'tis the season (for warbler neck)

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

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

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

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

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.