Birds of Sunset Park: November is “Timberdoodle” Time

Fall migration comes in waves: the mass of warblers arrives first, in the early part of the fall, followed by a multitude of different New World sparrows. In November, as the temperatures start to feel genuinely chilly, the flow of new birds passing through New York City, heading south for the winter, tapers significantly. This means that when birders head out to their local patches looking for migrants, they really want a bird that makes them feel like they braved the cold for a good reason.

Thank God, then, for the American Woodcock, a bird that can warm the heart of even the most experienced birder. Also known as the “Timberdoodle” (wood = timber, cock = doodle), the woodcock is a bird so strange and wonderful that it seems kinda made up. If you don’t know what one looks like, imagine a potato with a chopstick stuck into it at one end … that struts around like a slow-motion chicken. The woodcock’s charm comes from its mildly absurd appearance and odd habits, but it is also a master of camouflage, so a lot of people’s first experience of them is accidentally “flushing” one (birder slang for spooking them into flying off), because they didn’t see it until they got too close. The first woodcock I ever saw was in Green-wood Cemetery and almost got stepped on by another birder who was oblivious to the fact that the bird was right in front of him!

Setting eyes on your first woodcock is a rite of passage for any lover of birds, and I was delighted and felt like I had ascended to a higher echelon of birding after I’d seen mine. But woodcocks are so strange and magical that it seemed almost impossible that I’d ever find one in Sunset Park, about as likely as striking gold. Amazingly, though, to date I have seen 21 woodcocks there.

I will never forget the day I saw my first Sunset Park woodcock — and then another five more that same morning! The dam broke on Nov. 8, 2022, when my neighbor and fellow bird enthusiast Justin texted me to say he had just seen a woodcock on the north side of the park. Heading to the spot he described, I found a pair that immediately flushed, making skittering calls as they flew off to a more protected area. My next aim was to photograph one of the woodcocks, maybe just to prove to myself what I’d seen was real! My best shot is included above.

A little coda about the specific American Woodcock in this picture. My friend Gabriel Willow, a professional birder and naturalist, joined me later that morning and was excited to see his first Sunset Park woodcock, too. The bird I’d photographed had settled under a bush, and I was taking Gabriel there when I saw a man walk up to that exact spot, unzip his fly and start to urinate. “Well, good luck finding the woodcock now — no way it’s still there!” I said. As a formality, though, we went to make 100% sure it was gone. Bizarrely, and to our great joy and amusement, it had steadfastly remained in the same spot, stoic in the face of great indignity.

If you see me out with my binoculars, come say hi — whether you’ve seen a strutting potato or not. And you can click on this link to join the Sunset Park birders WhatsApp group, to stay up on what birds are being seen in the neighborhood. Happy birding!