Over the past two weeks, I have twice strolled across Central Park to the Conservatory Gardens to see the blossoms.
I’d like to go again today, but with temperatures going up to the 70s, there will be too many people to easily maintain social distance.
So today, I’ll walk vicariously by sharing these photos with you.
Let’s enter the Gardens through the grand gated entrance at Fifth Avenue and 105th Street.
There are spirals on either side of the iron gates.
A wisteria-drenched pergola at the western end is not yet in bloom but already lovely.
Inside the gates, there are three gardens, Italian, English and French in style. Here’s a taste of what lies inside…
Click on any photo below to see it larger and to click through the gallery.
Romance blooms between the dancers.
Glorious.
Blossoms like fallen snow
Still tulips.
Fallen blossoms.
Bright, sweet.
Bandit in the Garden.
A closer look.
A mesmerizing allée.
I left the gardens and ambled down Fifth Avenue.
Not Art. Good to know.
Let’s look a little closer at what is Not Art.
Hello, I am not art either.
I took a look at the field hospital set up in Central Park’s East Meadow by an evangelical not-for-profit called Samaritan’s Purse. Partnering with Mount Sinai Hospital across Fifth Avenue, the field hospital has treated over 300 COVID-19 patients, but will be closing down its NYC operations and leaving under a cloud of controversy.
The organization’s leader Franklin Graham, son of preacher Billy Graham and a staunch ally of President Trump, has repeatedly made homophobic and anti-Muslim statements. And although the organization maintains it does not discriminate, medical personnel are required to sign a “declaration of faith” that opposes same-sex marriage. According to Gothamist, ‘Graham has previously said that homosexuals will burn in the “flames of hell,” described Islam as “wicked and evil,” and railed against the “transgender lie.”‘
Oy vey. Can I just receive my charity straight up, no chaser, please?
Back inside the park (whew), I saw a multitude of robins on the hunt for earthworms. Some worked the ground like tiny pneumatic drills in feathers. Like this fellow.
Before I say farewell, I want to thank my friend Jane for sending me a beautiful handmade owl mask. Jane runs Bridgetown Bow Ties where she makes, you guessed it, bow ties.
At the northeast corner of Central Park is the Meer, a small lake stocked with fish and home to birds.
At the edge of a small island, I saw bright movement: a great white egret.
A mighty hunter seeking prey.
It flew across the small expanse of water and landed on the pathway.
How still it holds itself and how extraordinarily flexible is its neck. We humans have seven cervical vertebrae while an egret has, count them. eighteen.
Solitary human and solitary egret.
After a few minutes, the big bird opened its wings and swooped low along the shoreline to try its luck a little further on.
Hunting, waiting, flying ..
Beautiful.
For more on bird necks, including photos of bird contortionists and a brief anatomy lesson, see Bird Neck Appreciation Day.
Who’s that walkin’ around here?
Sounds like baby patter.
Baby elephant patter, that’s what I calls it.
– Fats Waller, Your Feet’s Too Big
Ah, it’s a White-throated Sparrow, digging through the leaves for tasty morsels hidden below.
Beautifully camouflaged in the ground litter, the sparrow nonetheless called attention to itself by kicking up an absolute ruckus. If you’ve never seen a little bird dig, it’s quite an impressive flurry of activity with wings, feet and beak all in motion at once.
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White-throated Sparrows have two color morphs, the striking white-striped bird above, and a subtler tan-striped variation.
Here’s what Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s “All About Birds” website has to say about the color morphs:
The two forms are genetically determined, and they persist because individuals almost always mate with a bird of the opposite morph. Males of both color types prefer females with white stripes, but both kinds of females prefer tan-striped males. White-striped birds are more aggressive than tan-striped ones, and white-striped females may be able to outcompete their tan-striped sisters for tan-striped males.
Okay, got that?
Here, take a quick look at The Sordid Lives of the White-Throated Sparrow, Kelly Rypkema’s one-minute video:
After mating with whichever-striped chosen consort, White-throated Sparrows build their nests on or near the ground, which makes the eggs and nestlings easy prey for that most adorable of vicious predators, the Eastern chipmunk.
Eastern chipmunk in Central Park.
Yes, these cute little rodents don’t confine themselves to nuts and seeds. In fact, they are notorious nest-raiders of ground-nesting birds, helping themselves to a quick blast of protein in the form of eggs and babies. Interestingly, a 2011 study indicates that some species of ground-nesting birds, notably oven-birds and veeries, pay attention to chipmunk calls and avoid nesting in chipmunk-rich areas.
I don’t know if the White-throated Sparrow eavesdrops on chipmunks. But watching them dig up the leaves, I’d think they could put up quite a defense with those wings and feet. And speaking of feet (hey, sometimes a good segue is elusive, okay?), here is Fats Waller singing “Your Feet’s Too Big.”
A rustle in the leaves reveals a fat-cheeked, lovely chipmunk on a hillside near Central Park’s North Woods. Check out the large nut stowed on the side.
The Eastern chipmunk lives in many of the city’s larger forested parks, but until recently, Central Park was a chipmunk-free zone.
According to the Central Park Conservancy, the return of chipmunks can be traced to a decision in 2009 to remove trash cans from the Park’s woodland areas. The trash had served as a prime food source for the Park’s many rats. When the trash cans were removed, the trash diminished, and the rats left the Park in search of easier pickings. (Sadly, NYC’s system of leaving mountains of trash bags out on the sidewalk overnight means that pretty much any city street on trash night provides a self-service rat buffet.) Apparently, the rat exodus has created favorable conditions for chipmunks to move in and thrive. Whether the rats out-competed the chipmunks for food, preyed on them, or just generated general forest anxiety among smaller creatures, I don’t know. Anyone?
On Sunday, I was thrilled with my first sighting of a Central Park chipmunk. Now that the little rodents have awakened from hibernation with the warming spring temperatures, I hope to see them more often.
Eastern chipmunk gives me the hairy eyeball.
This little fellow ducked repeatedly in and out of its hiding place beneath the rock. Eventually, though, it rushed off, giving me a good look at its gorgeous back stripes and ruddy rear end before it disappeared into the leaves.
Eastern chipmunk, Central Park, NYC. Photo: Melissa Cooper
New Yorkers, who come in all shapes and sizes, love their dogs, who also come in all shapes and sizes. Today we’re taking a look at city men who love – or, at any rate, walk – little city dogs.
Enjoy.
Crossing Columbus Avenue and heading west.
Near the 96th Street red clay tennis courts in Riverside Park.
On Central Park’s Great Hill.
Riverside Park.
Riverside Park.
Walking west on W. 108th Street.
Riverside Park.
Hey, Mister, that’s my dog. And he’s not that little.
Lately I’ve been feeling grateful to my walking companion.
Just over five years ago, my family and I left the horizontal landscape of Dallas, Texas for the vertical world of Manhattan. Since then, like old-fashioned postal workers, the dog and I can fairly say that “neither rain nor snow nor heat nor gloom of night” has stayed us from our daily exploration of our neighborhood’s streets and parks. Walking with Esau has led me to discover things about my city and its inhabitants – human, domesticated and wild – that I might never have known if the dog didn’t need to go out, and then go out again.
So today I just want to take a minute to admire the dog who gets me up and out, who poses patiently whenever asked, and who valiantly represses his predatory instincts long enough to allow me to watch the hawks, raccoons, squirrels, egrets, sparrows, peacocks, woodpeckers, ducks, and other creatures that share the streets and parks with us.
(If you hover over the photos, arrows will appear so that you can click through the slide show)
On Monday, the dog and I took a long walk in Central Park with my friend Mary, who is in town performing with Taylor Mac in a wonderful production of Bertolt Brecht’s The Good Person of Szechwan at the Public Theater. Go see it, if you can.
The Pool, a lovely little body of water near West 103rd Street, was painted with autumn colors.
Mallards bobbed and dabbled everywhere.
Wait a minute, those aren’t all mallards. Check out that duck on the left, below.
That ain’t no mallard. Let’s take a closer look.
A beautiful reddish head, but definitely not a Redhead. A white breast and clean white markings curving up either side of the back of the neck. Very handsome. What is he? No clue. Well, we’ll look it up when we get back to the apartment.
We wandered on along the Loch and through the North Woods to the Conservatory Garden, which stretches from 106th Street to 103rd along the eastern edge of the Park. It’s actually three distinct, beautifully maintained gardens, one French, one Italian, and one English.
In the French Garden, the dog took a breather in front of a huge mass of brilliant, yet touchingly fading mums.
In the English Garden, beneath the “Secret Garden” statues of a Pan-like Dicken and a rather nymph-like Mary Lennox, a koi and a water lily entered into an inter-species communion of color.
The dog (or is it the mop?) mused on late-season flowers and the passing of time.
Later, we looked for our duck in the bird books. He looked unmistakeably like a Northen Pintail – except that he had no pintail. A visit to Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s All About Birds reassured by saying that in eclipse (non-breeding) plumage the tail feathers are “much shorter and wider than in breeding plumage.” That clinched it: a Northern Pintail. A visit to a favorite site, Bruce Yolton’s Urban Hawks confirmed that on Sunday Bruce had photographed a Northern Pintail in the Pool, a sighting he called “unusual for the Park.”
Here is a last look at our handsome duck.
To see more urban ducks, visit the archives of Out Walking the Dog. Better yet, try stopping by the Pool yourself. Or the Reservoir. Or the Harlem Meer. Or the Lake. Or the Pond. Or any body of water in any park anywhere near you.
Or hell, forget the ducks. Just go for a walk. It’s beautiful out there.
Last Sunday, the day of the New York Marathon, autumn arrived in earnest. Temperatures dropped from the 60s to the 40s, and gloves were suddenly in order. The dog and I walked across Central Park’s northernmost stretch to cheer on the amazing runners. Notice the bundled-up spectators and the bare limbs of the runners.
We joined an enthusiastic crowd at Duke Ellington Circle at Fifth Avenue and 110th Street at the northeast corner of the park. Musicians were playing beneath the statue of the Duke, and the mood was happy.
The super-elite leaders had already passed by, but the runners counted as among the swift. It would be hours yet before the rest of the pack reached Central Park. When they crossed 110th Street, the marathoners had already run around 23 miles, passing through Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx and Manhattan. All they had to do was now was run the length and width of Central Park.
That’s all.
They came one by one, and in between each runner, Fifth Avenue was empty.
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Soon several powerful women ran past.
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Two wheelchair racers kept pace together, one bent completely forward over his legs.
In East Harlem, north of 110th Street, there were just a few onlookers.
Later in the day, there would be crowds of people to cheer on the huge mass of runners still to come.
The dog and I didn’t stick around to see it, though. We headed back toward the park. Children played, and rolled around, claiming the closed-off part of 110th Street as their own.
A colorful kite man got off his bike, and prepared to fly a celebratory kite or two.
We entered the astonishingly beautiful park and walked west along the Harlem Meer.
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Police helicopters kept watch overhead.
The dog posed among fallen leaves.
Burnished autumn colors glowed.
A feral cat crossed the path ahead of us as we neared Central Park West and 106th Street.
The dog posed at Stranger’s Gate, although his attention remained riveted on the spot where he had seen the cat.
Atop the head of Saint Andrew high on the Cathedral of St John the Divine.
I’m a charter member of NYC’s Hawk-a-Day Club. Anyone can join, and the entrance requirements are, well, not too tough. Basically, all you have to do is spend some time outside, preferably in or near a park, and look up. Because these days, the city’s raptors, particularly its burgeoning population of red-tailed hawks, are pretty easy to spot.
Over the course of the past six weeks or so, I’ve regularly – even, yes, daily – seen red-tails…
in Riverside Park.
Red-tail in Riverside Park at dusk.
On the back of the Cathedral of St John the Divine.
Nesting on the shoulders of St Andrew.
In Central Park.
Red-tail (Pale Male?) near Fifth Avenue.
On a high-rise near Morningside Park.
High above the city.
On another high rise on Broadway between 109th and 110th Streets – on the same spot where I recently watched a pair of hawks copulate.
On a tree near the statue of General Franz Sigel at 106th and Riverside.
High in the tree branches in Riverside Park, a small, brilliant flash of red startled me. It soon revealed itself to be the head of a black-and-white woodpecker. The little fellow was very active, hopping from one branch to another with great rapidity, ducking behind branches and twigs, making it hard for me to get a good look at its entire form. And, of course, I had left behind both my binoculars and my camera.
Was the beautiful bird a Red-bellied woodpecker?
Red-bellied woodpecker by John James Audubon
(Despite its name, the Red-bellied woodpecker is notably black and white with a red cap and nape. The name derives from a reddish tinge on the belly that is really only visible when the bird is examined close up.) I watched until the bird swooped off, scalloping the air, to another tree. But when I got home and opened a bird book, it was the the flash of a red cap that lit the image in my mind. A red cap, not a red cap and nape. So hmmm…
Could it have been a yellow-bellied sapsucker?
Yellow-bellied sapsucker by John James Audubon.
Both birds are seen in NYC parks, although the Yellow-bellied sapsucker is apparently less common. But something about the coloring, and even the cap, just doesn’t seem quite right when compared with the bird in my mind’s eye. So I believe it was a Red-bellied. Next time I’ll know better how to look at a red-headed woodpecker to note its defining marks.
The unexpected flash of avian red has stayed with me, like a wake-up of some kind. “Sleeper, awake!” the little bird signaled to me. A good jolt with which to start a new year.
Since I have no photo of my woodpecker, here is a different bit of vibrant wake-up-the-new-year red, photographed by a friend on his morning walk.
Cardinal in NYC, plumped against the cold. Photo: Rob Pavlin
Our end of year countdown continues with the top five stories, written in 2012, on Out Walking the Dog. For the first half of the top ten stories, covering coyotes, red-tailed hawks, NYC dogs, and feral cats, visit Top Posts of 2012, Part One.)
Click on each title to go to the original post. Enjoy!
Delmarva Fox Squirrel. Photo: Mary Shultz.
5. The Endangered Delmarva Fox Squirrel was inspired by my friend Mary’s sightings and photographs of an unusually big and beautiful squirrel on her property on the eastern shore of Maryland. I had never before heard of the species, which turns out to be the biggest tree squirrel in North America. Of course, I had barely heard of Delmarva, the long peninsula that belongs to Delaware, Maryland and Virginia, and includes the islands of Chincoteague and Assoteague, where the famous ponies run. Now I hope to travel down to Delmarva in 2013 to see its horses and squirrels for myself.
Photo: WCBV
4. A Black Bear Comes to Provincetown! Black bears are increasingly seen all over the northeast, including New York and New Jersey. And bears, as some hairy, masculine gay men call themselves, are long-time regular visitors and residents in Provincetown, Massachusetts. But the sight of an actual 200-pound black bear wandering around the narrow tip of Cape Cod was a notable wildlife sighting. The annual summer gathering known as Provincetown Bear Week was just a few weeks off, prompting many jokes about the young male bear being so eager to participate in the festivities that he arrived early.
Boston Globe.
8. Hurricane Sandy Update: New York and Long Island. As I watched Hurricane Sandy make a blur of the world outside my New York City window, my brother rode out the storm at our family house on Long Island, providing eyewitness accounts of the flooding of our road, and of the interesting behavior of birds and foxes as the storm began.
Photo courtesy of Gigi A.
9. Hunting for Central Park’s Black Squirrels. After hearing repeatedly from people who spotted beautiful black squirrels in parks around the city, I became overwhelmed with the desire to see one for myself. One day, following tips from other squirrel watchers, I set out to find one in Central Park. Black squirrels are actually a melanistic phase of NYC’s ubiquitous Gray squirrel, so a brief discussion of the natural history of the Gray squirrel is in order. Do I ever actually find a black squirrel? You’ll just have to read the post to find out.
And the most-read post written in 2012 is …
Flying Point Beach. Photo: Andrew Cooper
10. Hurricane Sandy: Flying Point Road, Long Island Update.Written in the immediate aftermath of the great storm, this post describes a small stretch of road in eastern Long Island on which sits a one-time farmhouse that has belonged to my family since the 1960s. The once rural area is now home to mega-mansions, and building continues apace on every inch of available land. Global warming is effecting changes all along this once-rural coastal area that is now home to McMansions by the score. Even now, development continues to gobble up the few remaining fields and marshlands, and houses perch on precarious ocean dunes and along the shore of the easily flooded bay. Photographs and video show the area during peaceful summer scenes as well as in the fury of the storm.
Thank you for visiting Out Walking the Dog in 2012. Here’s to 2013!
Out Walking the Dog announces our first URBAN NATURE CONTEST!
THE PRIZE
Still the Same Hawk: Reflections on Nature and New York edited by John Waldman, Fordham University Press
This newly published collection on a subject close to my heart features essays and articles that explore the relationship between nature and New York City. Writers include Robert Sullivan, Betsy McCully, Christopher Meier, Tony Hiss, Kelly McMasters, Dara Ross, William Kornblum, Phillip Lopate, David Rosane, Anne Matthews, Devin Zuber, and Frederick Buell.
Out Walking the Dog is proud to have a personal connection to the book through this painting by Charlotte Hildebrand.
Painting by Charlotte Hildebrand.
Out Walking the Dog originally commissioned the painting to illustrate Urban Hawk Snatches Chihuahua? In that post, we pondered the line humans like to draw between meat animals and pet animals, and the reactions of city dwellers when one of our more revered wild animals, a red-tailed hawk, ignores our distinction. The illustration was spotted on Out Walking the Dog by the editors of Still the Same Hawk, and appears (in black-and-white, but still looking fine) as an illustration to Robert Sullivan’s essay, My Time Spent in the Nature that People Would Rather Not Think About.
THE RULES: HOW TO ENTER
Send me a description of an encounter you’ve had with urban wildlife. This may be as simple or elaborate as you like. You may write a sentence, a paragraph, a page, a poem, a dialogue, a haiku, whatever strikes your fancy. Be sure to include your name and mailing address, so that, should you be the lucky winner, I can mail you your prize without delay. Send via email to: Outwalkingthedognyc@gmail.com.
THE SELECTION
One winning entry will be selected at random. All entries will be read with interest, but interest will have no bearing on your chances.
THE DEADLINE
Entries must be received by Tuesday, December 18th at 7 PM.
The drawing will take place later that night or the following morning. The prize will be mailed via Priority Mail on December 19th. This means that, if the United States Post Office does its part and if you reside in North America, you’ll probably receive the book in time for Christmas. (I will send the book anywhere in the world, but no guarantees of when it will arrive.)
AN EXHORTATION
December 18th is around the corner, folks. So get those entries in, and please help me spread the word.
Good luck!
(Did you know you can follow Out Walking the Dog on Twitter and Facebook?)
Walking just got easier along Riverside Park’s upper promenade on Riverside Drive.
On Wednesday, it looked like this at 107th Street and Riverside Drive.
But yesterday, all that was left of the tree was sawdust and a pathetic bit of stump.
Gazing south to 105th Street, we spied the heroes of the scene toiling away on yet another downed tree.
The tree crew from East Greenwich Tree Service has been working in Manhattan since Sunday.
Yes, Sunday. The city hired them to cut down potentially hazardous trees before Sandy reached its peak.
This gentleman told me of working up in the bucket on Sunday in 50-mile an hour gusts.
He also showed me impressive photos on his iPhone of cars smashed by trees. He said he likes to take the photos before they clear the trees, and he remembers exactly where each car was located. The job now is to clear streets and sidewalks.
After that, they’ll move into the parks. And in fact, directly below the team inside Riverside Park, a large tree with a huge root ball was blocking the upper path. To get a sense of just how huge, look at the little pedestrian coming along the path on the left.
A man from the Parks Department conferred with the team.
I asked him how much damage Riverside Park had sustained. He said he didn’t know exactly, since his priority has been to clear the streets for emergency vehicles and to keep people safe.
The tree at 105th Street took part of the playground fencing with it.
I told him I had heard that Morningside Park had lost a lot of trees, which he confirmed. (Scroll down for information on volunteering tomorrow in Morningside Park or your local park.) We talked about the storms over the past couple of years that have caused our parks to lose a substantial number of trees in the parks, including last October’s freak snow storm that took down 1,000 trees in Central Park.
“You know how they talk about a once-in-a-hundred years storm, well, we’ve had four of them in the past few years,” said the man from Parks. “Well, they’re gonna have to think of a new way to describe these storms.”
And they – I mean, we – are going to have to face the facts about climate change, and come up with new ways of living and working to protect our city and our planet.
Meanwhile, thanks to the tree guys for their hard, necessary work.
Post Sandy Volunteer Cleanup in Morningside Park
Saturday, Nov. 3rd from 10am – 12 pm 116th Street and Morningside Drive
Dress for outdoor work. Equipment will be provided.
To find out about other volunteer opportunities, check NYC Services or your local park, shelter or ASPCA. I just received emails from Kicy Motley at kmotley@pubadvocate.nyc.gov that there are clean-ups going on tomorrow in Staten Island and several locations in Riverside Park. email for info.
It’s the day after Labor Day, and even this hot summer is drawing to a close. The air is thick and heavy today as what’s left of Hurricane Isaac passes us. And I’m thinking about summer in the city.
The way the colors are brighter than at any other time of year.
Remember when manikins (and womanikins) faced front, even in tight pants?
The way Amsterdam Avenue comes alive in the heat.
Caribbean blues on Amsterdam Avenue.
Girls in bright colors pass in front of a meat market on Amsterdam and 107th Street.
Another block, another meat market, this one on Amsterdam between 108th and 109th.
On 108th Street, a prayer meeting closes the street.
Hold hands or raise them high, bodies swaying.
Over on Broadway, too, August colors shimmer.
Famous Famiglia offers Italian ices in the summer.
On 59th Street, a plumed carriage horse was working hard, maybe too hard.
Carriage horse passes children on their way into Central Park.
Animals of all species need to slow down, cool down, and take it easy.
Dogs.
Esau rests by tiny blue flowers.
Squirrels.
Lazy Boy squirrel.
Birds.
Through gular fluttering, a form of panting, birds can cool their bodies.
Humans.
Beneath the parasol, amid an array of stuff, a person dozes.
And cats.
Why we have benches.
The cat pictured in the above photo isn’t just any tabby. It’s the (locally) famous Samad’s Gourmet cat,
Samad’s Gourmet on Broadway.
a very cool kitty, well known on the street, who is not above moonlighting in record sales.
Would you buy a used record from this cat?
But the photo just above was taken in cooler days, in the middle of winter, when a working cat doesn’t mind a little extra responsibility. Mid-summer is a whole other story.
“So chill in the heat I can barely breathe.”
But perhaps the cat comes alive on a summer night, as the Lovin’Spoonful classic has it:
Cool cat lookin’ for a kitty
Gonna look in every corner of the city,
Out walking the dog 