good shots of the cormorants drying their wings. All in all, a lovely outing!

A little early for Thanksgiving

2008-07-07T00:00:00.002-04:00

June 25, 2008

Look who I saw in Battery Park today! I took this picture from the sidewalk. The turkey was a mere eight feet away. With all those people around, I'd expect it to be skittish, but the bird seemed very comfortable just poking about in the tall grass.

awesome Green-Wood outing

2008-06-21T23:43:00.014-04:00

Today was one of those days where the whole world was at our feet and there was so much to choose from in terms of stuff to do. We skipped the Mermaid Parade in favor of a long walk and picnic at Green-Wood Cemetery. The weekends-only Fort Hamilton Parkway entrance is just a short walk from our apartment, and we'd never made it quite that far into the place.

It's wonderful to find an oasis of near-quietude in the middle of a city. We didn't see another person for nearly an hour and a half! Sometimes the humid air carried strains of the ice cream truck song to us, but the traffic noise was mostly too far away. Beautiful!

Like my first trip to Green-Wood, the loudest birdsong around belonged to the northern mockingbird, and since they were abundant and loud, they were quite easy to find. A nice treat to see them in flight, too, because their bright white wing patches flash in midair.

I had some great sightings today. It was also my first time using my camera through my binoculars, so I have some interesting, if slightly blurry, photos.

The first great sighting happened right after our lunch of tuna sandwiches, oranges, and granola bars. We cleaned up and continued down Fir Avenue, until I spotted a mourning dove with its young offspring in the middle of the road. The young was about half the size of the parent, with the feathers looking untested. The adult took time to regurgitate into the juvenile's mouth several times. It seemed strange to me that this behavior happened outside the nest. The young one walked around just fine, but the parent sensed a threat in our presence and attempted to protect her baby by simply standing in front of it. I changed my viewing angle, she changed her position. I could still see the baby, so it seemed like a pretty ineffective action.

Eventually something spooked the adult and it flew away, leaving the baby unattended in the road. I sneaked closer a little at a time to get a good picture and to try to shoo it out of the road. After a minute, it moved into the grass and we continued our walk.

Chrissy is getting better at hanging back quietly when I'm focused on a bird, but also he's good at helping me find birds to watch. He'll say, "What's that?" about something I haven't even spotted, and then it's a learning experience for both of us. He's a great sidekick.

Later, on a headstone, I saw a pair of chipping sparrows with their bright rufous crowns. I don't see those guys very often, and they're one of the few kinds of sparrows I can identify, so that's why I mention it. I also saw some interesting house sparrow behavior, which included the male pushing his folded wings down and hopping away from the female, who then gave chase with her own little hops. Ah, love!

I knew from reading Rob Jett's The City Birder that the red-tailed hawk's nest is closer the the Fort Hamilton Parkway entrance than the front gate way over at 5th Avenue and 25th Street. But I didn't really have any idea where to look, so I was absolutely delighted when the birds made it really easy for me to find them. Chrissy and I were walking Central Road, I think it was, by this point, hearing lots of alarm calls, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a large brown bird with a brilliant red tail fly about 10 feet off the ground through the lower leaves of a large tree. It seemed like it had landed, because I couldn't see it fly out the other side, so I decided to stalk it and see if I could find it. I made my way carefully around the tree where I thought it might be perched, only to see it take wing from the ground, and this time with something white in its talons, and another hawk by its side!

The birds alit to a tree to the right of the path, where the brilliant-tailed one began de-feathering its pigeon. The other hawk had very light feathers on its face and not so red a tail at all, and hung back on a high perch a few feet away while the larger hawk did the dirty work.

It was at this time that two relentlessly brave northern mockingbirds caught up with the big hawk and began their harassing and haranguing routine. You can see the blur of a mockingbird in this photo. The larger hawk flew to a nearby tree to escape, but the mockers followed. The hawk ignored the mockingbirds squawking and darting at and bouncing off its big red tail repeatedly, intently focused on de-feathering the white pigeon. I could see with my binocs that the prey's eyes had already been gouged out. The whole display was very entertaining, and we watched the mockingbirds dive-bomb and bounce off of the hawk's tail for about fifteen minutes, until the hawk took off for higher ground, in this case a tall evergreen whose limbs were crowded with pine branches and needles. The smaller hawk followed, and the mockingbirds gave up. Perhaps they drove it far enough away from their territory or nest to feel safe. This sighting was so satisfying because of its content, participants, and length. Chrissy and I were fascinated to witness what must be pretty common for these birds' lives, but which seems so amazing to us.

After that, the rest of the day had to be fairly tame. I heard a lot of red-bellied woodpeckers, but could never find them. At the Valley Water, which was covered in lily-pads and other green stuff, I spotted a single double-crested cormorant in the water, swimming and diving about, ruler of the roost.

Perched on a lily-pad across the pond, I saw something shining blue, but it was the wrong shape for a kingfisher like the one I saw at that pond last time. I walked around the pond, greeting the family of Canada geese and their young as I passed, to get a closer look at the mysterious bird. It turned out to be a green heron sitting very still. Its featehrs must have caught the light just so, to make them appear blue. It posed for several photographs, and then we were on our way.

As we climbed a small hill toward the koi pond (which turned out to have been drained) at the community mausoleum, I stepped back for a moment because I saw a new bird. I believe my words were, "What the hell is that?" It was a light rufous color, like a hermit thrush's tail, but all over, and it looked very much like a mockingbird in terms of body shape and tail length, but with a long beak. After a minute my brain came up with a name, which turned out to be correct: my first brown thrasher!

On my next outing to the cemetery, I hope to visit the other glacial ponds, and now that I've got a map, that will be easy. I think I am going to like living between Green-Wood Cemetery and Prospect Park, two Important Birding Areas. I'm also looking forward to getting the hang of using my camera and binoculars together.

the start of a new routine?

2008-06-20T09:54:00.013-04:00

Yesterday I got myself out of the house early enough to take a long, leisurely walk through Prospect Park on my way to work. I've been enjoying taking walks with Chrissy, but yesterday especially because the weather was so perfect and we had a new toy to try out.

Our route began by navigating around the south side of the Lake. I wanted to give that area another try, because my earlier experiences were unsatisfying. After yesterday's walk, I don't think I will ever go that way anymore; it's so filthy and stinky. It feels like the parks maintenance crew just doesn't bother with cleaning up that area. Unless I hear of an interesting sighting at the Three Islands or another specific place on that route, I'm sticking to north of the Lake and up.

Chrissy was my helper yesterday, trying out the new toy my mom gave me: a set of 10x25 binocs with a digital camera smack-dab in the middle. It was fun to upload the pictures last night and see what its advantages and limitations are. The funny thing is that you have to aim it a little higher that what you are actually seeing through the binocs if you want the target to be centered in the photo.

Of course, I am still in search of ducklings, and having very little luck on that front. But yesterday's birding was very satisfying. I was able to show Chrissy a bunch of the stuff I wrote about in my last entry, including the horde of goslings, who have grown and whose feathers have matured considerably in a week's time. Most of them are nearly indistinguishable from their parents now, with the exception of a few younger siblings who retain more of that yellowish halo of young feathers. We found them on the south side of the Lake, so it wasn't a wasted effort.

As we travelled up the Lullwater's course, I spotted a black-crowned night heron attempting to escape from several red-winged blackbirds that seemed to be mobbing it. Every time it found a place to rest, just minutes later I'd see the group whirl by again, all flaps and threatening calls. That poor guy must have been tired when it was actually time for him to be active.

The highlight of this adventure happened along the Lullwater trail just past the rustic shelter as we headed toward the Audubon Center. Two handsome mute swans herded their three adorable cygnets into some nearby duckweed to feed. A couple in a pedal-boat came by and (thankfully) avoided scaring them away. It was my first time seeing cygnets. I'd have to say, they are nearly as cute as ducklings, and that story about the ugly duckling just doesn't make sense to me anymore.

It was a day for turtles as well. Huge ones everywhere. They were sunning on every partially submerged log in sight. These little fellows came to my attention while I was trying to get a good shot of the cygnets. So covered in duckweed were they that I didn't notice them until one had moved! And I haven't yet seen turtles of this small size in the park. This picture is for my mom, because she loves turtles.

I made a quick stop at the Binnen Bridge to check for tree swallows and was treated to a brief sighting as a blue gem sped through the air. Facing the pool-side of the bridge, I spotted my first green heron, hunting from a rock. I love the colors on this bird. We headed through the Nethermead, where I saw another tree swallow very low to the ground, dozens of big, red dragonflies, and my first eastern kingbird. I'm fairly certain I've seen that bird before, but it was the first time I had enough notes to compare to the field guide and get down to a single bird. I bet he had a good lunch on all those dragonflies!

I went back through the park on my way home from work and saw a black-crowned night heron finally getting some peace and quiet on some lily-pads. Also, way across the Lake I spotted a great egret roosting in a tree. It always surprises me to see such huge birds in trees.

Tonight the park will be full of opera-buffs, so I'll try to take a walk before work. I liked yesterday so much that maybe I'll do a bird-walk every day. Birding, commence!

in search of ducklings

2008-06-18T11:08:00.004-04:00

June 11, 2008

I got out of work at about 6:00 on this day, and had plenty of sunlight and my scooter to get around, so I visited several favorite locations within Prospect Park. I started on the paths behind the dog beach, where I found myself enveloped in the most beautiful and most classically musical birdsong I've ever heard. Several birds sang together in what sounded like a flute quartet. I couldn't get a good look at the singing birds, but a fleeting glimpse told me it was a kind of thrush. After listening to thrush songs at home (this one was so remarkable I'll never be able to forget it) I determined it was a wood thrush. It feels nice to add a bird to the list of songs and calls I recognize. That's a much smaller list than the list of birds I recognize by sight.

Having my scooter while birdwatching has its advantages: I can get from place to place really quickly, cover more ground. But, it's also noisier than walking, so some of the birds shove off as I approach. I think I will keep the two largely separate and only scoot and birdwatch if I'm on my way home from work.

The highlight of this day's birding was an awesome experience. I went into the park to look for ducklings, because they are maybe my absolute favorite thing in the natural world. Hardened criminals can be reformed by the regular application of duckling therapy. They're just so darn cute. Anyway, after my duckling encounter a few weeks ago, I was worried I might miss seeing the tiny ones paddling behind their parents on the water before they get to look too adult. So I visited the watery areas by following the Lullwater from the Upper and Lower Pools to the Lake. On the way I saw some cool birds: a tree sparrow shining over the Binnen Falls, a black-crowned night heron planning his evening's exploits by the side of the catch-and-release fishing area, and a Baltimore oriole flyby. But before all that, I found a lovely rustic bench near the Lullwater and sat to observe for a while. Before long, I saw several Canada geese leading a single-file line of their goslings. I am not nearly as ga-ga for goslings as I am for ducklings, but I was still interested. I watched with growing amazement as more and more goslings came into view, flanked and followed up by pairs of parents. The whole horde paused across the water from me to break ranks and nibble on the floating duckweed, so I had a chance to count just how many there were. Are you sitting down? Here goes: 12 parents and 51 goslings! I thrilled at this sight. I also had the distinct feeling that some of the parents were watching me intently and maybe even menacingly. The goslings' feathers were in different states: some were still quite fluffy, and some were developing dark feathering on their faces, just like mom and dad. After a few minutes the goslings reformed the single-file line, the parents resumed their guard positions at the head, shoulders, hips, knees and feet of the line, and they all moved on down the Lullwater in the direction from which I had come.

It was another time that I cursed myself for removing my camera from my pack THAT VERY DAY and so I vowed to make my camera as essential a part of my pack as the binoculars. There's a chance I could see something wondrous every day, and I want to document that. Also my mom gave me a binocular digital camera, which I am eager to try out. It's a 10x25, so as binoculars they're not that great, but the opportunity to catch exactly what I am seeing without switching to a camera and maybe missing the shot appeals to me.

the world is just awesome

2008-06-09T12:15:00.000-04:00

So it's been two and a half weeks since my last update, during which time I have not done a lot of birding. I'm really just writing to let you know I am still committed to this blog; I've just been unbelievably busy and without internet access for many days. We moved into our new apartment, unpacked everything and decorated and cleaned up. Now it looks and feels like home, with no evidence that we haven't always been here except that it's cleaner than our last place. Maybe it's just easier to keep a bigger space uncluttered, or maybe I've been more on top of things, but it looks really good.

I have been getting out with my binoculars, but not when I'm alone and able to walk as slowly as I want. I haven't been taking notes. But I've seen several bright Baltimore orioles in my recent travels (Sunday to Staten Island, for example, to Conference House Park and the beach at Great Kills) and then the usual handful of everyday birds. I was so proud of Chrissy yesterday when he said, "What kind of nest is that?" and I hadn't even seen it! It was a hanging ball nest, and it reminded me of the one Karen from the Prospect Park Audubon Center pointed out to me in the winter, so I think it was a Baltimore oriole nest. I also spent some time in the Ramble in Central Park on Saturday, where I found a great place to sit by a stream and watch birds bathe. In addition to common grackles and starlings, I got to watch a Baltimore oriole splash under the watchful gaze of a female American redstart.

It has been hot and gross outside, but we realized yesterday that the only weather that deters us from having outdoor adventures is rain. We'll go out in the coldest of cold, in the snow, in the heat, in the dripping humidity, and have a great time exploring and getting exercise. Yesterday's extreme heat, with hot wind blowing in off the sea, reminded me of a time this past winter when we were at Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge on the West Pond side when all of a sudden Manhattan disappeared. A squall of snow enveloped the skyline, and we could see a big mass of white moving toward us across the open water, closing the distance quickly. It's always interesting to me to think about where the line between snowing and not snowing is, or driving into a rainstorm and then out the other side. We weren't stranded in the snow or anything; it was just amazing to watch a small snow system be "over there" and then be snowing on us. And yesterday, even though we were outside almost all day in the unrelenting heat, sun, and sweat, was really fun. We do love our extremes.

Today's subject heading is a reference to the new Discovery Channel slogan. Have you seen that commercial? It may have taken top spot in my heart for best commercial of all time. Every time I watch it, I get tears in my eyes, because they're right: the world is just awesome. And I will put it below for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy!

Discovery Channel: I Love the World

2008-06-09T12:11:00.001-04:00

just a note

2008-05-22T16:23:00.001-04:00

Two things.

1. Sorry about any weird formatting. I am new to Blogger and still learning the ropes. What's next - actually learning HTML?

2. We got the apartment. Windsor Terrace, here we come!!!

a weird week: adventure abounds

2008-05-22T13:23:00.014-04:00

The word I choose to describe my life this week is 'frenetic'. I reported for jury duty on Tuesday and sat through several hours of waiting, watching other people's voir dire interviews, and breezing through my own. On one hand, my work situation is such that I have to use my sick time for missing work due to my civic obligation, but on the other hand, I am really interested in fulfilling that obligation and learning more about the justice system. Long story shortened: I was selected to be a juror and had to report Wednesday for noon. I did. At 12:30, they told us to go home and come back this morning at 10:00. So I called my employers and tried to arrange for me to work, because I hadn't missed any of my hours that day, but they didn't end up needing me, so hey, free day for me! The best part of that was that since it was them not requiring my services, not me asking for time off, I still get paid for yesterday without using one of my sick days. Well, actually the best part of all of that is that I spent all that newfound time birdwatching in Prospect Park.

I was dressed for court, not for birding or even being outdoors, but I had my binoculars and a thirst for nature. I entered the park at Bartel-Pritchard Square and passed a small farmstand selling fruit, flowers, and vegetables. I walked fully past it. Then the scent of apples in the sunshine took control of my body and drew me back to the stand, where I purchased an apple as big as my face to enjoy as I strolled in the spring air. At that moment I could not imagine a more romantic afternoon.

I didn't head straight for my usual haunts this time around, because I had a feeling I'd have a lot of time. At this point I was still waiting to hear from my employers; I knew they wanted me to come in, just not what time. I found a mulched path that leads into the woods close to the baseball fields and started up that. I quickly encountered a group of three teenage boys who seemed to be at work building a shelter out of found branches. Their handiwork was quite good. After chatting with them for a few minutes, I continued on the path around the fenced-in area that I soon figured out was the Quaker Cemetery I had always wondered about. Since it's closed to the public, a secret part of the park, I thought maybe the bird activity would be higher than in the well-traveled areas. I crept slowly closer to the fence, keeping my eyes alert for movement and my ears trained for new sounds. It was fairly still and quiet. The trees loomed over me, massive and aged. Even if no leaves filled out the canopy, I expect I'd have a hard time seeing birds simply because of the great height of the treetops. In the lush green carpet of the forest floor inside the fence, I spotted a brown rabbit trying not to be spotted. I also saw a bird with a friendly face, but only for a split second. It was a dull bluish-brown on top, with a complete pair of spectacles, a dull white breast and belly, and a yellow wash from its flanks to its behind. That was the extent of activity in that area. I made my way down a narrow hill-path, my dress pants catching the low branches and my too-big dress shoes cramping my toes with each downhill step.

I enjoyed peering through the fence into the mysterious burial ground. It was beautifully landscaped despite its continually locked gates. It made me think of Ben Weatherstaff and The Secret Garden. That's probably one of my favorite stories of all time. At one point, while lingering near the gate, I noticed some airy seedpods floating down from high above. I traced them back to a branch that was backlit against the sky. This whole time the clouds have been puffy and lovely, but now I notice a distinct darkness settling over the park, the kind that means rain, and soon. I struggled a few minutes to find a better place from which to view the bird disturbing all those seedpods. Eventually I found a magic spot that put the bird against a background of leaves and saw, to my delight, a handsome rose-breasted grosbeak in a red cravat! He was very high, and just as my neck was starting to give out, something impossibly bright demanded my attention considerably lower in the trees. I could not believe the beauty of this bird. It had a grey crown with small white crown stripes, a black mask, yellow chin, breast, and belly, and a black necklace across the yellow, with thick, jagged black stripes descending from it. I didn't have a notebook with me this day, because I've been using it to update my Birder's Journal a little before bed each night, and I keep all that stuff right at my bedside. So I made verbal notes and repeated them to myself several times. Though the urge to throw everything down, whip out my field guide, and look it up was nearly overwhelming, I convinced myself just to let it go for now.

The rain began lightly, giving me, with neither jacket nor umbrella nor the ability to just go home (since I was waiting to hear from work, which is one block from the park), a chance to escape into the well-leafed Ravine. I meandered its paths for a long time, avoiding the steady light rain by instead enjoying the living things around me. When the rain stopped for a few minutes, I went out to the Long Meadow paths to get a view of the pools. Nothing exciting there, but I did hear a strong and musical song in the air, and after a few minutes of following the notes, I found the singer. An orange-yellow Baltimore oriole, singing brazenly from an open branch at the top of a young tree. Another oriole responded with its own song, making a sort of conversation. Then the rain picked up again, and I headed back into the Ravine. Several times that afternoon, I heard a harsh chak repeating and tried to follow it back to a bird, only to discover that the composer of that particularly tuneless song was a chipmunk threatened by my approach. At a waterfall in the Ravine, I saw some brown, thrush-like bird with a light but bold eyebrow. Most likely a waterthrush, but it was too short an encounter to notice more details.

The real delight and torment of my day happened in the north of the Midwood. I saw some movement in the leaf litter by the path - fast, continuous movement. For a moment I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was a duckling! If you know me, or maybe you can tell from my writing, you know I feel and have long felt personally connected to ducks more than any other animal. I was so sad that just that morning I had taken my camera from my backpack, thinking they might not let me take it into the courthouse. I did manage to get a shot with my camera-phone but it's not great. The duckling toddled confidently across the path, despite being hounded by a pair of cardinals, and down the hill, up a log and then into a hollow below the log, all by itself. My first thought was that maybe it was a wood duck just leapt from its nest and its mother would be nearby, but I saw no other ducks nor did I know what to listen for in a wood duck call. I could hear the little guy peeping from its not-very-safe hiding place. I called Chrissy to try to get the number of someone who could help me know whether and how to help this duckling all on its own, away from other ducks and water, in the middle of a forest. After leaving a voicemail for Nora Septoff at Animal Care and Control, I went over to the vale of Cashmere to see if any birders were around who I could ask for help. Nothing. I went back to the duckling's hollow, but it was gone. I scanned the ground in several areas nearby, but could not find the little explorer. I only hope it did not end up as food.

By this point the air had cooled down considerably, and I was chilly in my short sleeves. Also I had eaten that huge apple, a small breakfast, and not much more. I had had enough for the day. I went to Barnes and Noble to warm up. While I was walking, I let my mind wander over the warbler file in my brain, and several names came up, but when I heard 'magnolia', I knew immediately that was the bird I had seen with the impossibly yellow breast and thick, black streaks and that I could stop wondering about it. It was a good feeling later, upon checking the guide, to find that I was correct in my gut-feeling identification.

My life birds today were: rose-breasted grosbeak and magnolia warbler. But I will never forget my first encounter with a duckling in the wild!

All shook up

2008-05-19T10:20:00.004-04:00

Lots of things are going on lately, leaving time for only little snatches of birdwatching, and not very attentive snatches at that. I did a lot of traveling last weekend to and from my brother's wedding, and this past weekend I took in a lot of theatre. And we're trying desperately to get our friend's soon-to-be-vacant apartment near Prospect Park, and things are looking good on that front. The "prospect" of a summer near the park thrills me. So I've been busy, and will become even more busy in the next two weeks as we struggle to pack all our belongings and move before May 31. But I've always got my eyes to the skies, and I'll recount to you my more interesting sightings.

May 13, Prospect Park, 12:30-1:00 p.m.

It was really the most pleasant kind of day, at about 65 degrees with bright sun and a warm breeze. After dropping off some forms to our potential landlord, Chrissy and I walked through the park to get me to work. On the west side of the lake, I had a great view of a yellow-rumped warbler on a branch just above eye-level. Scanning the lake, I spotted Canada Geese, mute swans, a double-crested cormorant, and very few mallards. I am also consistently thwarted in getting a good view of those brownish swallows I often see dipping and flapping over bodies of water by the very fact of their speed. I didn't have time to hang out behind the Pools like I usually do, but I did hear a red-bellied woodpecker.

May 15, Prospect Park, 5:45-7:30 p.m.

I got out of work early, with sunlight to spare, so I took a detour through the park. The air seemed dense with robin-song everywhere I walked. I found a common yellowthroat in the same thicket near the dog beach that I saw my first one. Cardinals' chip-ped incessantly from all directions. After a while I realized that while I heard robins singing left and right and exasperatingly, almost every bird I actually saw was a robin, I wasn't actually seeing that many birds, not even dots of movement in the canopy. I resigned myself to a down-day of birding, but still held hope for other birds to show themselves. In the Ravine, I saw most likely a red-tailed hawk take off from a far tree-limb with a lump of prey in its grasp. When I got around to the Audubon Center, I saw a lovely great blue heron coming in for a landing in a leg of the Lullwater that was edged by several great egrets. Around here I caught sight of an American goldfinch and two rabbits, one of which decided it felt comfortable with my watching it eat dandelion stems from a suitable distance. At this point the sky let down some drizzle, and I noticed that the clouds that had earlier just been big, were now big, dark, and advancing in my direction. The rest of my walk was quick, but I managed to see a yellow-rumped warbler, a red-bellied woodpecker, a downy woodpecker, and two rats along the water's edge. I think my greatest joy of that whole walk was the downy woodpecker at the end. I heard its forceful pecking, had a little trouble finding it, found it, and watched it fly to a better viewing location while voicing ki-ki-ki-ki-ki.

May 17, Rockefeller State Park Preserve, Tarrytown, NY

We were itching to try a new mall, find a letterbox, and see Prince Caspian on Saturday. The letterbox clues led us to Rockefeller State Park Preserve, which turned out to be one of the most beautiful and relaxing landscapes I've ever traversed. We packed a picnic of roast beef sandwiches and Nutter-Butter cookies that my mom had given me for the long bus-ride back from my brother's wedding the weekend before. A hairy caterpillar tried to get in on the fun, but he was very slow-moving.

I love the smell of rivers in the warmer months, the sight of rolling green hills, and the feel of warm wind. I had only my binoculars with me, no notebook or field guide, but I wrote down my observations when we got back to the car. One thing I appreciated about the landscape was the amount of open sky. It afforded me some great views of turkey vultures soaring, red-tailed hawks being chased by crows, and crows being chased by mockingbirds. I saw a few little yellow birds, but never for long enough to etch things into my memory. I'm pretty sure I saw a small group of brown-headed cowbirds in the grass. I had seen the same bird in Prospect Park two days earlier singing atop a lamppost, and now I had a better view. Black, glossy body, brown head, stout beak gracefully tapered at the end. And when it sang I was reminded of the squeak that comes from washing windows. On our way back to the car, I heard a beautiful song and stopped to locate the singer. It was a very cooperative Baltimore oriole, singing brightly just ten feet away in the lower branches of the tree I stood beneath. I watched him closely as the wind coming off the Hudson ruffled his feathers, revealing black roots under the orange. Considering the weather, landscape, company, picnic, letterbox, and birdwatching, I think I have to declare Saturday, May 17, 2008, as the newest Best Day of My Life.

Rained out!

2008-05-09T22:47:00.004-04:00

If you had asked me two days ago what I was going to do on Friday, I would have told you, "Why, I'll work for two hours and spend the rest of the daylight watching birds in Central Park!" And that would have been a lot of daylight too, considering I got out of work promptly at three today and I was already on the Upper West Side. Very sadly for me, today was a complete washout. I was alternately soaked and just damp for about three hours, and none of it came from being out in the field watching birds - just getting from one place to another! But it was the first hard rainstorm for my new umbrella, and it held up very well in the winds. I'm a little disappointed in its diameter, though, since its small size contributed greatly to the wetness of my entire lower half. The best thing I found out today was that my hiking boots, purchased recently for the purposes of letterboxing and birding in many terrains, are actually completely waterproof. My toasty feet were the only consolation for this washed out day.

But you came here to read about my birding exploits, so I'll give you some recent news.

Wednesday, May 7
I ran out of things to do at work before I had to pick up the kids from afterschool/playdate, so I left a little early and walked along Prospect Park West (toward Grand Army Plaza) to my destinations. The air was breezy but warm - about 73 degrees, I'd wager. I walked slowly along the sidewalk, trying to see where the sunlight illuminated the trees mostly brightly. On the lower half of a tree trunk, I spotted a black and white warbler doing its funny criss-cross hop. In one hop it will face left, then the next hop forward, it faces right, next hop left, etc. It's a very funny pattern of movement. I saw my four most common birds - pigeon, starling, robin, and house sparrow - in good numbers. A bit further down the park I saw a speck descending the bark of a trunk headfirst, and when I got a bit closer and it got a bit lower, I could see it was a red-breasted nuthatch. Female, I think, because the red wash was limited to the flanks from what I could see.

My new bird of the day was difficult to keep in my field of vision; the wind kicked up several times, causing the new leaves to obscure the bird's position or even whether the bird took off. But I was patient and the wind died down, and soon I found the bird again. It seemed largely black on wings and throat, with a white breast, belly, and vent, and what I could only describe as a symmetrical deep blue cloak over its back. Each wing had a small white patch. I'm glad I took my time to look for details, because it enabled me to make some good notes and later identify the bird as a black-throated blue warbler.

As I left the park behind to head down-slope, I glanced once over my shoulder and saw a brief but majestic sight. Just above the tree line, over the Long Meadow I suppose, a large red-tailed hawk flew facefirst into the wind. It seemed suspended in one place by the force of the wind against it. It looked massive with its wings arched to catch the wind, and the impression I got of this hawk was pure strength. It dipped below the treeline, only to regain its former height a second later. It must have made some headway because soon my view was obscured by treetops.

So my life bird today was the black-throated blue warbler and I had a nice appearance by a red-tailed hawk. All this happened within a half hour, maybe less. I love stolen moments.

2008-05-04T22:20:00.004-04:00

I didn't get out for long today, because I had to work, but I got out of work around 5:45 and had some time to spare before my dinner date with Chrissy. So I walked a block up to the park, with no real destination in mind. I walked along Prospect Park West toward Litchfield Villa. The waning light was hitting the treetops at the outer edge of the park so perfectly that I had to stick around and see what I could see. Leaning against the stone wall, I aimed my unfocused gaze up at the tallest, brightest tree to gather in any movements. I was in luck! I trained my binoculars on the moving dots and zeroed in on a bird with a black face mask and a bright yellow throat on an olive body - my first common yellowthroat. I saw another one near the dog beach an hour and a half later.

Gray catbirds are everywhere, almost as numerous as robins, it seems. And yet, even knowing I am surrounded by them, I've only heard their signature meowing cry once this season. That cry hearkens me back to my earliest birding days last year when I would hear that call and think it sounded like a baby lost in the woods.

I went down the hill toward the Third Street Playground, and paused to watch five house sparrows enjoy a dust bath in the dirt path. Past the busy Picnic House I went, slower now, listening and looking. Most rustles I heard were squirrels, but a few eastern towhees did their funny leaf-litter dance as well. I saw a man with a huge lens on his camera. He was shooting a white squirrel. I wonder if it was the same white squirrel I saw last year next to a black squirrel. That was a cool contrast. Anyway, we ran into each other a few times in the park, and it turns out his name is Bill, and I don't think he was a birder. He seemed to be looking for nature-y things to photograph. I pointed out to him a robin sitting in its nest cup in a low crook at eye level - a good photo I hope. Later behind the pools we searched for black-and-white warblers together - not that hard a task. Those guys are everywhere lately.

Eventually our adventuring led us in separate directions, and I started looking in earnest for warblers on the path behind the Upper and Lower Pools. On Friday, I had taken one of the kids for a bird walk, just to look with our eyes, and had been ridiculously lucky in seeing new and mysterious birds. I vowed to come back there as soon as I could. And today it was no less interesting. I saw several ovenbirds skulking on the ground and trying to hide behind leaves. I saw a hermit thrush and a palm warbler. And way up the in trees I spotted something black and orange that didn't exactly resemble the Baltimore oriole I saw last weekend. That turned out to be an American redstart.

Satisfied with my short birding adventure, sad about the failing light, and very hungry, I made my way out of the Ravine, back behind the pools and I almost made it out to the Long Meadow when I started chatting with a nice woman birder named Monica. She told me about the recent Kentucky warbler sightings and a little of her own history as a birder. I'm certainly glad to meet so many people while engaged in what can be a fairly solitary undertaking.

My life birds today were common yellowthroat and American redstart. I also saw several birds I couldn't identify on sight or with my notes afterward. I expect that at some point this "take good notes" mantra will set in or take effect, but for now I think I just need a lot of practice.

the value of good note-taking

2008-05-03T23:50:00.000-04:00

I had a lot of time to myself while Chrissy got tickets for our Iron Man date and went to his rehearsal, and I spent this time at Central Park. I got off the train at 72nd street, not 81st like always. I didn't realize just how far from my usual haunts I was, but the new scenery was quite pleasant. The weather was a little cooler than I expected - I regretted changing out of my first instinct, a sweater, and into a t-shirt once the sun dipped below the trees. The dampness clung to my bare hands and crept up the sleeves of my jacket, but the birds were numerous and cooperative, so I didn't mind.

I started my jaunt by accidentally discovering Wagner Cove, a secret southerly finger of the Lake. I had seen something yellow darting from shore to nearby shore over the finger of lakewater and mud, and that aroused my interest. I rounded the bushes and found a path leading down to a rustic shelter and the lakeshore.

Here I will pause to interject that my current very specific birding goal is to "take good notes". While I'm on the bird I talk quietly to myself and make a verbal list of the bird's visible attributes, because I know saying words helps me remember them. Then, once the bird has hidden itself from view, I try to write down what I remember, and any details comparing the bird to other standard birds for reference, the bird's location, behavior, and any crude sketches I think will help me if I can't find the right topographical bird word. In this way I force myself to stay on the bird and out of the field guide when in the field. I try to consult my field guide only after I have put away my binoculars and gotten on the train home. Then I try to reconcile my notes and sketches with what I find in the book. Many times, my hard work is rewarded with a clear or easy identification. But much too often, I am left with a list of notes that don't add up to a single bird and an empty feeling of, I don't know, let's call it "unfinished narrative". Because everyone wants to know how something turns out in the end. And this is why I'm trying to slow down, to notice more, and to take good notes.

I stopped to tell you that because I took a lot of notes during this outing and had several gorgeous birds persist in their namelessness - particularly something sandpiperish on the muddied shores of Wagner Cove and that same yellow dart I mentioned earlier.

It was here in the mud and greenery that I met my first swamp sparrows. I made a quick note of a tail-bobbing behavior, but the longer I watched, the more it reminded me of a) the butt waggle I would do as a child to entice a parent to chase and hug me and b) Bugs Bunny in drag, walking with exaggerated rear-end swing. It was not an up-and-down motion, but a wide U-shape, often accompanied by a short pik call.

After a half hour in the Cove, I made my way past a wedding party taking pictures on the grass, across the Bow Bridge, and into the Ramble. I saw some swallows darting and wheeling in the air over the Lake, and searched for telltale signs of their identity. Luckily, the light caught them right, and their dark shiny blue tops and long forked tails gave them away as barn swallows.

The Ramble was buzzing with birdsound and human activity. The joyful drumming of a Beltane maypole celebration barely drowned out the stage combat practice of several adolescents in Elizabethan garb wielding foils. Surrounded by gray catbirds and black-and-white warblers, I went deeper into the forest to escape the human noise. Someone led me to successfully see a chestnut-sided warbler. Its markings reminded me of big chocolate drool-stains. Soon I saw a bit of dusky orange and followed it for a long time through a lot of underbrush. It turned out to be a wood thrush, much brighter and bigger than the hermits I've been seeing, and with more uniform spotting, all the way to the vent.

I wandered the Ramble for a while, starting to feel the chill settle in my bones, when I tracked a song I was hearing to the top of a short tree nearby. This eastern towhee sang his song matter-of-factly, in a call-and-response with another towhee somewhere not far off. I stood and watched for a few minutes, and two birders approached to find out who was making all that noise. I let them in on the secret, and after the bird took off, the three of us stood together looking at birds on the expanse of mud that I'm sure in drier times is a walking path to what I've heard others call the Maintenance Field. We saw several American goldfinches, a bright purple finch, and more swamp sparrows. Soon three other birders joined us - Doug, who I met last weekend, and Paul and his step-daughter Claudia, who might turn out to be a good birding partner for me. The absolute highlight of this day, besides possibly making a new friend, was a group of four indigo buntings chilling out on the fence and peeking out of the grass. Soon our little group disbanded, and on my way back to the Castle I saw a few chipping sparrows.

At the Castle, I peeked over the fence to check on the Canada goose nest, only to find it had been abandoned and perhaps destroyed. One egg remained, and the down which lined the nest last week had all blow away. It reminded me of something I overheard on what was perhaps my first birding adventure in Central Park: it's some park employee's job to destroy the nest each spring to prevent overpopulation. I always hoped that wasn't true, but after seeing that lonely egg, I don't know what to believe.

My life birds today were: barn swallow, chestnut-sided warbler, purple finch, indigo bunting. Also I got the phone number of a newly bird-minded young woman like myself. Hopefully, we'll get together in a few weeks. Many birds I saw never got identified, but it's all too new and exciting to let that get me down. A good day!

'tis the season (for warbler neck)

2008-04-27T21:48:00.009-04:00

For a few weeks, Chrissy's got rehearsals on Saturdays from 4-6 p.m., so today I took advantage of this time with my binoculars in the Ramble. The weather was pretty good, just cool enough for a jacket, and the sky was overcast, but not in a rain-threatening way. I started on the mulched path that leads from the Pinetum area down to the restrooms near Turtle Pond. I had seem palm warblers here before, but today the ground was populated largely by pigeons, starlings, and robins. I did get a great view, however, of a brilliant male red-bellied woodpecker fairly low on a tree trunk.

I visited the great egret at Turtle Pond, and while I was scanning the far edge, I saw a bit of tawny-brown fluff in a duck-like shape resting in the hollow of some rocks. I couldn't get a good view from so far away, so I climbed the castle and peered down, only to discover a Canada Goose (boo, that's so regular) on its nest (yay, that's so awesome)! The nest was lined with downy feathers, and a sparrow kept lurking nearby, perhaps hoping to steal some of them for its own nest. Once I saw the goose stand up and reposition itself, and I could see a few big eggs. What a thrill!

The Ramble was alive with birdsound. I walked though pockets of dense singing sound and pockets of quiet leaf-litter sound. The first bird I noticed gave me a hard time. I took a lot of notes, and it obliged me in this endeavor by sticking around a good long time. I thought I was getting a new bird, but when I consulted my field guide on the subway, it turned out to be a female eastern towhee, with a brown head, throat and back rather than the black I had seen before. I felt a little silly, of course, because I flipped through the book twice before I found it. But I also felt good at having done some detective work and making a successful ID. I won't be tricked by that one again!

As I was gathering my things to move to a new area, a small black and white striped bird landed on the tree trunk not seven feet away from me. I watched it climb, or rather, hop, quite actively up the trunk. The amount of movement and activity the bird displayed gave it an air of flightiness, excuse the pun. I enjoyed watching this bird, and I had the gut feeling it was a black-and-white warbler. When I consulted my field guide later, it mentioned a similarity in behavior to that other adored bird of mine, the white-breasted nuthatch, so I knew I had the right bird.

I spent some time craning my neck near what I think is called Azalea Pond in the Ramble, and spotted a Baltimore oriole way up in the leaves. Other birders flocked (boy, the puns are just begging to be used) to this area too, perhaps drawn by the density of birdsound. Several species of birds were fighting over this one patch of tree bark about five feet up the trunk. I wondered what could be so special or delicious about this one patch, and when no birds were on it, I went over to look. It looked regular to my eyes, but something about it certainly attracted the attention of house sparrows, red-winged blackbirds, starlings, and downy woodpeckers. In this area I also had my first yellow-rumped warbler.

My time was almost up, and I was wandering back toward the Castle when I spotted a rock just the right size and angle for reclining to get a good view of the birds in the canopy with less neck strain on my part. It was here that I met Doug, a friendly birder who helped me identify a palm warbler far above us by the tell-tale tail-pump. Apparently not many yellow birds pump their tails.

Overall an excellent day of birding, with three life birds - black and white warbler, yellow-rumped warbler, and Baltimore oriole.

Ithaca Wrap-Up

2008-04-25T22:54:00.004-04:00

Chrissy and I made the trip up to Ithaca to visit some friends, track down a few letterboxes, and seek out some birds. Admittedly we spent more time letterboxing and exploring the very cool town of Ithaca, but I have a few good sightings.

Notably, on the drive north, I saw a good number of turkey vultures swirling up in the air, a red-tailed hawk perched on a limb beside the road, three wild turkeys by the side of the highway, and two deer perilously close to the highway. Also, not to be gross, but we saw a lot of roadkill too.

The sky threatened rain when we arrived at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, so we explored the exhibits, watched some educational films, played a sound identification game, and watched birds through the many windows facing the pond and the feeder garden. It did rain for a short time, and when it stopped we headed out into Sapsucker Woods to find some letterboxes and spot some birds. The bugs after the rain were relentlessly interesting in buzzing in my face, making it difficult to concentrate and stay still. But the forest was pretty quiet of birdsong anyway, to be honest. The highlights of my time at the Lab include a ring-necked duck, several tree swallows, and a great blue heron perched high in a tree over the pond.

Our letterboxing adventures took us also to the Cornell campus, specifically Beebe Lake. We watched two brave college students jump into the lake from a bridge that must have been 25-30 feet above the water. They seemed to be having a good time. On this lake I saw a beautiful common merganser swimming away from the splashes the jumpers made. Also on an island in the lake sat a bird I couldn't see too well because its head rested on its back, but from its size, colors and pattern, I'd say it was a hooded merganser.

The next day, our letterboxing clues took us to Buttermilk Falls State Park, which boasts a series of beautiful waterfalls and a 450-foot climb to see them all. The great part about this was that once we found the letterbox, we were so high up that I had a great view of the turkey vultures making their rounds. I'd never had the chance to see them so close up before. I also was startled by a little garter snake, and thrilled when a red-tailed hawk flew close by.

Next we headed to Stewart Park, which borders Cayuga Lake, one of the five big lakes that constitute the Finger Lakes Region of New York State. After tromping the wooded paths for almost an hour, I left Chrissy to search crazedly for the last box while I found a quiet place to stand and watch birds. I did see a bright little American goldfinch, which excited me because I had only ever seen goldfinches at feeders so far. I found a little stream bordered by trees on both sides and decided to stay and see who showed up. I saw several downy woodpeckers hopping about on the same tree limb and a northern flicker making its way majestically through the woods. Soon Chrissy rejoined me and we crossed to the other side of the stream and walked along it. I could see some ducks across the way, and with my binocs I saw they were wood ducks! When they noticed that they were being noticed, they hopped out of the water and stood in the leaf litter for a few minutes, enabling me to get a great view. And I got to show them to Chrissy so he can understand just how beautiful and weird-looking birds can be.

We returned to Stewart Park the next day for one last try at the impossible letterbox, and that's when I saw a pair of gorgeous common mergansers taking a swim-stroll on the lake. Really beautiful. We also saw lots of turtles basking and a pretty big brown snake that quickly escaped into the water. I never thought I was afraid of snakes, but I have to admit I was a little jumpy after that.

Soon it was time to make the long drive back to New York City for Chrissy's rehearsal Friday night. Although I was really sleepy and absolutely love sleeping in the car, especially in the afternoon sunlight, I kept my eyes open for interesting roadside sights. I saw Canada geese lounging in someone's backyard pond, a crow hounding a red-tailed hawk in mid-air, a deer eating clover by the roadside, and a belted kingfisher on a telephone wire above a bridge over a creek.

Road trips with my husband are already my number one favorite thing, but now that we letterbox all along the route and I watch for birds, I think I'm going to be pushing for more road trips!

Way up yonder

2008-04-19T23:20:00.004-04:00

Today I knew I'd have plenty of time to myself, so I started at the northern end of Central Park and worked my way south. I haven't walked through the North Woods or around the Harlem Meer since I became a birdwatcher, so I was excited for a new experience. The Ravine is a peaceful walk with paths on both sides and a weak stream in the middle. I saw some really beautiful birds in this area, including a northern flicker, an eastern towhee, and the tiny, well-camouflaged brown creeper. I enjoy watching the brown creeper do his thing - namely, creep up tree trunks. The real highlight of my time in the North Woods, however, was my first owl. I had seen a pair of birders training their binoculars on something high up, but I was too far away at the time to ask them about it before they wandered away. When I got over to where they had been standing, I scanned the area and found their quarry - about the size and shape of a Furby, colored exactly like bark, and sleeping in the crook of two tree limbs was an eastern screech owl. I stuck around to watch this guy, even though it was asleep, and I caught a glimpse of its yellow eyes as it woke up a little to reposition itself in the tree's branches.

I walked around the Meer, trying in vain to get a good look at the swallows that darted and zoomed over the water. I also went into the Conservatory Garden(s) for the first time. They are lovely formal gardens, but I think I would enjoy them more with a friend along. A wedding reception was under way, with a string quartet playing softly.

I walked down to the Reservoir and spotted some northern shovelers, a few mallards, and several buffleheads. A double-crested cormorant stood on the corner of one of the buildings overlooking the reservoir at its northern end, and its eyebrow-plumes were visible against the late afternoon light.

Down through the Pinetum I wandered, spotting a few friends, including a palm warbler who obliged my desire to watch it for several minutes by not flying away. I also saw a dark-eyed junco and house sparrow in this area. Over at Turtle Pond, the red-winged blackbirds sang in the trees and reeds. This time, it was close to evening, and the black-crowned night heron was awake and active. I got a good look and will count it on my list now.

By the end of my adventure, I had walked seven miles within Central Park, and made my way from 110th street all the way down to 59th street. I wear a pedometer every day, and the days I come to Central Park with the express intent of watching birds, I take many more steps for a lot less ache afterward than if I just went for a walk of the same distance. Must be a case of "time flies when you're having fun".

short but sweet

2008-04-18T23:05:00.004-04:00

I took a very short walk through the Vale of Cashmere at Prospect Park this afternoon. The flora is starting to become quite fuzzy and colorful, with small buds giving way to tiny flowers and leaves. I saw the usual suspects, including starlings and a cardinal, squirrels and a chipmunk, and a proud robin keeping watch over the Vale from its perch. The same pair of friendly mallards from last week paddled around in the very shallow puddle. I wonder when that pond will be filled - I'm sure it will be beautiful. I also saw again the ruby-crowned kinglet, and this time he was out in good light with his ruby crest raised like a little mohawk. I kept my binoculars trained on a northern flicker for a while as it popped in and out of a high tree-hole. As I climbed the hill-path toward the Long Meadow, I saw a spot of black and white moving about on a log. I'm always happy to see a downy woodpecker, so I watched for a few minutes. But it quickly became apparent from the size of the bird and the size of its beak that what I had here was my first hairy woodpecker. I watched it slowly push its way up a tree and out of sight. It was a nice way to end my brief outing.

sometimes I wish a sparrow would land on me

2008-04-16T22:25:00.001-04:00

Today I only had to be at work for 3:00, and Chrissy had to go into the city for 10:00 anyway, so I got up early and we rode the train in together. The prospect of having time to find birds on a weekday excited me. I entered Central Park from 81st Street and poked around the Winterdale Arch for a few minutes. I started seeing the really good birds near the statues in front of the Delacorte Theater, including a yellow-bellied sapsucker, a downy woodpecker, and a red-bellied woodpecker. And all this within the span of ten minutes!

In the grass across from the statues, a robin worked hard at extracting an earthworm from the ground. I observed the robin as it seemed to prepare the worm for eating by picking it up several times with its beak, gripping the worm's body in different places - perhaps to immobilize its prey. The robin gulped down a big piece of worm, but not as big a piece as the length of the full worm I had seen struggling to stay underground. I wonder whether the robin left some behind, having had its fill or perhaps been scared off, or whether the worm appeared elongated to my eyes as the bird stretched it from its hole.

As I stood near the statues, I happened to witness some small sparrow land on a thin tree branch and alight again immediately into the sunlight. With it rose a nearly imperceptible cloud of pollen, released from its home by the weight and then the absence of the sparrow, and beginning a journey to complete its purpose. Watching birds allows me to immerse myself in the nature of little things, but lovingly suggests that the immensity of interconnectedness is secretly inherent in all things. I love feeling deeply the universe's secrets.

I made way for a large group of high school students on a field trip whose leader announced their plans to climb Belvedere Castle next. I dawdled at Turtle Pond, spotting a great blue heron sitting in much the same way a hen sits on her eggs. I'd never seen a great blue heron not standing up straight or at least resting upright on its feet. There didn't seem to be a nest on the ground where it sat. Also in this area I saw a great egret, several common grackles, mallards, Canada geese, and a double-crested cormorant whose double-crestedness was actually a little bit apparent.

The school group took their time on the castle, so I strolled into the Ramble for a good long time. I had intended to find the Evodia Field feeders to see what I could see, much like the bear who went over the mountain. After a while of walking, it occurred to me that birds don't need feeders when they're surrounded by flowering and fruit-bearing plants. Asking a fellow birder helped clear up the matter; the feeders were taken down two weeks ago. So I felt a little better about my navigational skills, at least; since the feeders had been a landmark for me and were no longer there, I was rightfully lost, not through ineptitude. While in the Ramble, I spotted a red-tailed hawk making a wide, upward spiral in the sky. It was very calming to watch this hawk swirl around, searching for thermals to ride, held aloft by nothing more than air. Somehow it affirmed my faith in the benevolent nature of the universe.

I spotted a lot of the common woodland inhabitants, including cardinals, tufted titmice, and black-capped chickadees. Again I saw an eastern towhee, and I watched that for a few moments as it chilled out in the low crotch of a young tree. A small personal triumph: I finally put together the O sweet Canada Canada Canada or Old Sam Peabody Peabody Peabody song with the bird that sings it! The white-throated sparrow is the culprit, heralding spring in its unique way and getting the first five notes of O Come, O Come, Emmannuel really stuck in my head.

I also saw one white-breasted nuthatch. I'm not sure I'll ever not be thrilled to see those little guys. I like their behavior, movements, and apparent curiosity. Now that I think of it, I believe that was the first species I ever attempted to identify as a birder with my own binoculars and field guide, after having spotted one near the Harlem Meer last fall. Since that day it's been a joyful and educational descent into bird madness, a madness from which I hope never to recover.

thank goodness for Free Tuesdays

2008-04-15T21:00:00.004-04:00

I only had to go into work for 2:00 today, so Chrissy and I took a jaunt over to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden to take advantage of its wonderful "free on Tuesdays" policy. The sun was bright and strong, but the air was just cool enough for long sleeves or a light jacket. I wanted to see if the cherry trees had blossomed yet, but I think that won't happen for a few more weeks. But splashes of color are rising up everywhere; the magnolias are going strong, a few weeping-style cherries are in bloom, and the tulips are about to pop open any day now. The garden had a much different feel in the winter - very still, even dormant, as though the plants had shut down to minimum function to conserve energy. On this visit, I had the distinct feeling that I was surrounded by potential energy, as though the plants have a happy secret to tell and might burst from the energy required to keep it quiet.

I saw a lot of the usual suspects like robins and starlings. Now that I recognize white-throated sparrows, I can see them everywhere. That may just be because their numbers are up for the season, but it feels that way with new information sometimes - now that I know, I can't not see.
Walking on the Celebrity Path near the pond, I spotted a yellow-bellied sapsucker in a tree nearby, but lost sight of it when it flew below a ridge. I spent the most time in the Native Flora Garden, where I saw a few things I couldn't identify and which were gone too quickly for note-making. I did see a northern flicker fly around the area a few times, its yellow underwings perhaps the most colorful part of the Native Flora Garden at this time of year. I also saw a thrush and this time took more time to make mental notes of what it had and didn't have for field marks - dark brown chest spots, no spectacles, dark eye with thin, complete white eye ring, a redder tail than back. A hermit thrush! It was nice to do a better job with this thrush than my earlier one at Central Park.

A Short Stroll

2008-04-14T23:14:00.009-04:00

This afternoon I had a short window of time in which to meander the paths of Prospect Park. The air was warm and the sun shone brightly. Instead of my usual route - toward the pools, feeders, and lake - I resolved to find the Vale of Cashmere, which I had visited once long before my birding life began. And find it, I did! Along the way I crossed the Long Meadow and passed a lot of robins and starlings. Though I realize what a pesky bird the starling can be, I am endlessly amazed at the sheer number of different sounds it produces. Today it was a loud clacking noise made while snapping its bill shut. I also enjoy the one that sounds like a human blowing through a noisemaker, specifically the short cylinder with a little fan inside. I hear that one a lot when I am waking up in the morning.

The Long Meadow is so big that one moment you can be in the shadow of a big cumulonimbus cloud while seeing bright light over there, and the next you can be in the bright light while the clouds darken a different 'over there'. I always find that to be an interesting experience, like driving out of a rainstorm. It makes me wonder just where the line is that separates storm from not storm.

On to the Vale! What a beautifully designed hideaway it is. It sits in a hollow between hills and centers around an oddly-shaped man-made pond. The pond is tastefully surrounded with various flowering trees and bushes, creating a haven for small birds. The air was fairly quiet of birdsound, but I saw my first chipmunk of the year, several white butterflies, a friendly pair of mallards, and a cardinal. I found a good spot to stand still to see if that would allow birds to present themselves. After about a minute, I spotted movement in a nearby pond's-edge bush. I could see the shape of the bird, but not colors because of the lighting in the bush. I thought it might be a titmouse because of its posture and small crest, but it seemed a less natural location for a titmouse. Soon the bird came into the light for a very brief glimpse - plain appearance with a very small bill and a bright red crown stripe. The ruby-crowned kinglet disappeared quickly into the foliage and no amount of standing still and being quiet drew him out again. At this time I had to make my way out of the park and resume the other part of my life - NOT birdwatching.

Best Day of My Life

2008-04-13T10:29:00.007-04:00

Not even exaggerating. I reserve the right to update that claim whenever I have a new best day.

Saturday Chrissy had rehearsal in Manhattan, so we had lunch at Chelsea Market. We finally got to try the famous Sarabeth's. What I ate was very strange but I would try everything else there. He found out he'd have to go to rehearsal early, so I ended up with almost three hours to walk around Central Park instead of the one hour I'd expected. And let me tell you, I could have stayed five hours, I had so much fun. The forecast had predicted a 40% chance of rain and perhaps thunderstorms, but what we had was a day of mixed clouds and sun and temperatures in the mid-70s. The wind picked up once for about ten minutes, the way it does before a thunderstorm, and I did hear some rumbling from the sky, but it never let loose.

I entered the park near the American Museum of Natural History, and found myself walking, serendipitously, to the Winterdale Arch. That's the very same arch around which all the western tanager sightings have centered for the past week or so. I saw a few birders hovering in the area, perhaps waiting for the tanager to make an appearance. I saw one man with a big camera focusing on a small yellow bird. I wanted to see the bird up close, but I thought it would be rude to scare it away from the man's photographs. So I walked through the arch toward the pinetum, where I noticed several common grackles rummaging in the mulch and grass. A man wearing binoculars emerged from the trees and nodded to me. His name was Corey. He told me about a pine warbler he had just seen "in a pine tree," told me what to look for in a western tanager, and then pointed me toward a palm warbler. I thanked him and decided to observe the palm warbler for a while, to notice its field marks, make notes, and decide for myself whether it was a palm warbler. I like doing the work of identification myself, but I am also glad when others point me toward interesting birds.

Seen by themselves, palm warblers are rather yellow. Viewed on early spring grass, they are nearly invisible - little moving flits. I sat on a flat rock and watched three or four of them scattered on the grass for a few minutes. It struck me what a different world I'm in now that I care about birds so deeply; the people walking their dogs across the grass didn't even see the warblers, nor did they care whether they might be scaring away that crazy-young-lady-with the-field-glasses' quarry. From this perch I also watched starlings and robins bathing in a puddle.

I decided to make my way toward the reservoir by way of the pinetum. I looked around for the pine warbler Corey mentioned, but a pinetum is full of pine trees and I didn't have specific information. Continuing toward the reservoir, I paused to refill my Sigg bottle and spotted an interesting sparrow in some brush. Its crown was strikingly contrasted with heavy black and white stripes, and it had bright yellow between its beak and eye. I made note of a white beard on a grey throat, and upon consulting my field guide later, decided I had my first white-throated sparrow.

Upon arriving at the reservoir, I immediately scanned the water for buffleheads - my personal favorite. At least three pairs floated together nearby, and I watched their cute diving antics for a moment until a very ruddy duck came into view. About 15 ruddy ducks bobbed up and down in a sleeping position. It was my first sighting of this duck in breeding plumage. I suppose I had never thought about why it was called "ruddy" though I had seen its picture many times; perhaps I thought of its stiff, proud tail as a rudder. I waited patiently for a male to wake up because I knew what he was hiding - a bright blue bill! One soon obliged me, and satisfied, I made my way toward the Ramble. Passing through the pinetum once more, I spotted a flash of uncertain yellow above me under the pine trees. Intrigued, I searched the area where the flash stopped, and beheld an awesome sight: a yellow-bellied sapsucker. I was sure right away about this ID, because only an hour earlier had I begun to doubt myself about downy woodpeckers; I thought perhaps I was seeing a mix of downies and sapsuckers, but attributing them all as downies. So I briefly consulted my field guide to fix in my mind the differences between the two species. And that certainly paid off, for I can now add yellow-bellied sapsucker to my life list.

As I approached the restrooms near Turtle Pond for a much needed break, I spotted a flock of fifty or more dark-eyed juncos on the grass to the right of the path. I think juncos look a little oafish and maybe not too bright. They don't seem to have as much character as a showier or more active bird like a titmouse or a nuthatch. I scanned Turtle Pond from the Great Lawn side and spotted a couple of Canada geese and a few mallards. When I got up to the main level of Belvedere Castle, I peered over the pond again, spotting a great blue heron on the small island and something perched in a tree on the right side of the pond. It was obscured by branches, so I couldn't get a good look, but I saw an identical shape in an opening in a green bush on the island with the heron, so I inspected that. It stood on one leg, with a white front and flanks and a very dark head and neck. It appeared to be sleeping, but I couldn't tell if its head was tucked under a wing or just turned around on its back. A bespectacled and mustachioed man with his binoculars on a tripod told me it was a black-crowned night heron, and I believe him (after consulting my Sibley, of course), but I don't think I will add it to the list until I get a better view of an awake specimen. I couldn't even see its face. Also in this area I saw a northern flicker, by which I am always mesmerized, a tufted titmouse, and a red-winged blackbird.

I made my way into the Ramble, that birders' heaven. I knew my time alone was running out, and I wanted to find the feeders and sit and watch what showed up. I passed by a tall tree, and saw out of the corner of my eye and behind me, something arrive to cling to the tree's side. I slowly backtracked until I could spot the bird. It was small and brown, clung low to the tree, and had a down-curved bill. Brown creeper! I thought. If so, my first one. I later checked the book, to find that my ID was correct. I can't tell you how amazed I am that studying actually works. I know it's been a few years since I was in school, but I just love using my brain! I do study the field guide and read books and look things up about birds, and it's just honestly awesome to see and feel it all being put to good use (and good identification).

And another triumph for me this day: cedar waxwings in good light. I had seen them before in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, but they were backlit against the sky. I couldn't see any marks aside from the crest and I didn't feel right about counting that sighting. But these waxwings yesterday were visible in all their waxy splendor, perusing the dried leaves in the Ramble's underbrush. The cedar waxwing looks like the Zorro or Batman of birds - devilishly handsome with a stylish black face-mask. I did get a chance to see one fly away, and I enjoyed seeing its tail feathers spread out, with the yellow tail-tips making a nice semi-circle.

Earlier, while I was observing the palm warblers, a woman with a very cute dog told me she had seen a Swainson's thrush. Here in the Ramble, I too saw a thrush, but did not take enough notes to identify it. I must have skipped the thrushes section in the guide, because I had no idea a)there were so many thrushes, and b)what field marks to look for. Well, that will teach me to take better notes!

Chrissy called me at about 5:15 and we decided to meet at the Castle. I was just making my way over when I spotted a new bird, and I had to sit down and watch for just a few minutes. Black on top, and rusty brown and white below, the eastern towhee (another I blessedly knew off the top of my head) reminded me of a monk in its robes. At this point I really had to be going, as we had to get back to Brooklyn for a 7:30 play, but I saw a white-breasted nuthatch (another personal favorite) and met a very nice birder named Steve on the way out.

So I never did find the feeders or see the western tanager, but I spent all day out in the glory of spring listening and looking. I didn't get a sunburn, I didn't get dehydrated, my feet are sore, and we didn't find the letterbox we came for, but I got 16,000+ steps, fresh air, and several new birds. I look forward to the next new Best Day of My Life!

First Green-Wood excursion

2008-04-11T21:43:00.004-04:00

Thursday we treated ourselves to our favorite decadent lunch from Blue Apron Foods and had a picnic in the car at Green-Wood Cemetery. Then it was out into the sunshine for a long jaunt (and my first sunburn of the year) around this beautiful, absolutely giant, and historic burial ground. Around and down, up and over - we found ourselves getting quite the workout with all those hills.

I wish I had consulted a map before heading over there, but I take comfort in the idea that I can visit Green-Wood Cemetery many times in my life. The roads wind around many hills and wend into many valleys before flattening out at the cemetery's far edges. On top of that, I just didn't know where to look for birds. Early in my adventure, I saw a lot of easy targets: robins hopping about on the ground and singing cheery songs, starlings whistling up in the trees, and mockingbirds atop headstones, singing profusely. I also saw one eastern phoebe pumping its little tail and being indecisive about which branch was most comfortable and one house sparrow.

I had the distinct feeling there were thousands of birds around me and I just couldn't see them. Sometimes I feel like such a noob. To make matters worse, a nice lady in a Jeep drove up and asked, "See anything good?" and I replied, "Not yet," which on one hand shows my endless optimism, but on the other hand made me feel a little bit pressured and incompetent because I really hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. Only after I walked a good distance away did it even occur to me that the woman and her companion must also have been birdwatchers (duh) and I could have had a more productive and less awkward response ready (Not yet. Have you?) I have so much to learn!

I saw a mockingbird doing a funny thing with its wings -- run, run, run, stretch a little. Run, run, run, stretch a little. Was he perhaps trying to show a female how broad and bright his wing bars were? In any case, it was an interesting display.

One neat thing about the cemetery is that it plays host to a colony of monk parakeets, who have built a complex nest on the roof of the main gate. I have seen these birds on Ocean Parkway around 18th Avenue and on the campus of Brooklyn College as well. They are noisy and ostentatious. I watched several parakeets return to the nest with new furnishings - twigs and longish grasses, it looked like. I had read that sometimes hawks terrorize the colony, so I made sure to have a look around. I saw something resembling a red-tailed hawk far off, flying away from the gate toward Park Slope. The parakeets were safe for now.

Also by the gate I saw rock doves and three common grackles. After a bathroom break, Chrissy and I felt refreshed and ready for more walking. We visited the mallard pair on the koi pond and then had a sit in the cool, dark chapel. Relaxing music played softly from invisible speakers. That was lovely.

We headed over to a nearby pond and sat on a shady bench to watch the fountain for a few minutes. Some Canada geese dotted the pond's edge, and shortly the mallard pair flew in from their koi pond vacation. I'm glad I stayed put for a few minutes on that bench, because soon I noticed a white dot in a tree across the water. Through my binoculars, I could see that the white dot was surrounded by blue, and yet, the whole picture didn't resemble a blue jay at all. This bird had a different sort of a crest and a big bill. I started to get excited and curious. I watched it flop onto the water and recover itself gracefully a few times - fishing, presumably. I couldn't quite see whether it had caught anything. I took note of a lovely rufous shade on its flanks and a sort of bow-tie area on the chest. My very first belted kingfisher! I had expected it to be smaller from looking at pictures.

We knew it would take ages to find the car, and I had to pick up the kids at 3:00, so my birdwatching adventure ended there. But it's nice to go out with a bang and a new bird after feeling so silly. Next time, I will try to buy a map at the gate!

A Day of Casual Birdwatching

2008-04-06T00:50:00.005-04:00

Gorgeous weather in Brooklyn today - sunny and warm. Chrissy and I headed down to Plum Beach for the first time since last summer - certainly the first time since I became a birdwatcher. A steady ocean breeze battled the strong heat from the sun to make quite a comfortable afternoon by the water. Luck was on our side today; through no planning of our own, we arrived when the tide was out. The water took up what seemed like 2/3 of its high-tide capacity. We walked out to the water's edge and Chrissy claims we were so far out he could see around Kingsborough Community College. I was more interested in the birds. With my new binoculars, about which I am still finding new things to be amazed, I could see a swirling flock of birds that was so far away I couldn't find a trace of it with my naked eye.

I'll warn you -- I'm fairly new at birding, and sparrows and gulls I haven't even begun to study in earnest. I just figured out that all the little brown jobs in Park Slope are house sparrows, so you'll forgive me if my IDs are a little tentative. My eye just skims past flocks of gulls to the next interesting thing, especially if I don't have my field guide or a pen and paper (which I didn't today).

The first bird of note, standing on a sandbar at the water's nearest edge, I'm pretty sure was a great black-backed gull. This thing was sizable. Nearly as big as a goose. I kept my distance. As a gull-related aside, I love to watch a gull wheel up into the air with a clam in its beak and drop the clam onto the packed sand below. Sometimes the gull has to take a second or third try, and it's got to be fast or else another gull will rush in and steal its quarry. After a successful drop, it's like watching a lottery winner get swarmed by distant relatives begging to share in the wealth.

We walked out to the water's farthest edge to get close to some dots I was pretty sure would be birds upon closer inspection. A large flock of brant dotted the water between Plum Beach and Rockaway Point and only a few meandered about on the sandbars. In this area I also saw what I'm fairly sure were red-breasted mergansers - nice, shaggy crest and red bills. I also noticed some tiny buffleheads bobbing up and disappearing in the waves. I'll tell you now, buffleheads hold a special place in my heart and I get unreasonably happy to see them.

While I was peering at the many bobbing dots, I said to Chrissy, "Wouldn't it be funny if the tide came in and we didn't notice?" I peered at dots for a few more minutes and turned around to see that the way I had come out to this sandbar was now separated from the other high areas by a ten foot channel of three inch deep water. Good work. We splashed our way back inland and made our way along the beach, past several abandoned boats, to the other side of the beach that faces Dead Horse Bay. From there with my binocs I had a great view of the biggest group of buffleheads I've seen to date - probably 20. I invented a dance to celebrate.

Turning my attentions away from the sea, I noticed a large white bird relocating within the grasses. I resolved to find it later. Soon I found a bird tormenting a little silvery fish in a marshy pool. It had long, yellow legs, a long, dark, pointy bill, a light body with brownish speckling on head, neck and chest, and a clean whitish belly. My best guess, after consulting Mr. Sibley, is that I saw a lesser yellowlegs.

After navigating more carefully through the grasses than last year, I found a place where I could see the white bird. Long necked, yellow-billed, and sporting graceful breeding plumes on its behind, the great egret seemed to be playing a game of peekaboo with me - ducking down below grass level, popping up, ducking down, popping up somewhere else. It reminded me of that old gag where someone makes it look like he's walking down stairs where we all know there aren't any. That one's a classic.

I also spent a few minutes in Prospect Park today, killing time before work. I only had time to make a circuit around the pools, and didn't see much. One pair of mallards and one pair of ring-necked ducks, a robin, a cardinal, and a bunch of tufted titmice were my haul for that ten-minute period.

We're off to Rhode Island for a few days to attend a family gathering. We'll probably do a letterbox series on the way there tomorrow, and I'll let you know if I see any cool birds. (All birds are cool.)

First Day with New Binocs

2008-04-04T11:43:00.007-04:00

I had checked the weather forecast on Tuesday and found that Thursday would be perfect birding weather. Also I didn't have to start work until 2:30 or so, so Chrissy and I had plenty of time to head to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge in Queens. I couldn't wait to test-drive my new optics. And lucky for me, birds were out in full force. For the first time in my experience, there were actually ospreys on the nest on the pole by the West Pond. Two large black and white birds of prey sat atop the nest, with one occasionally flying down to the ground. I wonder if they've got eggs in there yet.

Next we came to some tree swallow boxes, and those are inhabited now, too! It was my first time seeing tree swallows, and I've come to realize I think they're my favorite flyers. They swoop and glide so gracefully, their blue-green feathers shimmering in the sunlight. I was glad to finally see the bird from the story of Thumbelina. It really seemed to be flying for the fun of it; I admit I got a little jealous. The swallows looked so carefree and playful, and that's how I feel on the inside. I just wish I could express that in such an obvious and joyful way as flying.

Lots of birds on the pond - Canada geese, mallards, scaup, and cormorants in large numbers. I also saw a beautiful pair of northern pintails and a single common goldeneye.

As we came around back toward the visitor center (the part of the walk that feels longest), a pair of Canada geese brazenly blocked our path. I've seen territorial displays and heard nightmare stories about these guys, so I didn't want to take any chances. One of the geese had his neck extended to full height and was tipping his head up and down in a "get out of here" gesture. We tried to advance, but received more warning behavior. Not wanting to disturb them, we backed off a few feet and waited. A few minutes later they had moved mostly off the path and we decided to make a break for it - after all, I didn't want to be late for work. Holding hands, we shot off down the path to the sound of much honking, and turned around to see that we were not being pursued. We laughed at ourselves all the way until we came upon another goose in the path, but this time we ducked into the woodsy paths to leave the goose in peace.

I looked up at the sun with my sunglasses on, and noticed a large ring around the sun which couldn't be seen without the sunglasses. I don't know what it is. I've seen something like that around the moon on a winter's night, but never around the sun.

Eventually I went to work, worked, and got out early - while it was still daylight! So I packed up quickly and headed out to Prospect Park to see if I could find the pair of wood ducks I heard have been hanging out in the Lower Pool. It was about 6:55 p.m. or maybe a little later when I got there, and the light was just beginning to fail. But I raised my new binocs to my eyes and was AMAZED at how much more light those lenses gather than my own two peepers do. Anyway, I walked over to the dog beach where I sometimes feed plain popcorn to ducks, when what to my wondering eyes appears? A pair of wood ducks! I almost clapped I was so happy. I watched them swim off together, and when the male turned his head to glance back at me, I gasped. It was as beautiful as I always hoped (and somehow never believed) it would be. The female was pretty cute too, with that white patch around her eye. I can see why the male would stick with her.

So, all in all, a very successful day of birding - with four or five new life list birds. I'm glad I had a chance to try out my new binocs and that they are so awesome. Comfortable in my hands, light enough, comfy strap, bright and clear and steady. A new phase of birdwatching has begun!

Here I am!

2008-04-03T23:40:00.001-04:00

Welcome to Bluebird of Friendliness, a place to read about and live second-hand my exploits as a novice birder. I use the term "novice" in the same way it refers to new nuns; I have decided to devote my sincerest attentions to my birdlove. Whether I'll go so far as to become an ornithologist, who knows? But I certainly foresee a deep and meaningful relationship blooming between something in my soul and the act of taking time to appreciate birds.

A little about me: I'm twenty-four years old, married almost four years to my best friend and love. We live in Brooklyn, NY, and frequently visit our homeland of distant, exotic Rhode Island to see our loved ones. I work as a nanny here in Brooklyn. I love nothing more than finding and creating adventure, and birdwatching is my newest addition to a growing list of eclectic hobbies - most notably, letterboxing. I have found that the two (birdwatching and letterboxing) are impossible to combine, so I've got to make time for both. I have a degree in writing, literature, and publishing from Emerson College in Boston. I focused my studies there on children's literature and continue to explore the genre as part of my pleasure reading.

A little about my birding origins: When pressed, I cannot pinpoint an exact moment when I suddenly loved birds more than I did in the previous moment. When relaxed, I often remember fondly the first time I saw the bright wing patches of a red-winged blackbird in flight at the Arnold Arboretum in Boston when I was in college.

I have always been interested in animals and the natural world, having been the kind of child to check out books on bees or weather patterns from the library, but I can't think of a factor, a moment, or an event that turned me, irrevocably, into a birdwatcher. As I look back on the stamps we collected while letterboxing in 2007, I find myself saying, "I remember I noticed birds that day," more frequently. I think the change happened sometime in late June or early July, because I remember deciding that I wanted a pair of binoculars for my birthday in September. So I did receive a pair of Eddie Bauer 10x25s from my loving and wonderful mother-in-law, which I used faithfully until my tax rebate arrived this weekend. I just upgraded (thank heavens) to a pair of 8x42s from Minox. I feel like I am birding with new eyes. While my starter pair were light and portable, the Minox are bright and clear. I am looking forward to better birdwatching!

I'm slowly building a library of bird-related materials. The guide I carry is The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America, but I also consult the National Geographic Field Guide to Birds of North America. I actively seek out new bird knowledge in the form of books available through the public library. I carry a small notebook for species lists and observations, and later write entries on each new bird in the National Geographic Birder's Journal my husband gave me for Christmas. I'm also enjoying Bird Songs: 250 North American Birds in Song, and Field Guide to the Natural World of New York City.

I do most of my birding in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, but I've always got eyes to the skies, whether walking from home to the train or from work to pick up the kids at school. I also try to get out to Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge at least once a month.

My biggest downfall as a birdwatcher? I don't get up early. My job only starts at 1:00 p.m., so I sleep as late as I want.

My biggest asset as a watcher of birds? I would say my openness. I want to learn, to see, to have my breath taken away by God's green earth and all its weird and wonderful beauties.

So, again, welcome! And I hope this record proves an interesting exercise for us both.