I was excited that the subject of this chapter of “City at the Water’s Edge” was about birds in New York City, especially since I have been paying close attention to the species in my neighborhood. The synagogue next door to my house has a blackberry tree that is taller than my three-story house, and its branches are sturdy enough to support a wide variety of wildlife, including birds, squirrels, and even wasps. Every morning for the past several months, my dad has been leaving out breadcrumbs for the birds to eat; at first, I thought that there would just be pigeons and sparrows, but I was thrilled to have encountered rare blue jays, European starlings, American robins, a Northern cardinal, a mourning dove, and a dark-eyed junco (I have photo evidence if anybody is interested). Ever since then, I have been trying to identify birds that I am unfamiliar with by searching based on their plumage, size, calls (if I hear them) and other identifiable features.
I am not a birdwatcher like McCully and her husband are, and I do not think that I would enjoy staying in the same spot for hours just watching birds fly by, regardless of how many species there might be. Nevertheless, I still have a soft spot for birds, along with most other people, most likely because of their aesthetic appeal, graceful flight, and beautiful songs. However, their variety probably sparks the most interest; to be honest, I did not think that the avian portion of biodiversity in New York City would be such an issue, but I was completely wrong. In this chapter, McCully mentions the passenger pigeon and heath hen becoming extinct over a century ago, so we probably only have crude drawings or black-and-white photographs to remember them. They met their demise by businesses trying to satisfy the fashion fads of the time or even hunters not hunting for food or survival but for sheer fun. This is yet another example of how people will take in everything that their environment offers them to the point that there is nothing left.
Despite the extinction of at least two species, McCully discusses how many harmful pesticides have been banned and how conservation organizations such as the National Audubon Society continue to function today. As great as this has been, some populations have been increasing tremendously, including the black-crowned night heron, growing from 1105 pairs in 1992 to 1887 pairs just a year later, and the double-crested cormorant, growing from 585 pairs in 1985 to 3528 pairs just a decade later (McCully 136-137). These birds may actually cause harm with their toxic droppings, nesting on private properties, and predation of insects that benefit us, such as bees, so their populations should be reduced to sustainable levels. The chapter is interestingly ended with a bittersweet quote that “what has been destroyed can never be created again” (McCully 145); extinct species cannot be brought back under normal scientific means, but we can definitely restore places to almost exact replicas with a few differences, and learn from our mistakes to provide for future generations.
