The Out-of-Towners

Cattle Egret on the prowl

It's migration season! And of course New York City is getting pretty much every type of warbler found in the northeast, just like every Spring. Enjoy them while you can!

But we're also seeing some very unusual visitors. At the top of this post, we have a Cattle Egret--I think the first every seen in Manhattan--who has been hanging around at the Penn South co-op, around 28th Street between 8th and 9th Avenue in Manhattan.

Rare bird and common passers-by

Cattle Egrets are originally an African bird, showed up in South America in the 1950s, and have been steadily extending their range over the last few decades. They're quite common now in the southern US--basically a roadside bird in Florida, for example.

on the move

However, it's rare up north. I believe one shows up at Jamaica Bay or Jones Beach once in a while, but that's all. It's in good breeding plumage--the off-white crown and back feathers--but I don't think it's going to find a mate up here.

Not much of an environment--but enough

The area you see the Cattle Egret in here is (so I understand) having some construction work done on it, but the bird is still around a little farther south, still on the grounds of Penn South. Worth a visit if you're in Manhattan. Keep an eye out for other birds when you're there--there were some warblers about when I visited.

Wild Turkey, Central Park

A Wild Turkey showed up in the North Woods of Central Park a couple of weeks ago. Turkeys are not unknown in the City. I'm told there are some in Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx, and even in Manhattan there are reports occasionally from Inwood Hill. And of course there was Zelda the Battery Park turkey, killed by a car a couple of years back after a long life there. Still, they're pretty rare here.

official vehicle, unofficial bird

I was emerging from the Ramble after an afternoon's birding, and I saw David Barrett looking at something at the edge of the Ramble Maintenance parking area. Surprise! The North Woods turkey had been one the move. We watched the bird scratching through leaves and pecking at the grass for a while, until some idiot chased it across the lawn and it flew up a tree.

I think I'll just stay up here. To heck with you people.

The turkey continued moving south through the park the next day, and wound up at the lawns around Seventh Avenue and 59th Street. I think it's still there--it seems to be smart enough to avoid traffic and dogs.

Least but not last

On Sunday, a Least Bittern was spotted perched high up in a tree over the Gill in the Ramble in Central Park. This small egret is very unusual in this area. I asked long-time bird photographer Peter Post if there had ever been one in Central Park before. He said he had seen one--sixty years ago!

Least Bittern, lurking

There appears to have been one since then, seen by legendary bird guide Starr Sapphire in 1989. But anyway, wow.

Up a tree, by the way, is not where you'd expect to find such a bird. It would like t be down in the tall reeds at the edge of a pond or stream with some tasty fish in it. Alas, reeds are in short supply in Central Park these days. I suspect the bird was waiting for dusk--if all the large mammals would just go away, it would chance a fishing expedition at Azalea Pond.

Anyway, you never know what might turn up in Manhattan.

Prattsville NY, Summer Solstice

On the first weekend of Summer, our friend Gary drove us up to his family's summer house in Prattsville NY, Catskills. It's a lovely place that I've blogged about before.

On the way up, we stopped for lunch at the original Bread Alone shop in Boiceville. Ten minutes looking at the scrubby woods at the edge of the parking lot yielded a Vesper Sparrow along with Carolina Wrens, Common Yellowthroats, and Catbirds.

We arrived in Prattsville with plenty of light left on the longest day of the year. I went for a stroll around the area. As last year, the highlight were the Bobolinks nesting in the hayfields at the nearby crossroads.

There were more than last summer, so I guess they must have done well. For the first time I heard the males singing. The males stayed out of sight until I was walking along teh edge of the field, then they rose up, one or two at a time, giving a wild song like someone tuning an old-fashioned radio. I imagine they were agitated by having a large mammal near the nest site and were trying to draw me away. Before I arrived, a couple of cars went past, and those didn't bother the birds at all.

This was also the first time I got a good look at Bobolink females. They're quite good-looking birds as well, though much more understated than the males.

Both sexes look a little haggard--feathers ruffled, tails a bit ragged.

I went down the road a little. I heard a hoarse deep screaming call in the distance, and then nearer by came an answer--a Raven, who took off from a tree, flying toward the other call.

Something else called nearby like a police whistle. As I peered into the woods to find it, a Turkey Vulture flew in above me and landed briefly in a treetop.

here's the world-famous vulture...

Back at the house, we heard Common Yellowthroats, Song Sparrows, and Chestnut-sided Warblers in the yard, and an Indigo Bunting perched on a wire. In the distance we heard a corvid party--the Ravens, along with crows and Blue Jays calling continuously for a half hour.

On Saturday night came a soaking rain. It finally let up a bit after 7 on Sunday morning, and I went off through the fields. I got good and soaked from the tall, wet grasses, too.

Birdsong was everywhere. Field Sparrow, Song Sparrow, Eastern Towhee. Catbirds sang loudly from deep within the brush. Farther away, a Prairie Warbler sang its rising buzzy song.

Later in the morning, Gary and I walked up the road partway up Bearpen Mountain. Singing Indigo Buntings were everywhere.

A large number of crows were conversing, not too distant but out of sight. We did spot some Wild Turkeys, though.

When we headed back to the house, the Bobolinks were out again.

A bit more rain came in after lunch, and by the time it was over it was time to leave. While packing the car, we heard a loud banging from the old barn.

The Sapsucker Is In

I didn't manage to get a picture of it, but this natty Sapsucker was banging the tin roof of the barn, which resonated nicely. It made a hell of a racket, that is to say, demonstrating to all potential rivals that the resident Sapsucker was on his territory and not to be messed around with.