Crows and Sparrows from NYC to British Columbia

Many of the birds we saw on our trip to British Columbia have counterparts back east, whether the same species or a closely related species.

A male White-throated sparrow surveys the area in Riverside Park, New York.

White-throated sparrow.

 This little fellow was singing up a storm about two weeks ago, fluttering in not-yet leafy bushes and shrubs quite low to the ground. Here he seems to be giving me the old stink-eye from beneath his extraordinary yellow “eyebrows”.

Below is a male golden-crowned sparrow in Garden Bay, British Columbia.

Here he is again in the same location, but on a brighter day. Look how much paler and less gray his throat and breast appear below. The golden-crowned sparrow is found only along the Pacific coast, while the white-throated ranges over much of the continent.

Crows are found all over the continent. Back in March, this group of common crows was delightedly bathing and playing in a large puddle in Riverside Park. (If you place cursor over image below, arrows will appear so you can click through the slide show.) There were five or six crows, but they flew off by ones and twos, eventually leaving just one crow to wallow in the puddle.

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Back in the late 70s, I co-founded a theater in Portland, Oregon called Crows & Roses Theater Project. Portland has long been known as the “City of Roses,” but for us, it was the “City of Crows and Roses.” Turns out crows abound all over the Pacific Northwest, and are extremely successfully at adapting to suburban and urban environments.

For a fascinating discussion of urban crows, inspired and anchored by the author’s observations of crows in her Seattle neighborhood, read Crow Planet by Lyanda Lynn Haupt.

In British Columbia, crows are everywhere.

A crow fans its tail as it looks over the harbor.

Here is a sunlit crow.

Below, a crow perches high on a barren tree.

Or could the bird below possibly be a raven? I heard ravens frequently in the woods, and saw them on several occasions calling and flying. I also heard one making a kind of strange high-pitched constant call as it flew that I had never heard before.

Yet another crow engaged in a turf battle with a gull in the harbor. When it circled up to this tree, its feathers looked quite a bit the worse for wear.

It repeatedly soared down to the rocks at the water’s edge.

But if the gull became aggressive, it took off and lit on the tree.

Then it would fly back down. Must have been some good seafood down there.

A Canada goose also figured in the scenario.

The goose was mostly left to its own devices, ignored by gull and crow, even when it mounted the rocks.

Back in Vancouver, a flock of crows mingled with a mallard and a coot at the water’s edge.

I wondered if any of the crows I saw were Northwestern crows rather than American crows. Northwestern crows, which are found only along the upper Pacific coast, are described as being slightly smaller than the American crow. They specialize in scavenging along shorelines. My guidebook claims they are most easily distinguished by their lower-pitched, hoarser voices. Next time, I’ll listen more closely.

Eagles and Hummingbirds of British Columbia

Bald eagles abounded on our recent trip up the British Columbia coast.

This beautiful bird was sitting on a body of fresh water in an area that looks to me like a beaver dam.

Another closer look.

We saw many eagles on the wing. With a wingspan of nearly seven feet, they are an impressive sight.

And for a size contrast, we also observed several rufous hummingbirds whose wingspan reaches a magnificent 4 1/2 inches.

We saw these tiny, brilliant creatures at a nectar feeder, and darting out over a road to capture insects.  Several times, the hum of those rapidly beating wings alerted me to the bird’s presence before I registered it visually. According to Journey North, hummingbirds beat their wings at a rate of about 75 beats per second.

Here a rufous hummingbird sips nectar from the feeder.

And here’s a lovely view from the vicinity in which we saw the hummingbird zoom back and forth over the road.

Happy May Day

Happy May!

Phil, the white peacock of Saint John the Divine.

People, flowers, wildlife and pets are out in force.

Art meets cherry trees on the grounds of St John’s.

Fine weather to sit with your dogs.

Sitting in the shade with the dogs.

Or your birds.

A bird cage with six parakeets becomes mobile atop a laundry cart.

Here’s a closer look at one of six happy parakeets on their outing to the river.

Oh, what a pretty bird.

Fine weather, too, for human lovebirds.

On the Greenway by the Hudson in Riverside Park.

Or for sitting alone near the forsythia.

On the retaining wall of Riverside Park.

Wherever you go and whomever you’re with, keep an eye out for color.

Tulips in Riverside Park.

And enjoy the flowers before they go.

Magnolia carpet in Riverside Park.

The brief life of flowers, and the word “enjoy,”puts me in mind of William Blake’s poem, Eternity:

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity’s sun rise.

Happy May!

Douglas Squirrel in Garden Bay, British Columbia

One of my favorite easily-observed creatures in British Columbia is the Douglas squirrel, sometimes called the chickaree.

Much smaller than New York City’s hefty Eastern gray squirrels, the Douglas is a tree squirrel found from California to the southern British Columbia coast.

Like most squirrels, it uses its front paws quite charmingly to hold nuts and other food. There’s just something about its small size, big eyes, and overall demeanor that give it the look of a storybook character.

Douglas squirrels eat primarily the seeds of the coniferous trees that abound in this area: Douglas firs, of course, but also Sitka spruce and pines. Like the Eastern gray and many other squirrels, they are scatter hoarders, burying seeds or entire pine cones in various spots. But unlike the Eastern gray, Douglas squirrels have no cheek pouches for holding food.

They have high-pitched voices that pierce the forest, and sound remarkably like a bird. On several occasions, I scanned tree limbs, trying to determine what bird was so persistently peeping, only to discover that I was being yelled at by a squirrel.

Below is a fascinating two-minute sound clip from NPR’s “Bird Notes” on the Douglas squirrel. Just click the arrow to play:

The little fellow In these photographs hung out near the pedestrian bridge that connects the harbor to Garden Bay Road. Below you may be able to make out the squirrel perched on the fence rail to the right of the tree.

It was often seen in the company of a golden-crowned sparrow.

The two seemed to be masters of their own bathing and drinking pool.

We humans, however, need more sustenance than pine cones and water, or even wildlife sightings. Tearing myself away from the little animals, I crossed the bridge.

Soon I was happily drinking coffee and eating breakfast at Laverne’s Grill.

Ahhhh. Repletion.

Back outside, bald eagles soared overhead (more on them soon).

And the little squirrel went about its squirrely business.

It’s April in NYC, Let’s Ditch the Plow

Here are two favorite spring posts from years past:
NYC Signs of Spring: Red-tails Nest and Mr. Softee Sings
Two-Eyed Prophecy of Spring

April in Morningside Heights. Time to …

Raise the plow.

Raise the plow on 110th and Columbus.

Wait a minute. “Raise the plow?!” It’s April, people, let’s just ditch the freaking plow!

Time to go to the laundromat. Apparently, it’s been a long winter.

Time to show some baseball love.

Time to play ball.

Or learn to play ball.

Time to kayak the Hudson.

Time to fight.

These two male mallards were seriously going at each other.

Hormones are raging in the spring, and there seem to be many unattached male mallards hanging around in Morningside Pond, getting into trouble.

Time to cuddle. Those hormones, you know.

And when you look this fine, it’s always time to strut your stuff.

Phil, one of three resident peacocks at the Cathedral of St John the Divine

 

Peeking, Lolling Raccoon

Just before sunset yesterday, someone was peeking out of the main raccoon den in the Riverside Park retaining wall.

First a nose.

Then an ear and an eye.

and finally most of the masked face.

As we watched, that someone started lolling about in the entrance.Look at that hand, er, I mean paw.

Here is the track of a raccoon in the mud of the ravine in Central Park.

Hmm. Reminds me of the 32,000 year old handprints in the Cave of Chauvet.

But back to the lolling peeker.

Interesting to note that there appears to be no tag on the raccoon’s ear, which means it was not vaccinated during the rabies epidemic of 2010. It may not yet have been born.

We headed down to the river to catch the afterglow of the sunset.

A father and daughter gazed across the river.

Some cherry trees are in bloom, while others remain bare.

We checked back at the den after dark, before leaving the park. Someone was still peeking.

NYC Dolphins in Hudson River

Two days ago, on Sunday April 7th, a reader named Jane posted a comment on a blog post from last summer:

“I was out riding my bicycle this afternoon and took a break on a bench along the Greenway at about 96th Street … and saw two dolphins leap out of the water, one following the other!”

I contacted Jane on Sunday evening to find out more. She wrote that she had never heard of dolphins being spotted in NYC, and was stunned.  Apparently her friends did not believe her, so she searched the internet “to prove I’m not crazy!” That’s how she found this blog.

Jane saw the dolphins swimming north around 3:30 or 4:00 pm. Apparently, they stayed the night, because on Monday morning, according to CBS News, two dolphins were spotted off Inwood Hill Park. They were later reported swimming south toward the George Washington Bridge.

Two dolphins were spotted in the Hudson River near Inwood Hill Park Monday. (Credit: CBS 2)

CBS News quoted John Lipscomb of Riverkeeper on the recent appearances of dolphins, “What we’re seeing right here under our noses is the wilderness; it’s like having the Serengeti off of 125th Street. It’s awesome, and it reminds us of the beauty of all of this life.”

I was down by the river twice on Sunday, but saw no dolphins, although last month, I had the marvelous experience of watching the East River dolphin in action.

For more on NYC’s dolphins:

Watching NYC’s East River Dolphin
Dolphin Spotted in East River
Watching the Watchers of the East River DolphinKeep Wild Dolphins Wild
Hudson River Dolphin
Hudson River Dolphin is Dead

Raccoon Carries Baby in Riverside Park

Last night I saw something I’d never seen before: a mother raccoon carrying her tiny baby in her mouth.

The photos, sadly, are blurry. My camera had run out of battery, so I had only my iPhone, which doesn’t do well in low light.

I entered the park just as the sun was setting over the Hudson River.

I scanned the great retaining wall for raccoons.

The setting sun illuminated the entrance to a den, but no animals were visible.

We walked south for a while, then returned to take another look at the wall. A short distance from the primary den, a raccoon was moving on the wall, carrying something in its mouth. My first thought, oddly, perhaps, was that it was carrying some kind of prey. But no, this was a baby raccoon, dangling from the mother’s mouth twenty feet above the ground.

The mother carried it gingerly along the wall. At last, she ducked into a hole and disappeared.  Loud, deep growling sounds came from the wall. Clearly the hole was occupied. It sounded like pigs grunting. I worried that the baby might be injured by the surly host.

The dog, tied up a short distance away, was fascinated by the rather alarming sounds.

After some time, the mother emerged, the baby still dangling from her mouth, and continued heading north along the wall. It’s not easy to walk on that wall, even without a baby in your mouth. She went almost all the way to the top.

 I could see the head of a pedestrian who strolled along the uppermost promenade, unaware of of the raccoons just a few feet below. Then the mother carefully made her way down the great wall until she reached the ground. Skirting the base of the wall, she continued north on all fours, moving much faster than she could on the vertical surface of the wall.

I left the mother and her baby to their night’s journey. I am guessing that, for whatever reason, she was seeking out a new den, or perhaps, a second den. I hope she found what she was looking for. If there were other babies to be moved, I hope she managed to go back and get them all safely settled. No matter how much wildlife behavior we are lucky enough to observe, there is so much more that goes on unobserved. Mystery remains, even deepens, and every observation raises new questions that keep me coming back to the park, and back to the animals.

I believe this is the mother raccoon, seen here ten days ago.

Good luck, mama.

For much more on New York City’s raccoons, see the raccoon archives.

1 Rm Riv Vu, NYC Wildlife Edition

New York City’s wildlife sometimes hit the real estate jackpot. Yes, while many humans can no longer afford to live in Manhattan, the birds and raccoons are doing just fine. Many even enjoy sunset views like this one over the Hudson River.

Some animals prefer traditional pre-war living environments in which to raise their families.

Others enjoy a more modern situation. Some sparrows prefer the bustle of Mondrian-inspired scaffolding. (Sadly, the birds are not visible in this photo.)

Others find that modern materials can be used to create a cozy, neighborly feel.

And for the lucky elite, luxury urban dwellings abound. The beautifully detailed statues adorning the entry way to the Synod House at St John the Divine provide temporary housing for generations of house sparrows.

Look for the nests.

And for private living with sweeping city views, the red-tailed hawks of St. John’s have it made.

Diving Duck Blues

As I walked along the river, I saw a disheveled, punky little fellow gliding north along the shoreline. A male red-breasted merganser.

He glided, then dove, glided, then dove. Most of the time, I only caught the ripples.

Then I’d have to wait, and scour the area to see where the little fellow would pop up next.

This was a very active bird, who seemed to be enjoying life. I wondered what he was hunting down there. If he caught anything, I didn’t see it. But I did finally catch a few dives.

The dives are extremely fast. One moment the bird is floating along, the next moment it’s gone. I hope these shots convey a sense of the speed and power of the dives.

That “hair” just won’t stay down.

On my way back, about half a mile south, I spotted the female of the pair.

She was serene, gliding along and not diving at all.

The mergansers put me in mind of Diving Duck Blues:

“If the river was whiskey and I was a diving duck,
I’d dive to the bottom, and I’d never come up.”

Maybe that’s what was getting the little merganser so excited.
Listen to Taj Mahal tell you about it:

How To Build an Urban Hawk Nest

As I walked on Morningside Avenue this morning, a red-tailed hawk swooped in and landed high on the back of the Cathedral of St John the Divine. (Its tail is toward the viewer.)

I missed the moments before it landed, but saw that it was carrying something. It appeared to wrestle with its prey, as if attempting to subdue it.

Oh, I see. Its ‘prey’ was a piece of a cardboard box or, perhaps, a paper bag. Nesting material.

Soon the bird flew off, clutching the prize in its beak rather than its talons. (Look at those outstretched legs and talons, and that red tail.)

It landed on its nearby nest, spent a little time tucking the cardboard into place, and then flew off, heading in a northwesterly direction.

From deep inside the nest, unseen from my vantage point far below, a second hawk, probably the female, known as Isolde, now adjusted the cardboard which is easily visible to the left of Saint Andrew’s head.

(Note also the long strands of some kind of string hanging off the right side of the nest. This is new in the past few days, and it worries me, since birds can easily become entangled in string, and suffer injury.)

The cardboard was pulled deeper into the interior until it could no longer be seen.

And all was quiet on the broad shoulders of good Saint Andrew.

Dabblers On the Hudson

Black Duck on the Hudson

A week or so ago, Esau and I walked along the Manhattan shore of the Hudson River between 100th Street and 116th Street. Flotsam and jetsam littered the rocks.

I expect to see a mallard pair or two when I walk by the river. And so I did. The female below nibbled away on the moss that covered the rocks down at the water’s edge.

She’d nibble and nibble, then lift her head to swallow.

The male floated nearby as did a huge plank.

I did not expect to see the gorgeous pair of black ducks that were hanging out not too far away.

I didn’t know what they were until I got home and looked them up. I just knew they were stunning with their subtle plumage and elegant postures.

The male was nibbling on moss.

The female nibbled on herself.

More accurately, she preened and seemed to be dealing with bird lice or another of the many small parasites that beset wild birds. While some bird lice are generalists that can feast on any part of the bird’s body, others species specialize in particular areas of the bird. A bird may be infested with wing lice, head lice, body lice, and so on, not to mention mites and other creatures. Without hands, a nibble with your bill is your best bet for scratching the itch.

I’m starting to feel a little itchy myself.

Whew, finished preening.

And what a beauty.

Next up: Divers on the Hudson looks at a pair of hyper-active, punked-out red-breasted mergansers.

For more on dabbling ducks in New York:
Sex and the City Bird
Fresh Ducklings and Growing Goslings in Morningside Park
NYC Mallards Court on Halloween

Black Squirrel in NYC

 A year ago, I went hunting for black squirrels in Central Park, but to no avail. Then in  January,  I finally spotted one as I walked along the south side of Washington Square Park. It was dusk and I only had my iPhone, so the photos I took that evening are blurry, as you can see below.

Last week, I was again walking along the south side of Washington Square, keeping my eyes open for a black squirrel.  I watched a fat robin for a while.

And then I saw a solitary black squirrel, sitting on a bench with a snack.

The squirrel soon hopped down into a little clearing, where it joined the robin and a gray squirrel.

The black squirrel seemed to be keeping the gray on its toes. Several times it dashed toward the gray, making it run.

Black squirrels have a bizarre anecdotal reputation for being more aggressive than grays. This is peculiar, since black squirrels are grays. They are not a separate species, but a color morph of Sciuris carolinensis, the Eastern gray squirrel. Yet there seems to be a belief that along with the color mutation has come a personality shift. In the UK, where gray squirrels are considered an invasive species, both grays and blacks are reviled for causing a worrisome decline in the population of native red squirrels. The larger gray squirrel out-competes the red squirrel for habitat and has infected it with “squirrel pox,” a disease for which the red has no immunity.

But black squirrels commonly seen as aggressive even to gray squirrels. It does seem to be true that the population of black squirrels in the UK is growing faster than that of the gray squirrel, but scientists have no clear answer for why this should be. Researchers have begun assembling a black squirrel DNA data base to  to try to learn more.

Meanwhile, I’m simply thrilled to watch this beautiful little animal.

NYC’s Riverside Park Raccoons Emerge

By the end of winter, I’m missing my regular sightings of Riverside Park’s raccoons.

There are a couple of reasons I don’t see raccoons in winter as often as the rest of the year. The first reason is my schedule. Dusk comes so early I’m rarely in the park at the right time to see these nocturnal creatures emerge from their den in the retaining wall. The second reason is that raccoons tend to be less active in the coldest months and, during the coldest days, may stay curled up in the den rather than venturing out to feed and explore.

By mid-March, days are longer and daylight savings time means that dusk comes well after 7 PM. I’m happy to report I’m seeing raccoons again. (Please forgive some blurry photos – it was pretty dark, and I’ve had to enhance the images to make the raccoon clearly visible.)

On Sunday night, a solitary raccoon lumbered along the wall. I was struck by the pale, silvery color of its front legs and paws.

It seemed to be moving rather more slowly and clumsily than usual.

But it eventually made its way to its destination.

And disappeared into a hole. Look to the right of the large hole to see the tail.

Based on sightings from past years, there are certainly other raccoons in the wall. Before Manhattan’s raccoon rabies epidemic of 2009-2010, I once saw five or six raccoons emerge from a single hole in the wall. In recent years, I’ve seen no more than three. And this winter, I’ve seen only one at a time.

But spring is coming, and I’ll be watching.

Spring Celebration: Urban Birds Makin’ Whoopee

It’s spring, and the air is filled with romance.

In honor of all the exciting animal activity going on in the city, here is a brief Urban Wildlife Valentine from Out Walking the Dog.

Enjoy!

This video was originally posted on Valentine’s Day, 2012.

For more on the love life of urban birds:
Sex and the City Bird
Sex and the Pigeon
The Pigeons Outside my Window