Birders: The Central Park Effect

When I was in my twenties,

I moved to New york City from out West.

I fell in love with the city but I missed being

surrounded by trees and animals and birds.

So I found myself escaping to nature whenever I could.

Then ltd come back to New york and hang up my binoculars.

Eventually I tried taking my

binoculars into Central Park, and discovered there was this

hidden piece of nature right in the middle of the city

This familiar place suddenly wasn't so familiar anymore.

It was like I was stepping through a portal and finding a

wild world in my own backyard.

It's unusual you can locate the moment, the day,

when you do something that kinda changes your life.

And I can. 15 years ago in March,

I was at a lunch in Manhattan not that many blocks

from Central Park.

And someone just said, apropos of nothing,

"The warblers will be coming through Central Park soon."

And I had no idea what warblers were.

And I asked him.

And he said, "They're neotropical migrants,"

which I didn't know what that meant either.

And he finally said, "They're beautiful

little birds who spend the winter in Central America or

South America or the southern part of the country,

and every year, they fly through Central Park,

following these ancient migratory pathways."

And almost mystically, I just knew I was

gonna go out and find them.

Oh my God.

Holy frickin' Moses.

Hey, Elise. It's 8:30 in the morning.

I know you're on your way to the Park to see the Hooded,

but there's a Prothonotary at the tip of the Point,

so come and take a look.

He's gorgeous. Okay, bye.

And you think this little bird realizes that he's like causing

joy for all these primates standing around just kind of

staring at him?

He just wants his food. He doesn't care.

Yeah.

More than 200 species of birds are seen every year in

Central Park, roughly a quarter of all

the bird species found in the United States and Canada.

Toward the end of April and on into May

the Park explodes with bird life.

On a good spring morning, there can be more than

100 different species in the Park.

Where are you?

Oh, is that it fly catching right there?

It - yeah. - Got it.

The Park hosts a community of several hundred birders.

Most, like the birds themselves, are seasonal migrants,

visiting only in the spring and fall.

But some of them are the regulars,

coming into the Park throughout the year.

Ah, the bird is still here, flitting around as

it always does.

Yeah.

That's - the bird is right there.

Six days, six days that bird has been here.

I know one of Lloyd's friends has made the comment,

when he comes to the Park, he said,

"I've never seen birds so cooperative."

I mean, they just - whether there -

it's because they're on migration -

For example -

- they're used to the people, they're - the

That yellow-throated warbler over there -

five feet away.

If - that bird is getting within

three or four feet of you.

If you went to see that on the breeding grounds,

that bird would be 80 to 80 feet up high,

and you would never get the - the views that you're getting.

And that's the experience with a lot of birds that

hit Central Park.

Birds get here.

They may not have seen people for three, four days.

Forever.

They certainly never saw - - Some of 'em.

Right, and they are friendly. It's like they don't care about

how many people are here.

Do you ever get tired of looking at a Cardinal?

No.

How could you?

Honestly, how could you -

You get tired of looking at these guys,

but not that's a whole different story.

If you get tired of looking at the common birds,

you might as well just pack it in.

I mean, these birds, they're just gorgeous.

Bay-breasted Warbler.

Boreal Owl.

Gray Catbird.

Hermit Thrush.

Indigo Bunting.

Wood Duck.

Is that - is that the full name?

Do you remember the bird that - that first made you go, "Whoa"?

Oh, God. No.

No? So it wasn't -

It wasn't one particular scarlet tanager.

I've always looked at birds,

and so I can't say the first bird that has made me go,

"Whoa."

Especially because almost any bird can make me go "Whoa" -

Ah, Baltimore Oriole.

Adult male Baltimore Oriole in the tree right there.

Ooh. Blackburnian.

I've gotta find the fucker.

You can bleep that.

There he is.

And he is beautiful.

Oh-oh-oh. - Oh, there we go.

Yeah. Okay, sir.

It turns every morning into a treasure hunt, really.

You never know what you're gonna find.

My friends mock me for what I do in the spring,

because I - just, they know.

They know from experience.

From April 15 until Memorial Day,

they won't see me.

Because I'm birding.

Some place up here.

Because I do enjoy the song so much,

and I'm pretty ear-dependant.

That makes the spring sort of ideal for me,

'cause they're singing their guts out.

Plus in spring, they're in their gorgeous spring plumage.

But the main thing is, is just, you know,

spring here in Central Park is just spectacular.

I had always wanted to have some kind of

relationship with nature.

Um, I grew up loving the outdoors and feeling like

there was something there for me,

if I could only figure out what,

but I never could figure out what.

Um, had a hard time figuring out what I was supposed to do

with pretty scenery besides take a picture of it.

Really was when I got involved with this woman,

and her sister and brother- in-law are total birders,

so I politely went out with them on a Saturday afternoon,

just - Park was mobbed - and went to Belvedere Castle,

and they're looking at these little birds in the trees

there, and - and we stepped behind the - the castle,

and there in the undergrowth,

this little bird, little brown bird,

which I later realized was a Veery.

Just beautiful little thrush, cinnamon-colored back.

And I'd been walking in Central Park pretty much daily

for the previous seven years,

and I thought it was a place of pigeons and sparrows.

And we proceeded on down into the ramble,

and it's like the trees were hung with ornaments.

It was amazing, seeing this familiar urban park

filled with birds like that.

And gaudy birds, bright yellows, greens, reds,

blues, blacks, whites.

It was one of those rare times in an adult's life where the

world suddenly seems more magical rather than less.

I got so sick and tired of my friends,

who are non-birders, asking me,

"Oh, what's with the birding thing?

How come we're not seeing you in May?

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah,"

that I just wrote them down.

I wrote down the seven pleasures of birding,

so I can rattle 'em off, and say,

"Okay, this is why I do birding.

These are the seven pleasures."

Number one is the beauty of the birds. Duh.

Number two is the joy of being in a natural setting.

Number three would probably be the joy of scientific discovery.

Number four is the joys of hunting without the bloodshed

'cause you've gotta, you know, kind of stalk the bird very

often to get it without killing the bird.

Gone.

I can almost completely forget I' m in the city when I' m

walking through Central Park, especially in the North Woods.

You know, you feel really like you're in a

wildlife refuge at times.

I usually walk into an area and listen.

I spend a lot of time listening.

And I find peripheral vision is sometimes better than actually

looking for something.

But often times, you just see movement.

I'll spot a little tiny bit of movement,

either the color will be slightly different

than anything in the surrounding area.

But I'll be looking up and something will catch my

attention, and usually, it's a bird.

Number five is the joy of puzzle solving.

So it's a little bit of a game.

Well, what am I seeing? You know, what am I looking for?

Can I figure out what this is?

I love it when I just see a small portion of a bird

and then you have to sort of piece it together.

You watch. You wait. Maybe you never see the whole