O ye great, smoggy masses of concrete and stone, vessels of grayness and unchallenged humanity, sprawling onwardly to a circumference of strip malls and manicured lawns! Where in your labyrinthine depths are those small, warbling things – where are your birds?
Cities, in spite of their hordes of invasive rock pigeons, house sparrows, and European starlings, may seem starkly removed from the natural existence. Indeed, connecting with natural splendor is a difficult task when car horns blare and street lights beam. Is the urban naturalist, then, doomed to oxymoron? Apparently not. While cities certainly lack the year-round diversity of less populated areas, they can harbor a surprisingly diverse array of species in migration. This phenomenon is due to the alluring effects of “micro-parks”.
“Micro-parks” are what they sound – not vast landscapes of marshland or boreal forest – but small chunks of green in a sea of gray. When birds migrate – and many migrate at night – they will often find themselves over cities once the sun rises. Rather than disperse evenly amongst foodless human settlements, they will concentrate in what little greenery they can find. Even the smallest park can bear witness to these concentrations. Take the example of Bryant Park.
Nestled in between 5th and 6th ave, Bryant Park pales in comparison to New York City’s more prestigious Central Park; It features a sorry stretch of sycamore trees and bushes surrounding the turf lawn that comprises most of its area. Ecological dearth notwithstanding, Bryant Park has produced very rare birds. Many of these birds, drawn to it out of migratory desperation, would normally be found in totally different habitats – take, for instance, its record of Virginia rail – an inhabitant of freshwater marshes – or salt marsh sparrow – an inhabitant of, predictably, saltwater marshes. These birds are habitat specialists, and are very seldom seen apart from their preferred habitats. Herein lies Bryant Park’s triumph. Bryant Park has neither freshwater, saltwater, nor marshes – yet it has records of these species!
In addition to this, micro-parks such as Bryant Park do a good job of concentrating “vagrant” species – that is, species that venture beyond their typical range. The reason for this is the same as the reason micro-parks concentrate migrants: a single vagrant bird flying over a metropolis has fewer options for where to land, increasing the likelihood that it will land in a given park. One such bird, which I had the good fortune to see in Bryant Park on April 2015, was this chuck-will’s-widow – a species whose range is restricted to the southern part of the US:
All in all, urban naturalists have a lot to work with if they look in the right areas! Consistent inspection of micro-parks during Autumn (late August-November) and Spring (April-late May) migration is bound to turn some unexpected birds up eventually!