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Posts Tagged ‘Geology’

Pelham Bay

Birdwatching and salt marshes in New York City‘s largest park.

 

by Sheila Buff,

 

Pelham Bay Park is the largest park in New York City. It covers 2,766 acres in the northeast part of the Bronx. Within the park are many popular recreation areas: mile-long Orchard Beach on the Long Island Sound, two golf courses, miniature golf and a driving range, a stable, tennis courts, baseball diamonds, and picnic grounds. If you look beyond all the recreational facilities, however, you’ll see that this park has a very diverse range of habitats–the most diverse of any park in the city or nearby. About 200 acres of the park are saltwater marshes; there are 13 miles of shoreline.

            Once the site of Siwanoy Indian hunting and fishing grounds and later the site of fashionable mansions, Pelham Bay became a park in 1888 when New York City bought and consolidated 28 private estates. All the houses, except the historic Bartow-Pell mansion, were torn down. In the 1930s, the park was developed as a major recreation site. Landfill was used to create a huge, mile-long beach with a massive bathhouse at Orchard Beach. Extremely popular ever since, Orchard Beach is often called the Riviera of New York City. The beach and surrounding area are always crowded in the warm weather; on a summer weekend, the 45-acre parking lot is jammed.

            The Thomas Pell Wildlife Sanctuary and the Hunter Island Marine Zoology and Geology Sanctuary were created in 1967, as part of an agreement that narrowly avoided having the wetlands of the park being turned into landfill by the city. The 375-acre Pell sanctuary along the Hutchinson River is all that remains of New York City’s original 5,000 acres of salt marsh. This area is bisected by the Hutchinson River Parkway; it is bounded by the bland apartment towers of Co-Op City on the east, by railroad tracks on the west, and by the New England Thruway to the north. The partially paved Split Rock trail runs along the western border of Goose Creek Marsh and provides some excellent views out over the tidal marsh. This can be a good spot for birding, but frankly, I find the traffic noise very oppressive. If you want to check it out, the trailhead is to the west of the Bartow traffic circle. The round trip is less than a mile.

            The Kazimiroff Nature Trail through the Hunter Island sanctuary is a much more pleasant walk. The trail is named for Dr. Theodore Kazimiroff (1914-1980), a dentist and local historian who was a leader in the fight to defeat the landfill proposal in the 1960s. The trail winds through 189 acres of one of the most beautiful sections of the park. The path is very easy to follow.

            Look for sign for the trailhead at the northern end of Orchard Beach (walk away from the promenade), about 30 yards before the Orchard Beach Nature Center at Section 2. Follow the trail as it leads into the woods of Hunter Island. In a few minutes if you look to the right you’ll see Twin Island. Actually, Twin Island and Hunter Island are islands no more. When Orchard Beach was expanded in 1934, 2.5 million cubic yards of sand,soil, and rock were used to fill the area between Hunter Island and Rodman’s Neck; in 1947, additional fill connected Twin Island to the tip of Orchard Beach. There is currently no safe access to Twin Island; Hunter Island is really now a peninsula.  The sheltered lagoon that was formed between the two islands is an outstanding place to see waterfowl, particularly ducks.

            In another few minutes, the trail forks to the left towarda stand of Norway spruce. These dense evergreens were planted by the Parks Department in 1918 as part of a reforestation effort.

            Follow the trail to the left. The spruces soon give way to large numbers of  thin black locust trees–look for the deeply furrowed bark and small, rounded, paired leaves. Black locust is a pioneer tree in forest succession. This tells you that the land here was once an open field‑-perhaps a pasture or a lawn more than 50 years ago. Your surmise will be proved correct in a few more minutes to the former site of the old Hunter mansion, which was demolished in 1937. Vestiges of the old gardens can still be seen here.  

            As you continue on, you’ll quickly come to a grove of white pines. The dense needles and comfortable horizontally layered branches make these trees a favorite roosting place for great horned owls (Bubo virginianus). Long-eared, saw-whet, screech, and barred owls are also sometimes seen here. They’re so well camouflaged that you’re unlikely to actually see any, but you should be able to see evidence of their presence, especially in the winter. Look for splashes of “whitewash” excrement on the trunks, branches, and ground around here. Look on the ground for grayish owl pellets. The pellets consist of the regurgitated indigestible parts‑-mostly the bones and hair–of the animals the owl eats. Pine trees of various sorts have been extensively planted throughout the park. The shelter they offer, combined with the large, open, rodent-filled expanses of Pelham Bay, make the park famous among birders for owls. Another excellent area to see owls here is in the dense evergreens near the Bartow-Pell mansion.

            As you continue on, you will notice the reforestation that Parks has been doing of the area, as well as the removal of invasive species.Some old chocolate-brown stone blocks strewn on either side of the trail are all that remain of the estate’s front gate. From here, the trail continues on the original winding road that connected Hunter Island to the mainland.

            The trail now leads through a large area of open, mature woodlands. The trees here are mostly oak and hickory, with some towering tulip poplars as well. As the trail curves eastward, you can catch glimpses of the Long Island Sound to your left.  The trail soon brings you out to a view over salt marsh to the Sound and you are now in the Hunter Island Sanctucary. Note the giant, rounded glacial erratics here. The really large gray boulder that sticks up out of the water is called Gray Mare; it was sacred to the Siwanoy Indians who once lived here. The flat, gray bedrock visible here is the southernmost extension of the bedrock that underlies most of New England–that’s why the shore is rocky here. Glacial scours, or deep grooves, can be seen on the surface. There are some side trails leading down to the rocks that are fun to explore, especially when the tide is low.

            The large building that you see on the shoreline to the north belongs to the New York Athletic Club. The large island just across the water is Glen Island. The island further to the northeast is David’s Island; the buildings on it are part of old Fort Slocum.

            The shore area here is an excellent place to watch hawks and ospreys migrating south in the fall. The best time of year is mid-September–you could see literally thousands of hawks go by in a single day. If you’re lucky, you’ll see an osprey snatch a fish from the water.

 

Pelham Lagoon

 

            The trail now leads you back along the inlet between Hunter and Twin islands. The salt marsh along here is quite interesting…and fragile so take care when walking . Tall cordgrass lines the water’s edge; behind it is a low-growing salt meadow. Look for saltmarsh plants such as glasswort and sea lavender here. The salt marsh is one reason there are so many ducks, geese, cormorants, grebes, and other water birds here. The shallow, tidal waters edging a salt marsh are highly productive of the vegetation and small crustaceans, fish, and other foods these birds need.

            Continue to follow the path along the salt marsh and back past the old causeway. You’ll be back at your starting point in another five minutes.

Hours, Fees, and Facilities Pelham Bay Park is open daily from dawn to 1 am, unless signs are posted otherwise. Orchard Beach is open from Memorial Day to Labor Day from 7 am – 8 pm (beach closes at 7 pm), and off-season from 7 am – 6 pm.  During the summer, there is a fee for parking:  $6 on weekdays and $8 on weekends for cars; $8 on weekdays and $10 on weekends for buses. Restrooms, water, pay phones, and a seasonal snack bar are available at the bath house complex on Orchard Beach. Dogs on leashes only; be prepared to clean up after your pet.  Pursuant to Parks rules and regulations, dogs are never allowed on beaches; however, as a courtesy leashed dogs are allowed on the sand from October 1 to May 1.

 

Getting There:

 

Pelham Bay Park is the last stop on the Lexington Avenue IRT 6 train. The station is a very long walk from the main part of the park. In the summer, the Bx5 and Bx12 buses run from the subway station to Orchard Beach. The rest of the year, you’ll have to take the Bx29 bus that goes to City Island, get off at the traffic circle on City Island Road, and walk north along the park road about a mile to Orchard Beach.

            From the Bruckner Expressway or the New England Thruway, take the exits for Pelham Bay Park/Orchard Beach and follow the signs to the parking area at Orchard Beach. From the Hutchinson River Parkway, take the exit for Orchard Beach/City Island and follow the signs.

 

Get Involved:

WildMetro and NYC Audubon will lead a free tour of Pelham Bay Park on July 19. Register online for this great event, and please consider volunteering for these two groups, which are at the forefront of conservation and urban ecological restoration.

 

Also, ask the Bronx staff at Partnerships for Parks about local, grass roots volunteer efforts to nurture Pelham Bay Park!

 

Read more of Sheila Buff’s work at her website.

 

 

 

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Horenstein and rocks.

 

We’ve had some frustrating wifi problems and wanderings today and last night in trying to get this week’s WildWire posted, so please forgive the delay in alerting you to this great walking tour:

 

Sidney Horenstein’s If Manhattan Was Schist, It Wouldn’t Be Gneiss

Thursday, Jun 12, 2008
6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m.
Manhattan

Join Sidney Horenstein for a leisurely stroll among the intriguing rock formations of Fort Tryon Park and learn why, although the Bronx is Gneiss, it’s nice to live on Manhattan’s Schist.

Sidney Horenstein, Geologist and Educator Emeritus at the American Museum of Natural History, is your guide to the geological wonders of northern Manhattan Island.

Location: Meet at Margaret Corbin Circle at the southern entrance to Fort Tryon Park.

 

(Our full WildWire posting will follow this evening.)

 

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600px-orion_nebula_-_hubble_2006_mosaic_18000.jpg

by Erik Baard

If Nature Calendar holds any value, it will be measured by how much it nurtures the feeling that your life is woven into a whole, a kinship that won’t be walled within a name. May I then call you to witness, this first weekend of spring, the birth of suns and worlds and seas?

Tonight, turn away from the busy glare of dutiful streetlamps and hurtling headlights. Climb the stairs to the roof, crawl out onto the fire escape, or stroll into the open green of a park and look to the southern sky for square-shouldered Orion. Better yet, join the star party hosted by the Amateur Astronomers Association of New York at Great Kills Gateway National Park, next Saturday, April 12.

But quietly defy millennia of tradition and see before you not a mythological hunter, but a mother.

“For many years I’ve thought the Greeks got it wrong,” said astrophysicist Mordecai-Mark Mac Low, who uses supercomputers to simulate and study stellar evolution in nebulae at the American Museum of Natural History. “If she’s giving birth to stars below her belt, Orion’s a woman.”

The Orion Nebula (a faint smudge of light reaching us across 1,600 light years of space but seen in the photo above with the Hubble Space Telescope‘s crystal clarity) had been imagined to be the center of the constellation’s sword. In fact, the Orion Complex, composed of the nebula and billowing gases and dust behind it, doesn’t resemble the clean lines of a blade so much as the hazy shape of an ultrasound, and for good reason. You’re gazing into a cosmic cloud womb.

Planetary scientist David Grinspoon also dismissed Orion’s “macho hunter dude” image and asserted, “That stellar womb has the right placental nutrients to create life. As sure as I can be about anything without direct empirical evidence, I am sure that’s where our star brethren are being born.” Grinspoon is the astrobiology curator of the Denver Museum of Nature and Science and author of Lonely Planets: A Natural Philosophy of Alien Life. He is also the interdisciplinary scientist of the European Space Agency’s ongoing Venus Express mission and a lead investigator for a radiological instrument on a coming NASA rover mission to Mars.

Our closer stellar family, from the sun to the far-flung tumble of ice worlds and comets and sister stars, may have been born in just such a place 4.65 billion years ago.

“It’s almost like a view to our own origins, and it’s happening all over the universe. Because it’s so close and we have such a good view, the Orion Nebula gives us a wonderful chance to peer outward and at the same time feel like we’re peering backward and peering inward,” Grinspoon said.

Mac Low agreed. “That’s an increasingly well supported idea,” he said.

Natural philosophers Immanuel Kant and Herbert Spencer intuited the “Nebular Hypothesis,” that there was a seamless evolution from dust to intelligence. Scientists now recognize that it’s quite a rough and uncertain ride over that arc, but the beauty and utility of that vision endures and instructs.

The Orion nebula, visible to the naked eye and lovely through binoculars or a telescope, is a scrim of hot, ionized gases blown about by the jets, shock waves, and ejected “wind” of stars birthing, churning, and dying. It twists into, and partially obscures, a trillion-mile wide molecular cloud containing hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, silicon, iron, and hundreds of compounds including organic substances like ammonia and methane. It’s a deep space ecology, of sorts.

Much of the material is collapsing under gravity to form new stars. The youngest and brightest of them is estimated to be a mere 10,000 years old. When it ignited, the artist from Germany’s Aurignacian culture who carved an apparent Orion star map and pregnancy chart into a sliver of mammoth tusk was already dead for over 20,000 years. Contemporaries of that star birth might have wished they could feel some of that new heat. In what would become New York City, villagers were then huddled between the foot of a receding ice sheet and rising seas.

Other juvenile stars are accreting protoplanetary discs. So far astronomers have counted what appear to be 2,300 of them in the Orion Complex, using the Spitzer Space Telescope. Heavier elements in the dust are fossils of ancestral stars that synthesized them in their increasingly strained, aging fusion generator cores before catastrophic deaths. Not only does the grittier stuff coalesce to form rocky worlds, but by shading hydrogen and oxygen from energetic ultraviolet light, it allows water to form.

According to readings from an infrared space telescope survey, the Orion cloud complex is producing water at a daily rate that would fill all of Earth’s oceans 60-times over, and already contains a million times more water than our planet. Casting our vision billions of years forward, fantasies can readily conjure a great harbor city showing as a beacon on the night side of a “lonely planet,” in a dark region of space where the Orion Nebula has long been consumed away.

How precious our moment is, a time when carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen have been formed into our brains and sensitive fingertips, to enjoy caressing striations carved into Central Park’s exposed silicate bedrock by glaciers of hydrogen and oxygen.

We are a single pulse in the body of what my murdered friend, science maverick Eugene Mallove, celebrated as The Quickening Universe.

May we at Nature Calendar never fail to remind you that this single cosmic pulse is your season to bloom.

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