Finding Feathers Long Island

Gardner County Park

Hello again! Let me start off by saying that this will surely be one of my most memorable adventures to tell you about, and I’m sure you will find it to be for different reasons then you may be guessing.  This past weekend my husband Steven and I set out to explore Gardiner County Park in Bayshore. Now, let me start off very honestly right from the beginning when I say that I was not expecting much of this park. From the research I had done, the general feel I had gotten was, “it’s a dog park”, I was figuring a field and chain link fences, maybe some benches and a strip of weedy beach access. Wow, I could not have been more wrong!

When we first pulled up I was immediate, pleasantly surprised.  We parked in a large parking lot and looked out at a beautiful small pond surrounded by a lush lawn scattered with American Robins. As we approached I was nearly overwhelmed by the number of dogs; mind you I am a through and through dog lover… all animal lover to be clear. I have been to quite a few dog parks in my life and two things jumped out right away: #1 this was no dog park, this is a park that allows and encourages dogs. #2 I have never seen so many people walking dogs in one place at one time. Like a warm ray of sunshine, you could feel the friendliness and sense of community as soon as we approached. It was obvious that many of the people, and dogs, came here regularly and knew one another, at least by sight. I strolled up to the tiny pond to look around and was surprised at how little activity there was, not even a Mallard duck floated along the surface. Then, as I turned back in the direction of the path, a large Great Blue Heron streaked across the sky above me.

American Robin

American Robin

Great Blue Heron in Flight

Starting out on the trail I was transported to another world, a hidden enchanted forest perhaps,  filled with exquisite twisting trees and soft sunlight fighting through a canopy of intertwined branches and vines.  The trail was primarily straight with little decision making left up to us, which let us focus all of our attention to the birds dotting the landscape. The number of calls and songs echoing through the woods was nothing shy of incredible, at times I could not even decide in which direction I wanted to look first. First to come to visit was our very own tiny tour guide, a breathtaking Northern Cardinal. For the next few yards, he hopped along the dirt path leading the way, checking back on us every few steps. From then on we were focused on getting a clear view of a tiny bird that seemed to be delighting in spinning us in circles, flying past our eyes so fast we hardly even noticed at all, calling from its hiding within the woods, and flitting away as soon as we turned its way. Finally, we were able to get a clear look, as well as a few photos, and it was absolutely worth the wait. A tiny Golden Crowned Kinglet flitted about in a tree beside us, one of my favorite birds and my first sighting of the year. To my surprise, as I snapped away, photo after photo, another visitor appeared in the very same tree. I had almost scanned right over him but there, through my camera lens, I watched as a Tufted Titmouse fought for the spotlight. Moving on down the trail we came to an area where the trees seemed to temporarily give way to brambles and low bushes; and from those bushes, a symphony boomed. On my hands and knees, I lowered to the ground attempting to get my camera into a position where I could see up into the brambles clearly enough to get a shot of its residents. A mob of White-Throated Sparrows is what I was faced with. Another of my favorite birds but yet a bird I feel is very difficult to photograph, in my experience always wanting to immerse themselves in the brush and making for a very busy, or more often blurry, photograph.

Northern Cardinal

Golden-Crowned Kinglet

Golden-Crowned Kinglet

White-Throated Sparrow

Tufted Titmouse

  From here we found ourselves at our first fork in the road, deciding to head left onto Raccoon Trail we pressed on. After a short walk, we came to a slight bend in the trail with a series of unique, Viney trees and an interesting bird flitting between them. At first, I will be honest, I did not recognize it. It was not until I came home and flipped through my Field Guide that I realized what it was; a Yellow-Rumped Warbler. After stopping for several minutes to photograph him another bird caught our eye, climbing up the bark of a nearby tree trunk. A stunning, richly colored Brown Creeper beautifully camouflaged against the flaking bark.

Raccoon Trail Marker

Yellow-Rumped Warbler

Yellow-Rumped Warbler

Distinctive “Yellow Rump” of the Yellow-Rumped Warbler

Brown Creeper

The Golden-Crowned Kinglet continued to fly along beside us as we walked, here it gives a clear shot of his distinctive ‘Golden Crown’.

Golden-Crowned Kinglet

Golden-Crowned Kinglet

From here the trail led to a decently sized stream/pond area almost entirely hidden behind a wall of reeds. We could hear the quacking of ducks from within and tried our best to find a clearing for a better view but the waterfowl seemed to know exactly where to stay to be out of view of prying eyes, and cameras. We did, however, manage to see a Mute Swan and a few Mallard Ducks and while we walked the line of reeds a female Wood duck took flight from its cover. Also, perched in a tree beside us, looking on at the water sat a male and female Northern Cardinal and a lone Black-capped Chickadee.

view of stream

Another viewing area of the stream

Northern Cardinal

Female Northern Cardinal hiding within some reeds and bramble

Female Wood Duck in flight

Mute Swan

Black Capped Chickadee

Mallard Ducks

As we continued on there were ample trails to chose between and sadly I cannot recall each one that we walked down, but all that we did were stunning. Due to the fact that snow was still melting away in some spots and it had been raining and cold up until today the ground as we walked closer and closer to the shore became more and more saturated and muddy. The trails began to range from a little damp in areas to mud nearly half way up our shoe in others; however, Steven and I, having never been afraid of getting a little dirty, pressed on. The Path we followed spidered out at times with tiny sub-trails, most only a few yards long and leading to a view of water or a clearing or such. We tried exploring as many as possible since it is usually people like us that these baby trails are geared towards. After a long while of walking and exploring we came to another sub trail on our left looking even muddier than the rest. I insisted on going in to check it out while Steven opted to stay back on the main trail, a view of the beach almost within sight up ahead. The tiny trail was thick with mud, walled in tight with thick barricades of water reeds. At times the mud became so thick and wet that it raised up all the way over the laces of my hiking boots and I nearly turned back, however, I could see that the trail opened up to a clearing not too far ahead and I was determined to see the fruits of my labor.

The view at the end of the trail was breathtaking and everything I could have hoped for. A clear view of the pond we had been struggling to get a look at was in the distance to my left and a postcard-like view of the shores of the Great South Bay shimmered to my right. Ahead of me appeared to be a very large muddy field with a maze of small streams and sun-bleached fallen trees, covered in a thick blanket of grey/brown beach grass and speckles of new spring greenery. I ventured out a few yards spying ducks and swans on the pond and an immense cluster of flocks merging in the skies above. Mallards, Mute Swans, and Northern Shovelers floated atop the crystal waters while bands of Northern Shovelers, Gadwalls, Green-Winged Teals and a lone Great Blue Heron Soared through the air in stunning numbers. Opposite me at the far side of the field a large raptor perched in a tree and the excitement rose within me, quickly I began to venture further out, ignoring the rising mud, determined to get my shot! Having spotted me, the great bird lifted from his perch and circled the field only mere feet above the land, my pace quickened and my shutter raced trying my best to get a quality shot despite our growing distances. For what seemed like forever I trecked around the field attempting a shot at the raptor and following racing Tree Swallows with my lens,  clicking away photo after photo but never getting close enough for a great shot before eventually the raptor turned and flew away, the swallows departed and I finally lowered my camera. It was now that I saw just how far from the trail I had wandered and became concerned, my thighs burning and shaking from trudging through the deep mud.

The glistening Ocean was now much closer and the white sand beach seemed far easier to reach then trecking back to the path. I attempted to shout to Steven back on the trail, who no doubt was growing concerned at this point, hearing no answer and growing nervous and fatigued I decided to head to the beach and meet back up with him on the trail that way instead of heading back the way I came. Now, my pace much faster and my focus has switched from exploring to just making it back to more solid ground I allowed my camera to hang freely around my neck. What I thought looked like an easier path quickly turned out to be quite the opposite, the mud rising up over my ankles with every step and hoards of insects dancing over the wet earth. Able to see people on the beach ahead of me I still felt miles away from anyone and fear was pushing tears up in my eyes as my legs shook and screamed for rest. What had started out as a quick walk through a dog park was now the furthest thing from it. Finally, the sand of the beach was close enough for me to see shells and stones and hear the rushing of the ocean, but a stream divided me from it, nearly 3 feet wide and equally deep. The thought of having to turn back at this point nearly dropped me to my knees, I walked along the stream searching for an area to pass but at no point did it seem to narrow and I realized I was going to have to make a decision, leap or turn back. I took a few steps backward, replaced the lens cap on my camera and jumped, clearing the water by only a hair but falling to my hands and knees in the soft ground. I got back to my feet, rubbed my hands on my pants and checked that my camera had not hit the mud. Thinking I was home free and had finally made it I breathed a much-anticipated sigh of relief. Again I continued walking towards the shore only a small ridge, a foot high at most standing in my way. My eyes began searching for the entrance back onto the trail, no longer focusing on the tiny stretch of field standing between me and sand. That was when it happened, with my next step my foot disappeared into the earth quickly followed by my leg and soon the rest of my body. Before I could even take a breath I was chest deep in what I can only classify as quicksand. The fear and panic were like nothing I had ever felt. Trying to be a logical person I determined it must have been a very murky pool of water I fell into, hidden beneath the grass, so naturally, I attempted to swim my way out of it causing me only to sink further. Left with no other choice I held my camera up over my head and screamed for someone on the beach to come help me. ( just to paint a picture for you, a woman close by heard me and turned but could not see me as I was so far into the ground) Finally a woman spotted me and came to my aid, a birder herself and having the same mindset as myself she immediately grabbed my camera and rushed it to safety ( which, if I had not been neck high it mud soup I would have found very comical) she helped move some sticks close by that I could grab onto and pull myself up onto. Panting and crying she stood by helping me to collect myself, I thanked her for her help and grabbed my camera, but my focus was on Steven, who I knew must be a panicked mess at this point. Racing towards the trail as fast as I could move I dripped with sludge and emitted a cloud of low-tide stench turning quite a few heads and generating even more whispers and side-eyed looks. Then my heart sank as I saw steven trecking out into the field I had just come through, obviously upset and looking for me. I screamed at him to turn around and go back to the trail, from this angle seeing very clearly that it was not a field at all as I had first thought, but a swamp. Racing up the trail I felt helpless, hoping he had heard me and was turning around. And then, I spotted him up ahead of me safe on the trail, I through my arms around him caring not a lick about the mud or the smell and cried. We walked back to the car in silence, both of us shaken and upset. Hiding between the doors of his truck I removed whatever clothes I could manage and laid some cover over the seats before getting in. Luckily, after a few minutes in the car realizing we were both safe and on our way home he broke the silence by asking, “so? did you see anything good at least?” and we both relaxed.

The Initial view of the “field” at the end of the sub-path

Great Blue Heron in flight

Green-winged Teals in flight

Great Blue Heron with Green-Winged Teals and Mallards in flight

Various duck flocks merging over the pond (identifiable: Mallard, Gadwall, Green-Winged Teal)

Northern Harrier

Northern Harrier

Tree Swallow

View of Great South Bay in the distance from the field

Northern Shovelers in flight

View of the pond from the field: Mute Swan, Mallard Duck, Northern Shoveler

view of the pond

Coming to the end of the field, still a long way further than it appears

Gadwalls in flight

Northern Shovelers in flight

Last photo taken in the field before the ‘incident’

Later when I finally looked through my photos I saw that the raptor was, in fact, a Northern Harrier, a Life Bird for me, though I wish I could have managed a better shot. Despite everything, this park was incredible and full of life at every bend. This was ultimately my own fault, having been excited and not really paying attention to my surroundings. I absolutely will be returning to this park, though next time slightly more cautious as to where I walk. Until next time my friends be safe and happy birding!

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1 Comment

  1. Laura

    Fabulous and quite adventurous! So grateful that our girl is safe.

    Reply

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