B.A.R.B. at SongStar
Reports
Sat., 1/15/05, 10:30a.m.–4p.m.;
Central Park meeting point: Tavern on the Green, 66th St. and Central Park West,
NYC.
As a new member of the group, Richard suggested that I submit this report on
the trip to Central Park. Richard, Joan and I arrived from CT first, followed
shortly by Dotty and Hank, up from FL, and Claudia and Jim, over from NJ. Soon
we were joined by Dotty’s sister Betty and friend Helena from LI. No doubt in
honor of Dotty’s arrival, we were also met by Lloyd Spitalnik (alerted to
Dotty’s presence by Marie Winn), one of New York’s premier birders, and
photographer Cal Vornberger, whose photo book The Birds of Central Park
is about to be released.
Even with all this fire power, let me say upfront, we didn’t find the
Boreal Owl. We looked in all its usual haunts near the Tavern on the Green,
across the street in a tall Spruce, and right alongside the restaurant. However,
you can see some beautiful photos of the Owl on Cal’s web site:
www.calvorn.com.
The day was nevertheless filled with delights, not the least of which was the
high spirits and good company of everyone present, despite the cold weather (the
sun did nothing to warm the air and some were grateful to Joan for bringing
heating packs for cold hands). While “waiting” for the Boreal near the Tavern,
we saw a Hermit Thrush hopping on the ground, flicking its tail, as
though it were a spring day; a very busy Yellow-bellied Sapsucker,
obviously at home in his much-drilled tree; two roosting, possibly immature,
Red-tailed Hawks; and the usual House Sparrows, European
Starlings, Rock Pigeons, Blue Jays, and a woman with pure dark
purple hair. We also saw three Buteos, perhaps more Red-tails, soaring
high above the park.
Fortified
with cups of hot coffee that Claudia and Hank found during a fearless trek down
Central Park West, we followed Lloyd’s suggestion to visit feeders in the
Ramble, just beyond the Boathouse Cafe. So we bundled up (Joan was particularly
good at tucking in Dotty’s blanket around her wheelchair, and no one moved until
Hank got over the feeling that he might still be in Florida and actually put on
a wool hat that he and Dotty had purchased in Alaska; though Jim never did put
on a hat or gloves). This hardy group then proceeded to follow Lloyd and Cal
through the Park, marveling at all the dog walkers, and joggers, and joggers
with dogs, and joggers with baby strollers, and, well, you get the idea.
We stopped for lunch at the Boathouse Cafe (thank heaven Lloyd knew that we
didn’t have to order in the “gourmet” corner of the Cafe, because there’s a
snack bar where we found hot dogs, chili and chicken soup.) This is also the
corner of the Café where the Central Park bird log lives, and it noted that
someone had seen the Boreal Owl 1/14/05 “in the usual haunts.”
Thus warmed and rested, we walked over to the Ramble feeders. They’re
wonderful home-made affairs: about 20 suspended plastic bottles with frisbee
squirrel baffles and square holes big enough to act as sort of fly-in eateries
for the Titmice. We also saw Dark-eyed Juncos and Black-capped
Chickadees to Dotty’s southern delight; and House Finches, Mourning Doves,
two gorgeous active Fox Sparrows (red race), White-breasted
Nuthatches and a Red-breasted Nuthatch, a lifer for me (as was the
Hermit Thrush). We also saw male Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers
at suet bags—and Joan noticed something new for many of us. The red on the Hairy’s head is split into two patches, whereas the red on a Downy’s head is one
single patch.
By this time, many in the group were beginning to acknowledge the cold, and
started moving back toward the Boathouse, but not before Helena and Cal
discovered they had mutual friends in the opera world. Lloyd and Cal then went
off to find a Savannah Sparrow elsewhere in the Ramble (there was also
talk of Long-eared and Saw-whet Owls in the Shakespeare Garden;
and a Harris’s Sparrow in the public park in Baldwin, Long Island).
Everyone else made their way back to civilization, except Joan, Richard and
me. We were dragging our feet, admiring an earnest young pointer who was
stalking some squirrels, when the squirrels suddenly went berserk. A pale
Red-tail had flown in to perch, in elegant profile, a few yards in front of
us where he stayed for maybe ten minutes. The smaller birds were calling loudly,
and the squirrels did the darndest thing. We saw five of them run up a tree near
the hawk (on the opposite side from him, as though to hide) where they
froze like refrigerator magnets on the trunk of the tree. They didn’t move a
muscle, although Joan thought she heard a couple of them whining. And the hawk
just sat there, rotating or cocking his head occasionally, but he didn’t seem to
be hunting. Joan set up the scope and we could see that this was a mature
Red-Tail, with dark eyes and red tail, but also with that very pale head and
breast. However, the three of us couldn’t say whether it was Pale Male or not
because we’ve heard that a couple of his offspring are pale too (and many of
them have chosen to live in Central Park rather than migrate). But this was a
raptor at home, perhaps a King on his turf, who knows. He finally flew off after
Joan had given several grateful passersby a look in the scope; and Richard got
some photos. We then hurried to join the group warming up in the Boathouse.
Reunited, we walked back through the Park, making one detour because some
stairs near Bethesda Fountain would have challenged the gallant Claudia who
insisted on having the honor of pushing her mother-in-law’s wheelchair all day.
Richard pointed out some Mallards in the lake (which Dotty eagerly checked out
lest they be “true” Mallards and not some sort of hybrid). We continued past one
of two remaining allees of mature Elm trees in the U.S., past the Sheep
Meadow with none of the usual sunbathers, past yet more joggers, and so back to
the Tavern and our various cars.
Everyone was looking forward to meeting Chuck and others the next day in
NJ for the Long-eared Owls. Sadly I had a prior engagement, but I’m sure it was
another wonderful birding day—though not too wonderful for those who couldn’t
go.
Dotty and Hank's Quest for the Long-Eared Owl
B.A.R.B.
at SongStar
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Copyright © 2005 by Sylvia Alexander and
Richard L. Becker