Hooded Merganser at the Reservoir
Bufflehead at the Reservoir
Wood Duck at The Pond of Central Park
The Mandarin, also at The Pond
It's incredible what you can see if you just look.
Cheers.
Wednesday, November 28, 2018
The Duck, part deux...
The natural companion for my previous post would be pictures of the ducks I did wind up seeing. So, if a picture is worth 1,000 words, here's a quick 4,000 words or so on both that day, and the day when my son and I returned to NYC and found the Central Park mandarin, now nicknamed the Mandarin Patinkin (hello, my name is Indigo Montoya...). All photos are by me. If you're interested in purchasing one, let me know.
Monday, November 19, 2018
The Duck
It's been a long time since I've last blogged, but I thought, with the approaching holiday season, some informal well-wishing on my part might be welcomed. And, an anecdote, always an anecdote.
Firstly, whether you celebrate American Thanksgiving (yes there are other Thanksgivings; thanks Canada), or not, whether you eat turkey or something else, before I get too too busy with the Holiday season, let me first wish you a Happy Holidays. This isn't a war on Christmas, in fact, if Christmas is your holiday of choice, then I wish you a happy one. And, if not, then you get to pick what holiday I'm pleased as punch that you celebrate, whether that's Hanukkah or Saturnalia, the recently passed Diwali or Kwanzaa, I wish you a happy and a healthy end of the calendar year, and to borrow and paraphrase from an Irish blessing, may the best day of this year be your worst day of next year.
Especially in this political climate.
So, there's this duck (I told you there would be an anecdote) in Central Park right now. I'm sure you've heard of it: the Mandarin Duck (Aix galericulata) that lives in the heart of New York City. How'd it get there? No one knows, but it's banded, and if ever caught, that might shed some light on its origins. We know a couple of things for certain, one: it's originally from eastern China or Japan (or maybe the UK where it was introduced in the 18th century, but escaped captivity and started breeding in the wild in the 1930's); two: that it's been a Manhattan resident for nearly a month now, with periodic sightings; and three: it would certainly be the arch nemesis of Iron Duck (thanks Stan Lee, we'll miss you). One thing is for sure, due to its bright coloration, it's gorgeous and quite unusual, which is why, after thanking my Veterans, I went to Central Park to find this duck.
There's a number of different ways to find this proverbial Asian needle in the haystack. The first is to canvass the entire park (pun: evoking images of Christo and Jeanne-Claude, but I digress). Not likely possible in my one day in the city. Enter Twitter, knower of all things. Mr. David Barrett maintains the @birdcentralpark Twitter feed where he announces the locations of birds of interest in Central Park, based, likely, on the hive mind of New York City's birders. The day I went was the second or third day that a Barred Owl decided to rest in the Ramble section of the park (north of the Lake, but South of Turtle Pond and Belvedere Castle). Off I went. Sure enough, perched high above the paths, was the Barred Owl, in a tree on the south west corner of Azalia Pond, and not caring that 5 or 6 of us at 12:30p were staring up at it.
It was there I met Ben and several other birders including D. Bruce Yolton who runs the Urban Hawks blog. A few of us tried to see if we could get a better viewing angle as it was facing away from us. No dice. There's only so many pictures of an owl's butt you can take before it gets tiresome. Ben was headed up to the reservoir, would I like to go? He had never seen a hooded merganser and there was rumor some were along the edges near the paths. Of course I said yes and we went.
Along the way we stopped at Turtle Pond, one of the sites where the Mandarin had been spotted days before. No luck on the mandarin, but there were northern shovelers, males and a female, heads down in the water, swimming in a circle and (likely) digging up invertebrates to eat from the bottom of the pond. There were more birders there, each with binoculars dangling from their necks, each asking the others "Did you see him?" and the response "he's been missing since last Friday." [he's since resurfaced].
From there as we walked, we saw brown creepers, wrens, red-bellied woodpeckers, nuthatches, titmice, all manner of sparrows, loads of blue-jays, ruby-crowned kinglets and a pair of red-tailed hawks, circling above the north meadow (I suspect). When we got to the reservoir, there were several other enthusiasts with their gear, taking shots of the couple hundred ducks swimming right next to the path. No mandarin, but there were loads of ruddy ducks, more shovelers, buffleheads (a personal favorite) and, yes, Ben got to see his hooded mergansers, male and female, about a dozen all in a group. Finding these birds was the perfect meld of technology and nature. Twitter had us at absolutely the right spot at the right time.
After a while, Ben had his fill of the mergs (the female is the Tina Turner of ducks) and we bid each other goodbye as he was headed north, and I wanted another look at the barred owl I retraced my steps the way I came to see if the Mandarin surfaced at any of the places I had already looked. No luck on that, but I did notice something else: this community I stumbled into, it was like a secret society of birders, and we were all in on the hunt. From the rollerblading dude at the Turtle Pond to the old lady with the brand new Nikon spy-glasses he was talking to, we were all speaking the same language, discussing what we had seen recently that was cool and what we'd like to have seen (in addition to the mandarin). There was no discussion of race or economic class. There was no argument about liberal and conservative values (though I'm sure everyone had an opinion about global warming, it's a thing, look it up), there was just the birds. While I had just arrived to see what I could see on my own personal mission, I was immediately accepted and looked upon as an equal, and spoken to with respect and dignity without prejudice. It got to the point where, as I crossed from one area to another within the park, the other birders, recognizing that I was packing some serious birding gear, waved to me as if to say "I know why you're here, you're part of my tribe and I hope you find what you're looking for. Best wishes!"
And that's what I wish all of you this holiday season. Friends and families can be stressful, but we're all part of the same club. I wish that you all can find the same acceptance that I was able to find, regardless of politics and preconceived notions. At the end of this fairly stressful part of the year, I hope you can appreciate someone who you know is going through the same event, with similar intentions, and that you can wave at that person with the attitude that we're all in this together. In this culture of divisive arguments, I hope you have a calm and understanding approach to the holidays where most people's intent is good.
So, Happy Holidays, and I know why you're here, you're part of my tribe, and I hope you find what you're looking for this Thanksgiving. Best wishes!
Firstly, whether you celebrate American Thanksgiving (yes there are other Thanksgivings; thanks Canada), or not, whether you eat turkey or something else, before I get too too busy with the Holiday season, let me first wish you a Happy Holidays. This isn't a war on Christmas, in fact, if Christmas is your holiday of choice, then I wish you a happy one. And, if not, then you get to pick what holiday I'm pleased as punch that you celebrate, whether that's Hanukkah or Saturnalia, the recently passed Diwali or Kwanzaa, I wish you a happy and a healthy end of the calendar year, and to borrow and paraphrase from an Irish blessing, may the best day of this year be your worst day of next year.
Especially in this political climate.
There's a number of different ways to find this proverbial Asian needle in the haystack. The first is to canvass the entire park (pun: evoking images of Christo and Jeanne-Claude, but I digress). Not likely possible in my one day in the city. Enter Twitter, knower of all things. Mr. David Barrett maintains the @birdcentralpark Twitter feed where he announces the locations of birds of interest in Central Park, based, likely, on the hive mind of New York City's birders. The day I went was the second or third day that a Barred Owl decided to rest in the Ramble section of the park (north of the Lake, but South of Turtle Pond and Belvedere Castle). Off I went. Sure enough, perched high above the paths, was the Barred Owl, in a tree on the south west corner of Azalia Pond, and not caring that 5 or 6 of us at 12:30p were staring up at it.
It was there I met Ben and several other birders including D. Bruce Yolton who runs the Urban Hawks blog. A few of us tried to see if we could get a better viewing angle as it was facing away from us. No dice. There's only so many pictures of an owl's butt you can take before it gets tiresome. Ben was headed up to the reservoir, would I like to go? He had never seen a hooded merganser and there was rumor some were along the edges near the paths. Of course I said yes and we went.
Along the way we stopped at Turtle Pond, one of the sites where the Mandarin had been spotted days before. No luck on the mandarin, but there were northern shovelers, males and a female, heads down in the water, swimming in a circle and (likely) digging up invertebrates to eat from the bottom of the pond. There were more birders there, each with binoculars dangling from their necks, each asking the others "Did you see him?" and the response "he's been missing since last Friday." [he's since resurfaced].
From there as we walked, we saw brown creepers, wrens, red-bellied woodpeckers, nuthatches, titmice, all manner of sparrows, loads of blue-jays, ruby-crowned kinglets and a pair of red-tailed hawks, circling above the north meadow (I suspect). When we got to the reservoir, there were several other enthusiasts with their gear, taking shots of the couple hundred ducks swimming right next to the path. No mandarin, but there were loads of ruddy ducks, more shovelers, buffleheads (a personal favorite) and, yes, Ben got to see his hooded mergansers, male and female, about a dozen all in a group. Finding these birds was the perfect meld of technology and nature. Twitter had us at absolutely the right spot at the right time.
After a while, Ben had his fill of the mergs (the female is the Tina Turner of ducks) and we bid each other goodbye as he was headed north, and I wanted another look at the barred owl I retraced my steps the way I came to see if the Mandarin surfaced at any of the places I had already looked. No luck on that, but I did notice something else: this community I stumbled into, it was like a secret society of birders, and we were all in on the hunt. From the rollerblading dude at the Turtle Pond to the old lady with the brand new Nikon spy-glasses he was talking to, we were all speaking the same language, discussing what we had seen recently that was cool and what we'd like to have seen (in addition to the mandarin). There was no discussion of race or economic class. There was no argument about liberal and conservative values (though I'm sure everyone had an opinion about global warming, it's a thing, look it up), there was just the birds. While I had just arrived to see what I could see on my own personal mission, I was immediately accepted and looked upon as an equal, and spoken to with respect and dignity without prejudice. It got to the point where, as I crossed from one area to another within the park, the other birders, recognizing that I was packing some serious birding gear, waved to me as if to say "I know why you're here, you're part of my tribe and I hope you find what you're looking for. Best wishes!"
And that's what I wish all of you this holiday season. Friends and families can be stressful, but we're all part of the same club. I wish that you all can find the same acceptance that I was able to find, regardless of politics and preconceived notions. At the end of this fairly stressful part of the year, I hope you can appreciate someone who you know is going through the same event, with similar intentions, and that you can wave at that person with the attitude that we're all in this together. In this culture of divisive arguments, I hope you have a calm and understanding approach to the holidays where most people's intent is good.
So, Happy Holidays, and I know why you're here, you're part of my tribe, and I hope you find what you're looking for this Thanksgiving. Best wishes!
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