Queen Museum Exhibit

A Christmas Bird Count 18 Years Ago

This Saturday will be my 19th year covering Brooklyn’s Floyd Bennett Field for the annual Christmas Bird Count. It will also be my first as the team leader. I thought it might be fun to look back at my experience from the first year. Unfortunately, it appears that I didn’t write anything down in 1999, but I did manage to locate my report from the second year. Before my involvement, the entire 1300+ acres was covered by just Ron Bourque and his late wife Jean. In 2000 there were four of us on the team. On Saturday we’ll finally have enough birders on our team to adequately cover our entire area (Floyd Bennett Field, Dead Horse Bay and Four Sparrow Marsh). Maybe we’ll find something really cool. Note that on my species list I used the old common name “Saltmarsh Sharp-tailed Sparrow” as it wasn’t changed to Saltmarsh Sparrow until 2009:

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SUBJECT: Dead Horse Bay, Floyd Bennett Field, Four Sparrow Marsh
DATE: Saturday, 16 December, 2000
OBSERVERS: Ron Bourque, Jean Bourque, Mike Higgiston, Rob Jett
REPORTER: Rob Jett

For me, the annual Christmas Bird Count is the symbolic conclusion to another year of birding. While I will probably spend a few more hours tracking down this winters avian residents before the end of the calendar year, the CBC stands out as more than just another day outdoors with my binoculars. I want to know everything there is to know about birds and to be able to predict the unpredictable. The consummate hunter knows not only where to find his prey, but also, when to look. There is always an element of luck involved with our type of hunting but the "count" gives me an opportunity to see if I've learned anything over the preceding year.

Saturday’s bit of luck was the fact that weather predictions were off by about six hours and we didn't have to spend the day walking around in open fields in the drenching rain. On the downside, many of the expected seasonal species were seen in very low numbers.

Mike and I started off at Four Sparrow Marsh. The inner marsh was virtually deserted. As we approached the opening near Mill Basin we flushed a Common Snipe which zigzagged low towards the Belt Parkway bridge. The ground was extremely soft due to the recent rainstorms and, unlike the snipe, we had to step carefully. The habitat near the shore is a landscape of windblown grass and mussel shoals sprinkled with generous amounts of bottles, Styrofoam, driftwood and derelict recreational boats. Scanning the grass we found a small group of low feeding sparrows. In the group there were at least a couple of Song Sparrows, one or two Swamp Sparrows and a couple of other unidentified, very evasive sparrows. A close watch from our respective dry, flotsam platforms finally revealed that there were two Sharp-tailed Sparrows in the flock. I took a step off my piece of wood in an attempt to flush the birds towards Mike and promptly lost my right leg in knee deep muck. I imagined the birds amusement as they stayed put on their safe island only a few yards away watching me struggling to pull myself back onto my perch.

Before we returned to the car I had the silly notion to try and tramp a trail through the towering forest of Phragmites in the field just west of the marsh. Mike positioned himself atop a tall mound of wood chips and prepared to track whatever came flying out. I may have felt like a Cocker Spaniel but within the first ten feet a fluttering, whistling Woodcock shot straight up like a pheasant and headed towards the back of the reeds. For some strange reason I began barking.

We met Ron and Jean back at Floyd Bennett and Ron decided we should start looking for owls. Mike and I headed straight to the section were we located a couple of Saw-whet Owls last year. No luck, but Ron caught up to us after having just flushed a Barn Owl. We didn't see it but continued looking for signs of other owls. I meandered away from the others and began checking a small section of pines. As I walked I unconsciously scanned the soft, spongy ground beneath the conifers for signs of an owl roost. Something higher up caught my attention. At eye level I noticed a small, white downy feather trapped in the needles on the end of a branch. It fluttered ever so slightly in a light breeze that wafted through the pines. I thought that maybe a raptor had plucked it from its hapless prey or perhaps a bird had been preening further up the tree. My eyes continued following upward in the feathers likely trajectory and stopped at a Barn Owl perched near the top of the pine.

Back on the grasslands it was time to spread out and walk the entire length of every field. As expected Savannah Sparrows were common but meadowlarks seemed to be missing. A familiar sound was approaching us and I searched for the source. "Pip-pit, pip-pit, pip-pit, pip-pit", an American Pipit was heading our way and flew by just over our heads. As we came to the end of the second to last field Mike shouted for our attention. A Short-eared Owl flew up from its roost near the edge of the runway. A few crows immediately descended on the owl in an attempt to "run it out of town". The Short-eared didn't seem that concerned about the crows as it eventually stopped and perched on a small nature refuge sign at the side of the road. When the crows did get too close the owl always seemed able to effortlessly maneuver itself above its pursuers.
Ron was becoming increasingly concerned that he hadn't seen any meadowlarks yet. We talked in depressed tones about their rapidly declining numbers and how years ago one local naturalist predicted that by the year 2000 they'd be extinct. At the last field we checked Mike spotted a lone meadowlark. Then it was joined by seven more birds. We were overjoyed as we watched the flock of bright yellow birds pass in front of us; their halting, staccato wing beats trying to evade our sights. But our aim was true, our trigger fingers at the ready with pen and checklist and we "got" our birds.

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Floyd Bennett Field/Four Sparrow Marsh - 1 2/1 6/00

Horned Grebe
Great Cormorant
Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Canada Goose
Brant
Mute Swan
American Wigeon
American Black Duck
Mallard
Green-winged Teal
Greater Scaup
Bufflehead
Red-breasted Merganser
Northern Harrier
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Cooper's Hawk
Red-shouldered Hawk (Floyd Bennett Field)
Red-tailed Hawk
American Kestrel
Merlin (Floyd Bennett Field)
Peregrine Falcon
Ring-necked Pheasant
Common Snipe (Four Sparrow Marsh)
American Woodcock (Four Sparrow Marsh)
Herring Gull
Great Black-backed Gull
Rock Dove
Barn Owl (Floyd Bennett Field)
Short-eared Owl (Floyd Bennett Field)
Downy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Blue Jay
American Crow
Black-capped Chickadee
American Robin
European Starling
Northern Mockingbird
American Pipit (Floyd Bennett Field)
Cedar Waxwing
Yellow-rumped Warbler
American Tree Sparrow
Field Sparrow
Savannah Sparrow
Saltmarsh Sharp-tailed Sparrow (Four Sparrow Marsh)
Song Sparrow
Swamp Sparrow
White-throated Sparrow
Dark-eyed Junco
Northern Cardinal
Red-winged Blackbird
Eastern Meadowlark (8, Floyd Bennett Field)
Brown-headed Cowbird
House Finch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow ...Read more

Free Walking Tour

Brooklyn's Evolving Coastline

Having published 2550 posts on this blog it might be expected that I'd forget something along the way. I created the following video back in 2011 to illustrate how much of Brooklyn's coastal wetlands have been lost to development, but I guess it got buried under all the other files. Better late than never. The loss of habitat in the area around Plum "Island" and Barren Island (now Floyd Bennett Field) are particularly startling. It is only now, after some devastating storms, that civil engineers, environmental biologists and politicians realize that these soft buffers play an important role in mitigating storm surges. It is also critically important habitat for migrating and breeding birds. It will likely never return to what it was in Brooklyn back in 1891, but city officials are at least talking about creating nature buffers for future storms.


Brooklyn Coastline from RJ.

Shorebirding in Brooklyn

I love old maps. I especially like old maps of Brooklyn and New York City. Besides the artistic qualities of these hand drawn works, they give me insight into what the environment may have been like during bygone eras. This is the Beer's map of Brooklyn from 1873 and is one of my favorites. That year construction of Prospect Park had just been completed, much of central and eastern Brooklyn was still farmland and the southeastern coast was still dominated by marshes and creeks. In fact, one could have actually paddled from Gravesend Bay, east along Coney Island Creek, into Sheepshead Bay and continued around the back of Plum Island, then north up Gerritsen Creek to Kings Highway. Today you'd have to pull your canoe out of the water at West 6th Street and the Belt Park, then carry it over a mile east to East 15th Street and Emmons Avenue to the western terminus of Sheepshead Bay. Also, Plum Island is no longer an island, but a peninsula (Plum Beach) and Gerritsen Creek now ends a mile short of Kings Highway. Only tiny remnants of those wetlands remain and I sometimes picture in my mind huge flocks of shorebirds stopping off there during migration. In 1873 the Eskimo Curlew (now considered extinct by many) was likely a regular visitor among the tens of thousands of migrating shorebirds stopping off in Brooklyn. While on its last legs when this map was created, the now extinct Labrador Duck could probably have still been seen along the coast of Brooklyn.

Over the past weekend several of us local birders descended on Plum Beach in search of migrating shorebirds. I don't think anybody was expecting to rediscover the Eskimo Curlew, although, since most shorebird species are long distance migrants there is always the possibility of spotting a wayward individual amongst the usual suspects. The most extreme local example of this occurred in 1998 when birder Bill Benner discovered a Broad-billed Sandpiper on the West Pond of Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge. This Eurasian species of shorebird had never been seen in the lower 48 states of the US! You can read Bill's account of the experience here.

Dawn on Saturday morning began with just a light drizzle. But by mid-morning it was fully raining. Not the best conditions for looking at tiny shorebirds through a spotting scope, but the birds didn't seem to mind. The most common shorebird at low-tide was probably Semipalmated Plovers, with Semipalmated Sandpipers coming in a close second. After an hour of standing in the rain my rain gear had begun loosing its water repellency and my scope was starting to fog. I was uncomfortable, but when Dennis and Bobbi waved Heydi and I over to check out an interesting pair of birds, I quickly forgot about those problems. A pair of relatively robust sandpipers were standing on the exposed mudflat about 200 yards to the south. Dennis thought that they might be Pectoral Sandpipers. Not an exceedingly rare species, but certainly scarce for Brooklyn. I couldn't be sure due to the distance and rain on my lenses, but the pair eventually flew much closer revealing a scaly back pattern, long, slightly drooped bills, but mainly a distinctive heavily streaked breast that ends in a sharp delineation at a white belly. They were definitely Pectoral Sandpipers. A nice spot, and worth my current soggy state.

Heydi and I left as the tide came in and the bird numbers seemed to be going down. We didn't see many more shorebirds on Saturday, but later that afternoon we did spot a Bald Eagle soaring over the community garden at Floyd Bennett Field.

As I set my alarm clock on Saturday night I was optimistic that the next morning would be much drier at Plum Beach. If only optimism was enough to control the weather. With umbrella in hand, I headed out the door at 5:20am towards the subway and another rendezvous with the "Brooklyn Bad Weather Birders". The meeting wasn't actually a planned outing, but there were at least six Brooklyn birders desperate to see shorebirds at Plum Beach, weather be damned!

Heydi and I were the first out on the mudflats, with Tom and Louis close behind. At around 7am I spotted a Gull-billed Tern sitting on the sand spit that borders Plum Channel. This species actually breeds south of New York, so was a nice surprise. We eventually spotted a second one. Most terns dive for fish, however this unusual species grabs prey, such as insects, from near the ground. On Sunday we watched the pair frequently grabbing dragonflies from close to the ground on the marsh side of the dunes.

One of the species that we always hope to find at Plum Beach in early August is Piping Plover. Tom and a couple of other folks had already seen a few here earlier last week, but they were not to be found on Saturday. At around 9:45am on Sunday, though, Heydi spotted a flock of 5 of these tiny plovers flying across the water and onto the exposed mudflat. Endangered in New York State and threatened federally, these adorable little birds face a gauntlet of dangers from feral cats to beach-oriented recreation, including collisions with off-road vehicles. Ongoing federal and state management programs have helped, but much more is needed to get their populations up.

I had been taught that the best time of day for shorebirding is at low-tide along coastal mudflats and sandbars. On Sunday, however, we noticed that many more birds were coming in to Plum Beach on the incoming tides and then feeding along the wrack line. As we were leaving on Sunday a few hundred "peeps" were just arriving. Perhaps that is because most of the bars and flats on Jamaica Bay become completely covered in water with Plum being one of the few refuges above water outside of the East Pond at Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge.

This coming Saturday high-tide at Plum Beach is at 7:03am. So if this theory holds water, there should be a lot of shorebirds there when I arrive at dawn. Maybe an Eskimo Curlew with show up...

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Dates: August 2, 2014 and August 3, 2014
Location: Plumb Beach
Species: 53

BLACK SCOTER (2.)
Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Great Egret
Snowy Egret
Little Blue Heron (1.)
Black-crowned Night-Heron
Osprey
Clapper Rail

American Oystercatcher
Black-bellied Plover
Semipalmated Plover
PIPING PLOVER (5.)
Killdeer (1.)
Spotted Sandpiper (1.)
Greater Yellowlegs
Willet
Ruddy Turnstone (15.)
Sanderling (100.)
Least Sandpiper
PECTORAL SANDPIPER (2.)
Semipalmated Sandpiper (350.)
Short-billed Dowitcher (3.)

Laughing Gull
Ring-billed Gull
Herring Gull
Great Black-backed Gull
Least Tern
GULL-BILLED TERN (2.)
Common Tern
Forster's Tern
Black Skimmer

Barn Swallow
Carolina Wren
Northern Mockingbird
Cedar Waxwing
Yellow Warbler
Eastern Towhee
Savannah Sparrow
Boat-tailed Grackle

Other common species seen (or heard):
Canada Goose, American Black Duck, Mallard, Rock Pigeon, Mourning Dove, American Crow, American Robin, European Starling, Song Sparrow, Northern Cardinal, Red-winged Blackbird, Brown-headed Cowbird, House Sparrow ...Read more

Coney Island & Brooklyn Coast

On Sunday I took a long ride down Ocean Parkway to Coney Island. The return trip was via the Shore Promenade, along Gravesend Bay. I made some interesting migration observations and took some photos of a Coney Island landmark.

Along the Coney Island boardwalk, a couple of blocks west of the fishing pier, is the old Child's Restaurant. Whenever I bike to Coney Island, I stop to admire the ornate glazed tile-work on the building's exterior. This was the first time that I've photographed any of it and, looking at the images on my computer, recognized an incredible range of marine life depicted. It's hard to believe that the city would have left this historic piece of architecture to crumble, but, thankfully, it was given landmark status in 2003. You can read more about the building and its designers here. Among the veritable Noah's Ark of creatures on the building's facade are sharks, snails, spider crabs, lobsters, octopus and the bizarre Mola Mola.

I took a walk out to the end of the fishing pier to scan for birds. The water was glass calm and a slight haze hung over the horizon. Looking towards Breezy Point and the Rockaway Inlet I could see large flocks of waterfowl on the move. At the time, I wasn't 100% sure of their identity, but they seemed to be Brant. It looked like huge waves of many thousands were moving north on the Spring migration. Later in the day, as I pedaled along Gravesend Bay, I observed the large flocks much closer, and they were Brant. The days are getting longer and these waterfowl have begun their mass exodus out of New York City to their breeding grounds in the high Arctic of Alaska and Canada.

One of the best places for pizza in Brooklyn is at Totonno's Pizzaria in Coney Island. I heard about it from Mike Colameco's food talk radio show. (Yes, I am not just a birder, but a foodie birder.) So, after stuffing myself on pepperoni & mushroom pizza and rootbeer, I hopped back on the bike and headed towards Dreier-Offerman Park and the Shore Promenade. A Monk Parakeet squawked from a tree along Nepture Avenue. I've heard them near the Home Depot a few blocks away and wondered if these Argentinian transplants are now colonizing Coney Island.

Before heading towards the promenade, I rode to the Coney Island Creek side of the peninsula. The gated community of Sea Gate is at the western edge. It was low tide, so I rode along the hard-packed sand to Norton Point. The view from the point looks up at the Verrazano Bridge and into New York Harbor. I imagine that on a clear day it's a pretty amazing sight, unfortunately, when I was there, it was mostly haze.

The rafts of scaup north and south of the Verrazano Bridge seem to have shrunk since my last ride along the coast. The warm weather brought a lot of people to the promenade. I had to play dodge-the-pedastrians along the route while occasionally peering over the retaining wall for Purple Sandpipers. There were at least 6 sandpipers present, but probably more if I had taken the time to scan all the rocks. One odd sighting in that area was a trio of Black Scoter nearer to the Home Depot. In my limited experience, it seems unusual to see these sea ducks so close to shore. Maybe they got disoriented in the haze. Anyway, with all that brick oven pizza fueling me for the rest of the afternoon, I pedaled back up the slope near Owl's Head Park, along the ridge in Sunset Park, passed the bakery near Green-Wood Cemetery and back up into Park Slope. There was no wind most of the day and the temperature was perfect for cycling. Finally, my frostbite bike rides seem to have ended ... at least, until next December. ...Read more

Prospect Park hawk update

I had the day off yesterday and spent two hours in Prospect Park cycling and birding. Part of my agenda included finding out how Alice and Ralph's two youngsters were managing in the wilds of Brooklyn.

A massive European Beech tree recently fell on the eastern rise of the Vale of Cashmere. The resulting tangle of branches and rotting wood has become a magnet for birds and chipmunks. Several species of birds foraging within the fall included a surprising abundance of juvenile American Robins. Throughout my two hour amble in the park I noticed that these common thrushes where just about everywhere I looked.

As I pedaled passed Nelly's Lawn, I heard the "Tut, tut, tut" alarm calls of several robins in the distance. I thought, "red-tails on the prowl", and adjusted my route towards the east side of the Aralia Grove and the source of the sounds.

A couple of months ago I found a circa 1870s map of Prospect Park on the Internet. The map identifies the previously unnamed stretch of woodlands north of the zoo as the "East Woods". It is the patch of forest where Big Mama and Split-tail raised their second family back in 2oo3. As I rode beneath the beech tree that held the old nest, I spotted the object of all the robins concern - Ralph. Perched halfway up an old sweetgum, the pale-headed hawk scanned the ground for a meal. With dozens of pairs of robins in the park now raising their second or third brood, Ralph was a picture of a lazy hunter. As some of the adult robins made feeble strafing flights into the predator, he calmly held his ground, waiting for an unwary young bird to cross his sights. I shot a few minutes of shaky, hand-held video, then continued south through the park.

His cries sounded like the pained yelps of a puppy who had his paw stepped on. One of the fledgling hawks had progressed across the Nethermead Meadow and was flying back and forth through the woods of Lookout Hill. I've come to recognize the sharp, upslurred whistle as the desperate "feed me" call of recently fledged Red-tailed Hawks. As I rode up Lookout Hill's pitted asphalt road I caught glimpses of the hawk flying from treetop to treetop. The hungry bird was searching for his parents. I found him perched in a conifer north of the Maryland Monument.

While I was looking for a good vantage point to watch the hawk, two joggers and a dog walker passed me on the footpath. I wondered how they could have ignored the piercing whistles of the young hawk a short distance off the path.

A second hawk began calling from nearby, but unlike the begging juvenile, made a typical Red-tailed Hawk "keeerr" sound. It was Ralph and his hunting foray was successful. He arrived with a freshly killed young robin in his talons. Rather than deliver the meal directly to his offspring, he remained a few yards away, impelling the youngster to come and get it. At one point he dropped the prey and flew to the ground to retrieve it. Eventually, the juvenile hawk got the message and took the food from his father. One would think that that would end all the crying, but it didn't. Instead, I followed the small, male hawk around the edge of the woods watching him awkwardly trying to balance on a branch and pluck his meal at the same time. The poor bird continued to cry "feed me, feed me", but Ralph just monitored the young bird from several yards away. When I left Lookout Hill I could still hear his cries in the distance, only they had a more muffled quality, as if he was stuffing his face and complaining at the same time.

by Rob Jett for "The City Birder"

Prospect Park, July 21

(Photo credit - Brooklyn Public Library, Brooklyn Collection)

PROSPECT PARK,

Pleasant Sketches of the Farm House, Barn, Reservoir and the Woods -
How the Park Looks to Outsiders.

This morning's Tribune publishes the following appreciative and interesting sketch of a visit to Prospect Park:

A few moments on the ferry and the street cars and Prospect Park is reached, with its breathings of pure air and glimpses of pastoral beauty. Wandering in the shady paths, one sees little to remind him of an immense outlay of money.

The main entrance at the Grand Plaza, where stands the bronze statue of Lincoln, is but a short distance from Battle Hill, made historic by Revolutionary blood. Following the windings of the paths, the visitor passes through somber shadows of stately trees, through meadows in which the daises, buttercups, and clover are knee high, through narrow vales where lochs lie among the trees, calm as the Summer sky, and on shaded eminences from which the eye can range from the dim stretch of the ocean and the faint shore of Connecticut to the blue hills of New Jersey. On Lookout Hill a new reservoir has been completed which supplies the water for the pretty cascades which babble in the Ravine. The first of these gushes from the side of a hill as if its source were a mystery, and tumbles into a shadowy pond from which a brook runs quietly until it descends

THROUGH THE RAVINE,

dashing among the rocks and boulders, over which hang the leaves of trailing vines, and at length finds rest in the bosom of a lake.

On the edge of the ravine are the farm house and barn, both of which have been recently finished. The barn is built on the side of a hill, and is a picturesque wooden structure, containing stables for cows, mows for hay, tool-rooms, etc. The sides are shingled after the manner of old country houses of many years ago. in the meadow near by are two stacks of hay, which add not a little to the homeliness of the picture. The farm house is a pretty building a few steps from the barn. It is built of a handsome dark stone, rough hewn. At the west side is a small porch, and a large, old-fashioned chimney rises up from the ground. Between the two front gables is a piazza, and, above, a pretty window. A spire with is weathercock surmounts one of the roofs and a wooden chimney the other. In front is a door-yard, inclosed by a rude stone wall, which is well hidden by vines. The front of the house is also partially mantled by vines, The yard is

ADORNED WITH CURIOUS PLANTS.

From the little porch at the west end of the house the visitor enters a long, spacious room, in which is a huge old-fashioned fireplace. The mantel is ornamented by large China vases, containing flowers. But for the counter, chairs, and tables, one could imagine it really a stately New England dining-room of the last century. From the large bay window at the south end is a fine view, through the gap of the Ravine, extending beyond the Narrows.

On the edge of the ravine hang several new rustic shelters, in which are pretty tables and seats. Following the path which leads through the hollow, the visitor passes under a new arch of fine Ohio stone, paneled in the interior with polished hard woods. In the edge of the Lullwater is a temporary music-stand which will be used until the erection of the pavilion at nearly the same spot. The place is well suited for the site; the rich sward is shaded by large trees. A little way to the south the meadow grass has been mowed and raked, and one gets a fragrant breath of the curing swaths of hay. A short distance from the Lullwater passing along the quiet Binninwater, in which float

MYRIADS OF WATER LILIES,

is the Eastwood arch, the gables of which are richly mantled by vines. From here the walk back to the entrance Is very pleasant. A deep clump of woods is threaded by dark foot-paths, which at last lead out into the open green. All day these groves are musical with the notes of the shy wood warblers. Orioles, blue birds, robins and sparrows sing through the hours of morning and noon, and in the late afternoon the wood-thrush is heard, piping tender and plaintive symphonies which echo In the shadowy leaf-arched alcoves. A homeward walk, until one reaches the exit, can easily be dreamed away.

The newer part of the Park at the northwest corner is rapidly improving. The grand drive on the west side has been completed, making the whole circuit now in use a distance of five miles. Near the temporary bridge, which crosses an arm of the lake at the foot of Breeze Hill, is the projected site of the terrace, near which will will be the refectory, sort of hotel for refreshments, but of a more public character than the Farm House. On the east side of the Park an excavation of blue clay is making for paving the bottoms of the lakes.

* * * * * * * * * *

The preceding text was a column in The Brooklyn Daily Eagle on July, 21, 1871. Note that the Brooklyn Bridge wouldn't open for another 12 years and that Prospect Park had only been open to the public for three years.