Spring Nesting Project Discovered

Mexican House Finch nest (photographed in Winter) a collaboration between the finches and myself. Nest created using synthetic and natural fibers.

New York, NY

This past Spring, I began to interact with the wildlife in my area while allowing that interaction to be as natural as possible. I had noticed a pair of Mexican House Finches that had wanted to nest in the palm tree in my apartment. They were chirping to each other as they eyed the tree through the glass window. It was clear that the two were out looking for a home. It was equally clear that my room was filled with sculptures that mimic the environments that wildlife are looking for. It dawned on me that we could work together and build a nest.

Now building a nest is no small task, so I left the building to the experts, the finches themselves. I became one of many neighborhood material providers. Some providers, like the workers at a nearby construction site were probably unaware that the finches were raiding their discarded rope and strapping materials. I was equally unaware of their other sources until I noticed their nest after a big snowfall this past January.

I began by collecting up all of the pieces of natural fibers that I had discarded in my studio. Bits of linen and silk thread, wool yarn and the like. I made a hanging sock out of a length of women's nylons that I also use in my work. Week after week seemed to go by and all I could hear were their chirping nearby. I decided to add other fluffier materials that could charm a finch. I loaded additional materials to the existing fibers, this time adding Spanish moss, and some eco packing materials made from recycled wood. The sock was now overstuffed with a great variety of materials and it worked it's magic.

Several pairs of Mexican House Finches began appearing at my window to raid the goods. There was an Alpha pair (the reddest male who has managed to gorge himself on the most red berries and turn himself brighter red than the rest) and two other pairs. What I had not considered was that the finches saw my early sock offering and probably decided on their nesting site due to the materials. When I heard them chirping nearby, they were building the base of the nest from the construction materials. My supplies provided the inner nest materials.

I managed to capture a bit of video of the Alfa Finch as he raided the goods. This was no small task, because he is quite adept at making a very quick raid. (I am currently editing this video clip for presentation later. ) The Summer came and went, and what I did not realize, due to the thick leaf cover, was that the finches raised their offspring about fifteen feet from my window.

Just a couple of weeks ago I was looking out my window when I spotted a blotch of snow suspended in the tree. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it was the nest containing the materials from my "nest helper" sock along with a great variety of other materials. I was, and continue to be quite happy with our collaboration.

The finch's ability to adapt to their changing world allowed them to make a fabulous storm proof nest. Will they reuse the nest? I doubt it, but I am not entirely sure. Most birds start from scratch every year. Which gives us a good reason to collaborate once again this next May.

Black and White

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.