Long -tailed Duck is a bird that we don’t see too often in central Michigan, so it generates excitement when they do show up. I remember seeing them in fairly large numbers on Jones Beach on Long Island in the winter. My aunt and uncle live a few miles from there. On our summer visits to New York City to see our grandparents and cousins, we’d usually head out for a day at Jones Beach.
I had no idea that locale is such an amazing place to see birds in the winter. All I ever saw there was a fairly disturbing cross-section of humanity. From overly-tanned octogenarians with floral swim caps to young roughs with Popsicle-stained faces using the F-word, it was all there. The population was exuding an olfactory assault that was a haunting amalgamation of sun tan lotion, salt water and sweat. Of course it was suntan lotion, NOT sunscreen. Back in the 70s scientists were hard at work designing fluids capable of amplifying the UV rays and bronzing one’s epidermis. Later in their careers those same scientists probably made a fortune switching to formulating wrinkle creams and quack remedies for the basal cell carcinomas they helped us create.
We would begin our trip with a one-hour drive from Grandma’s North Bronx home in the Country Squire Station wagon. That was followed by a long hike from the parking area across the road, hauling a beach umbrella and a cooler that felt more like a bank safe. Looking at the distance on Google Earth today, I can see it wasn’t that far, but it sure felt it as a kid holding a cooler full of ice.
By the way, if you got out of cooler duty, you were tasked with transporting the beach umbrella. Now, as a little kid it might seem natural to use a beach umbrella as a lance to prod along your father, but it isn’t a stellar idea… especially if you use the pointy end. You will be “educated of the fact” in no uncertain terms and will quickly be switched over to the dreaded cooler duty. Fortunately, for the hike back to the car we could empty the ice out of the cooler so it was lighter.
Of course the station wagon was “preheating” under the scorching sun for 4-5 hours. Now that it was properly up to cooking temperature, you’d be blasted in the face with a jet of scorching air when you opened the oven… I mean “car” door. Of course there were no oven mitts inside, so you inevitably burned yourself on the seat buckles. On the positive side, that hour-long drive back to Grandma’s gave time for the glowing pain of the sunburn to start to mature into its full glory. You would also curse the designers of the Long Island Expressway as you felt every seam on the highway amplified by a full bladder and the diamond-abrasive lump of sand in your swimsuit. Upon getting back to the Bronx, my grandmother always had some ice-cold Cokes and snacks ready. That was the best part of the day.
My grandparents always sat out that day trip. Smart people.
Twenty years later I discovered that once the crowds of people leave for the winter, birds take their place. Jones Beach is a pretty fun place after all!
I show my age when birding because I have a tendency to use old names. In this case I opted for the less politically correct “Oldsquaw” name. It’s hard to rewire one’s brain, especially mine!
I got photos of this bird at the Toledo Zoo. I usually don’t paint many ducks, but I have an idea bubbling around in my cerebrum that calls for a ton of them.
Leave a Reply