In New York City’s 38-acre Ramble, You’ll Find a Secret Parcel of Urban Paradise

I had walked through Central Park’s serene, winding forested paths in the Ramble too many times to count. It was my morning meditation to reconnect with nature and escape New York City. But no matter the season, this 38-acre wooded landscape was and still is my Zen-like retreat.

When I looked up, there was not a steel or concrete building in sight. Just canopied treetops, blue skies and the occasional passing helicopter. There was not another human around, unimaginable in my city of 8.5 million people. 

On that recent Sunday, a posted sign indicated I was entering one of the top bird-watching destinations in the United States. 

I paused in surprise and elation.

Central Park welcomes more than 45 million visitors a year, but it’s not only the people who flock here. More than 230 bird species also make the Ramble their haven. Like many visitors to the city, more than 88 species stop here before continuing their journey along the Atlantic Flyway, a bird’s version of Interstate 95.

Tourists come to New York City for its landmarks, towering skyscrapers and unprecedented people-watching. In a man-made Gotham designed for people who never stop moving, the Ramble offers a softer side of Manhattan’s concrete jungle, tucked within the heart of the park where narrow trails wind through dense forest, rustic bridges, and meandering streams. In the Ramble, just north of the Lake and south of the Great Lawn, city life and nature coexist. 

‘Bird’ is the word

I’m a native New Yorker, and I have never paid much attention to birds – except maybe the metal ones flying overhead from La Guardia or Newark airports. I may know all the best brunch spots, but not where to birdwatch. Now, I am on a quest to learn what birders knew all along: Central Park isn’t just our communal backyard but an environmental wonder for all.

Of the many independent bird-watching tours and organizations online, I chose the Central Park Conservancy, the nonprofit organization that cares for Central Park and whose tours support the park directly. The website includes access to self-guided and guided tours, including the one I chose: the Birding Basics Tour.

 Ten blocks from my apartment, I met Juan Jesus, my Central Park Conservancy guide, along with two others from California at the Alexander von Humbolt Monument on 77th Street and Central Park West. I have walked by this statue often but had never given a thought to the bronze effigy of a man who was one of the most influential scientists and natural philosophers of the 19th century.

Jesus set the tone from the start. “New York can feel overwhelming,” he said. “People come together here to connect with nature. The Ramble is a filter for peace and quiet.” 

He handed me binoculars, and I placed them around my neck like a gold medalist. We were now off in search of feathery denizens as soon-to-be bona fide birders.

Explore using your bird brain

Like the city, the Ramble is home to resident and visiting birds. As we entered the Ramble, I spotted my first. It flew by me and settled on a nearby branch. I peered into my binoculars for a closer view: a female cardinal, tan with reddish-orange wings and bill (No. 4 in the collage above). 

“A friend told me that seeing red cardinals has some spiritual reference. Is it true?” I asked Jesus.

“Yes,” he said. “It is said that seeing one is a message from above.” If anyone knows about bird messages from above, it’s probably a guide named Juan Jesus. 

In the Maintenance Meadow, named for the location of the park’s service vehicles, birds fluttered within the dense shrubs and oak trees. A red-headed Woodpecker tapped on a tree and house sparrows communed. Only in New York City can “maintenance” and “meadow” hold such functional refuge for park goers, no matter what flight they took to get there.

Such a New York thing to do

The warblers were hardest to see because they flitted and twitched so fast. Out of nowhere, a yellow-rumped warbler flew and trilled right into my personal space, so brazen, as though I was the one in the way. Such a New York thing to do. 

I grabbed my notebook and scribbled the characteristics of the ones we weren’t sure of. I couldn’t keep up. All of my senses awakened, yet I had a hard time prioritizing. The birds were also hyper-alert and ready to take flight. 

They were watching us too. 

Surrendering to the experience of birding

In two hours of birding, I also saw blue jays, American redstart, black-and-white Warbler (they know our city’s prime fashion colors), gray catbird and a black-crown night-heron. The heron was channeling my inner Zen too,

“Birding,” Jesus said, “it gets to you. Distracts the busy mind. You have to surrender to the experience.”

The next morning, I walked the same paths in the Ramble on my own, without guide Jesus, without my iced coffee and without podcasts. I approached a group of birders waiting to photograph a ruby-throated hummingbird hidden in the wild-flowered jewelweed. The cold front made it a big day for birders, and 40 new winged migrants had arrived.

I found something new too, a community of New Yorkers who welcomed me into their nest of wonder within our always wild, ever-unfurling city.

Sometimes birds are just like us.