Write Poems About LI Coastal Hawk Migration

 

Poetry Writing Workshop Led by Maxwell C. Wheat, Jr.

First Poet Laureate, Nassau County, New York

 

Theodore Roosevelt Nature Center

Jones Beach State Park

 

To Register & for Directions

Phone: 516-679-7254

 

Sunday, September 19

9:30 A.M.-2 P.M.

Bring Brown Bag Lunch. Binoculars if Possible.

          Write  About Long Island’s Hawk (Raptor) Migrations

The Center is located right in the path of Peregrine Falcons, Osprey, American Kestrels, Merlins, Sharp-shinned and Cooper’s Hawks, Northern Harriers (“Marsh Hawks), etc. migrating westward down the barrier islands and spits of the Long Island coast.  On some days—thousands. Also crowds of Monarch Butterflies, other butterfly species and green darner dragon flies all migrating. An exciting day of Autumn migration and poetry.

Northwest winds that bring the fair weather days in autumn are also hawk migration winds over Long Island’s barrier lands. They give lift to the wings of migrating raptors flying against them, several thousand some days proceeding westward over the dunes and swales of the spits and islands that along the south shore of Long  Island hold back the Atlantic ocean from the mainland. These winds give lift to the spirits of hundreds of birders who come to these south coastal stretches for this annual pilgrimage of birds-of-prey.

 

What raptors (birds of prey) can you see on Long Island’s barrier lands (spits and islands)—hundreds or a few thousand a day? “Hawk” is a generic term covering different groups—falcons, accipiters and harriers. Falcons—Peregrine Falcon or “Duck Hawk,” Merlin or “Pigeon Hawk” and American Kestrel or “Sparrow Hawk”; Accipiters—Cooper’s Hawk and Sharp-shined (“Sharpie”) Hawk; Northern Harrier or “Marsh Hawk;” Osprey—“Fish Hawk.” Three to five Bald Eagles a season.  You find a large picture display illustrating these birds atop the steps of the Hawk Watch platform at the entrance of Fire Island National Seashore at Parking Field 5, Robert Moses State Park.

 

All summer most winds have been flowing in from the southwest laden with the sticky ocean moisture that clings to the skin. By September the low-pressure southwesterlies are replaced by the cooler and denser northwesterlies that chase out the dark stratus clouds. Yes, sometimes they carry precipitation and are churned into storms. That is when you are experiencing the “nor’westers,” as the sailors call them. But coming mostly over land the northwest winds do not pick up as much moisture as the ocean winds and, indeed, can be dry.

 

John Turner describes the migration in a book all poets writing about Long Island should own, Exploring the Other Island: A Seasonal Guide to Nature on Long Island (1994—Waterline Books, 438 River Bend Road, Great Falls, Virginia 22066: Phone 703-759-2206). Turner explains that “The migration of raptors is particularly heavy on the south shore of Long Island, due to the hawks’ taste for open expanses and ample food supplies. It probably is also in response to the barrier the Atlantic Ocean poses to a southbound bird. Many birds, raptors included, will shun large bodies of water and instead of flying across them, although it may be the shorter route, will follow the coast. Raptors traversing the island on their way south meet the Atlantic and turn west opting to follow the coastline…” The Fire Island Hawk Watch (name should be Raptor Watch) observers start keeping records of the first few coming August 20 continuing to November 20. Turner points out the birds begin to move through in heavy numbers “in early September and continue through late October, the peak being mid-September to mid-October.

 

“Weather plays a key role in influencing raptor flight,” Turner continues. “The best or heaviest flight days occur when a ten-to-fifteen-mile-per-hour wind blows from the north or northwest (often associated with a passing cold front). Generally the earlier in the morning the wind begins, the better the flight. Flights are also heavy following several days of inclement weather, when large numbers of ‘pent-up’ hawks move through.”    

 

Where are these raptors going? Hawk migration expert Donald S. Heintzelman writes, based on field studies, “Accipiters, notably Sharp-shinned Hawks, and Marsh Hawks, Ospreys, Pigeon Hawks and Sparrow Hawks tend to follow the Fire Island shoreline crossing the Fire Island inlet and continuing along  Jones Beach…most of these birds probably follow a diversion-line route along Long Island, perhaps cross Staten Island as well, then enter northeastern New Jersey at various points and continue southward as fairly scattered flights.” This is in Heintzelman’s book, Autumn Hawk Flights: The Migrations in Eastern North America (Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick, New Jersey—1975).

 

“Peregrine Falcons, however, evidently use a different route upon reaching Long Island,” Heintzelman writes. It is believed “most Peregrines follow the beach front along the south shore of Long Island for as much as one hundred miles, moving generally west.  After leaving Democrat Point on Fire Island, however, they sometimes make a 30-to 45-degree change in direction, by-pass the New Jersey coast, and continue over the water to the Delmarva peninsula” in Maryland.

 

         The Fire Island Hawk Watch platform is a poet’s opportunity. You look directly east at the 168-foot high Fire Island Lighthouse wrapped in two pairs of thick white and black bands. You can bet the raptors coming east over Fire Island National Seashore are following that lighthouse as a landmark, probably having been doing so since the structure was built and went into service November 1, 1850. Birds find their direction beholding mountain ranges, rivers, coastlines and prominent human-built structures—lighthouses. Paralleling these avian journeys, seafarers at the helms of their sailing ships up to 26 miles off the Long Island coast could follow the perpetually flashing light from Fire Island Lighthouse guiding them to New York’s port. A triumvirate of resources for insightful poetical allusions and dramatic imagery--lighthouse, vessels under canvas, coastal trade. 

 

The observers use the lighthouse with its wide bands as a landmark for telling others where to look for an oncoming bird. “Osprey left of lighthouse—top white band,” calls Tony Tierno, a retired surveyor from Smithtown. “Cooper’s Hawk right of lighthouse—lower black band,” points out Bob Kurtz, Valley Stream, retired marine biologist with the U.S. Army Corp of  Engineers. They use a number of land marks like a line-up of four telephone poles on the bay side for a speeding bird. “There’s a Merlin by the first pole,” a birder calls out. Then almost immediately with this particularly fast-moving raptor, “It’s flying past the third pole.”

 

Tierno and Kurtz volunteer as observers. They turn their tallies over to Trudy Battaly and Drew Panko, the coordinators of Hawkwatch: FIRE (Fire Island Raptor Enumerators) (www.battaly.com). Visit this website for striking photographs and videos of the migrants along with interesting information. Look for discussions examining whether Peregrine Falcons are increasing or kestrel numbers are decreasing.

 

To visit the Fire Island Hawk Watch, park your car at the east end of Parking Field 5 at Robert Moses State Park, take the boardwalk to the platform at the entrance to the Seashore. The observers are pleased to have this opportunity of educating the public by answering your questions.

 

You can use many parking areas on the barrier lands for good viewing sites. Example: West End Parking Field 2 at Jones Beach State Park. Park your car at the east end. Set up lawn chairs (at this site in the picnic area) facing east. You will be looking down the swale (nice sounding poetic word), the wide middle flat and partly vegetated sandy area between the ocean and back lines of dunes. Another good site is the Theodore Roosevelt Nature Center at West End Parking Field 1. Naturalists there will answer your questions.

 

“There they are!” a birder calls. A dozen to 20 “hawks” spread across the swale, some out over the salt marshes on the bayside or the ocean beach (the beach, also called the berm, being that part of a Long Island barrier land extending from the high tide line to the first bank of dunes). These birds do not move in disciplined flocks like the Canada Geese and cormorants you see overhead in their V-shaped formations. The raptors come  toward you—a couple of dark-hued Merlins to your left speeding across the parking field like they were shot from rockets. To your right, three or four American Kestrels, one “standing” on beating wings in a specific space in the air. A slowly flying large brownish Northern Harrier with white stripe across the base of its tail repeatedly appears above the dunes then drops down out-of-sight behind them. “Sharpies!” rings out as a few Sharp-shinned Hawks pass above you, alternately flapping wings, then coasting. A loud “Peregrine!” alert electrifies people’s excitement at the appearance of this icon bird of prey identified by its prominent black sideburn markings.

 

There is more migration pleasure—crowds of orange, black veined Monarch Butterflies heading for Florida and many to the Sierra Madre Mountains in Mexico. There are other migrating butterflies, the yellow sulphurs, for examples. Watch for migrating green darner butterflies—the big ones.

 

Poets, take out your notebooks and write!

         

                                                          Maxwell Corydon Wheat, Jr.