A storm passed through New York City the other night. It left the city noticeably stark and weathered in appearance. For whatever reason this turning of season leaves me wanting to be outdoors and then reflect upon those observations in the micro studio that I inhabit. Late last winter, my sculptures took on a bold b&w color banding that I find myself again drawn to as winter makes it's approach.
Although I was disappointed as I watched the gorgeous leaves being sucked off the trees and promptly loaded into bags within Central Park, one gift remained in place of the leaves, it was a small group of migrating ducks. Now you may be thinking that autumn splendor can not be matched by ducks, but these are the designer ducks that I have only seen in my Peterson First Guide on Birds. As a child on a farm in Wisconsin, I spent many a long winter afternoon questioning if these ducks even existed or if it was some field guide ploy to make you spend your life seeking made up creatures. They did not look any thing like the big white roast-able (sorry ducks) ones that roamed our land and took dips in my plastic swimming pool with me. No, these had ruby red beady eyes and head fans that raised like sails. They looked slightly demonic and completely fake, that is until yesterday.
Yesterday changed everything. There they were flaunting their beauty to an uninterested female duck, and a very interested female human. Swimming in loopy loops and stretching their necks out to make a call that I can only compare to some of the uttering of cranes. A small bold duck that made an otherwise distracted jogger stop and ask me, "God, what is that?" The Hooded Merganser: Lophodytes cucullatus was there with three friends (one potential mate and two males that needed to get lost.) It was almost a mockery of adventure travel, here I was in central Manhattan viewing 5 species of birds that are rare or nonexistent in the many homes and home bases that I have had. One good storm was all it took to have them take shelter for the night. Here they were flopping about in the rays of the early morning sun in a very artificial pond in an artificially planted park. They were in paradise. Central Park would become their winter holiday home. When the couple "connects" they may push on to the lake or Turtle pond and nest there, but that is about all the searching they will probably do.
Every nature guide to New York notes that these "exotic" Canadian birds winter in the parks of New York. But most people when questioned say that they have never seen them. If I go to Jamaica Bay, I see Brants and Buffleheads, Osprey and a Black-Crowned Night Heron. One day I even got to see a White Pelican far far from home. But never the Hooded Merganser. Although the wind carried my leaves away, it left behind a childhood dream come true. It seems like a pretty fair trade.
