Autumn has begun!

A mockingbird with persimmons. Click to enlarge.

I'd like to think that if Walt Whitman were here right now, he'd say: 

"Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling, 

 Give me juicy autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard."

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Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

Click to enlarge. 

I saw this ring-billed gull at the East River today during a break in the rain. That's the Brooklyn Bridge in soft focus in the background. As I stood there, Walt Whitman came into my mind and I pictured him, as he had written, watching the gulls and the river 150 years ago. When I got home I reread the poem he wrote about it: Crossing Brooklyn Ferry. The ferry used to cross where the Brooklyn Bridge now stands.

Here are two excerpts and a link to Crossing Brooklyn Ferry by Walt Whitman,

"I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,

Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt,

Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd,

Just as you are refresh’d by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refreshed…"

'I too many and many a time cross’d the river of old,

Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high in the air floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies,

Saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts of their bodies and left the rest in strong shadow,

Saw the slow-wheeling circles and the gradual edging toward the south…'

Click here to read the entire poem on the Poetry Foundation's website.

Quiet Mockingbirds

I have seen where the she-bird, the mocking-bird, sat on her nest 

in the briers, hatching her brood. 

I have seen the he-bird also; 

I have paused to hear him, near at hand, inflating his throat,

and joyfully singing. 

Walt Whitman, Starting from Paumanok, Leaves of Grass

When I picture a mockingbird, it often looks like the one above -- sitting on a conspicuous perch with beak open and singing loudly. But mockingbirds don't sing in winter. I have written about winter mockingbirds before -- click here for an earlier blog -- but every year I notice their seasonal personality change. For the last few weeks, as the weather has become grey and cold, a mockingbird has been coming to my porch in the mornings looking for raisins.

Except for its flashy white wing patches, you might think it was an entirely different bird than its summer self. It is quiet! The famous singer has not a word to say. It is enough to give the widely held impression that mockingbirds fly south for winter. Some mockingbirds from colder places further north might move to warmer locations for winter, but in Brooklyn they stay put -- and rest their voices. 

This young Brooklyn mockingbird, born nearby in the summer of 2012, is hopefully among this year's winter visitors. 

Mmm... serviceberry! Click to enlarge. 

First Winter Herring Gull

A young herring gull, Larus argentatus, flying with a crab in its mouth. Herring gulls are common on both American coasts in winter. Click to enlarge.  

Herring gulls take four years to acquire their adult plumage, molting into different sets of feathers, each with a distinctive appearance, each summer and winter. The bird pictured above was born this year and is in its first winter plumage now in September: mottled brown all over, patterned wings, slightly paler head with a dark eye, a mostly black bill, and pink legs.

Walt Whitman, the poet, also stopped to watch gulls. He might have been thinking about herring gulls when he wrote this in his poem Crossing Brooklyn Ferry:

 ... seagulls -- I saw them high in the air, floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies, I saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts of their bodies, left the rest in shadow, I saw the slow-wheeling circles, and the gradual edging toward the south. 

Urban Wildlife :-)

I had the flu this week and could not go urban wildlife hunting. Here's a collection of urban animals from my archives -- click the pictures to enlarge.

"Animal totems, like the tiger, come from the Other Side, to protect us while we are away from home." Silvia Browne

"I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?" John Lennon

"An understanding of the natural world and what's in it is a source of not only a great curiosity but great fulfillment."  David Attenborough

"Does the bowl in the garden mock nature when night after night green frogs gather to prove it a pool? Who says you can't make a pond out of a bowl?" Han Yu

"I wouldn't mind turning into a vermillion goldfish." Henri Matisse

"I desired dragons with a profound desire. Of course, I in my timid body did not wish to have them in the neighborhood. But the world that contained even the imagination of Fafnir was richer and more beautiful, at whatever the cost of peril." J.R.R. Tolkien

"This is what you should do; love the Earth and sun and the animals." Walt Whitman

"Any glimpse into the life of an animal quickens our own and makes it so much the larger and better in every way." John Muir

The Northern Mockingbird

The northern mockingbird, Mimus polyglottus.

I am never on  my porch for very long before I notice a bird singing above the traffic and other city noise. The mockingbird in my garden sings all the time. Perched conspicuously on a rooftop antennae or treetop he lowers his wings, throws his head back, opens his beak, and sings. And sings. And sings.

Male mockingbirds sometimes sing continuously for more than an hour. In spring and summer they may start before dawn and some of them keep right on singing into the night, especially if seeking a mate and especially if there are bright lights or a full moon.

They are famous for singing a varied repertoire that includes phrases from other birds' songs. They are creative mimics and can pick up and string together surprising things like the sounds of frogs, or doorbells, or humans whistling. The mockingbird typically repeats a phrase 3 to 6 times and then sings another, all at a very loud volume. The singer may jump from his perch and quickly return with some fancy wing flashing. Mockingbirds are resident throughout North America all year but they draw our attention by singing mainly from February to July and then again from late August through October. 

Why all the singing? Mockingbirds are territorial; males chase away other males, females chase away other females. When a mated male sings, he mostly directs his songs into the territory -- he sings to the female within. But when an bachelor male sings, he broadcasts in all directions, probably hoping to impress a female  somewhere out there. Singing is a big part of a mockingbird couple's interaction; during sex the male sings when he approaches the female, sings during copulation, and sings after.

Loud! Loud! Loud! Walt Whitman quotes the bird. Read more below.

What kind of song impresses a female mockingbird? Something complicated! A recent study of mockingbirds around the world showed that those living in areas with more variable climate sing more complex songs, suggesting that better singers are smarter and better able to deal with the challenges of harsh weather; they just might make better, more resourceful fathers. (Click here for more details about the mockingbird climate study.)

Mockingbirds are gray above and white below. They are about 10 inches long, including the tail. The legs and tail look longish. The wingtips look rounded. White patches on wings and tail stand out when the birds fly.

In Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman wrote about a pair of mockingbirds nesting on Long Island, capturing the cadence of mockingbird song in his words. Parts of the poem are pasted below, click here for the rest.

 Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking – Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass 

OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,

Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle...

Once Paumanok,

When the lilac-scent was in the air and Fifth-month grass was

growing,

Up this seashore in some briers,

Two feather'd guests from Alabama, two together,

And their nest, and four light-green eggs spotted with brown,

And every day the he-bird to and fro near at hand,

And every day the she-bird crouch'd on her nest, silent, with bright

eyes,

And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturbing

them,

Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating. 

Shine! shine! shine!

Pour down your warmth, great sun.'

While we bask, we two together. 

Two together!

Winds blow south, or winds blow north,

Day come white, or night come black,

Home, or rivers and mountains from home,

Singing all time, minding no time,

While we two keep together...

Loud! loud! loud!

Loud I call to you, my love!

High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves,

Surely you must know who is here, is here,

You must know who I am, my love. 

Out from the patches of briers and blackberries