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Letter: Bristow Bird Sanctuary a ‘Most Treasured’ Hidden Gem

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We in New Canaan are truly blessed with Waveny, Irwin, and Mead Public Parks as well as our many Land Trust Preserves, but one of our most treasured hidden gems must be The Helen and Alice Bristow Bird Sanctuary and Wildwood Preserve. Yet, in spite of this, I suspect many of you might rightly ask – where is it, I’ve never even heard of it? Answer: Bristow Park is located right next to Mead Park. A little history lesson: Way back in 1918 the Migratory Bird Treaty Act made hunting migratory birds illegal – a practice mostly done to harvest brilliantly colored feathers to adorn women’s hats. Thanks to a group of far sighted New Canaan conservationists seeking to encourage interest in bird-life and protect native birds, the Bristow land was acquired in 1924 creating the third oldest private bird sanctuary in the nation.

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Letter: New Canaan Must Resolve Senior Housing Issues

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To the Editor,

For the last 52 years my wife and I have been privileged to live here in New Canaan. We have now been blessed with two of our sons returning with 7 of our grandchildren. As I am now 84 years old, that makes me a proud senior and the current subject of much debate here in town. I have spent the last 14 years working on the Boards of Getabout and Staying Put and, like many, I have become familiar with both the wonders and the ravages of old age – but what, pray tell, is to be done with me, now that I am old and gray –and less able to handle the 36 stairs in our home of 52 years? Although I may be slower, I continue to enjoy life and the rewards of living with my friends and family and contributing here in town.

News

Op-Ed: Celebrating Bristow Bird Sanctuary and Wildwood Preserve

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My wife Joan and I have lived in this extraordinary town of New Canaan for 50 years. I am, like my father before me, a dedicated birder. I guess you could say I was born a birder, since my very earliest memory was my dad entering the bedroom I shared with my older brother, whispering in my ear at 5:15 a.m. on a lovely spring morning saying, “Come on Philly, wake up, the day’s a wasting, and you and I are going birding.” Off we would go, me perched high up on his shoulders, into the woods that surrounded our neighborhood. 

The instructions were always the same and quite simple—no whining, we are going to have fun today, no noise, just look and listen as I point out all the magnificent birds of the forest. All the songbirds and yes, their predators too, the hawks and owls and other birds of prey. He would suddenly stop—pull on my right leg and and whisper, “Listen up: that’s a Rose Breasted Grosbeak and over there is a Veery.” Then a pull on the left leg as he excitedly exclaimed, “Oh, there’s a Wood Thrush and look at that Pileated Woodpecker!”

From these earliest experiences you can see that I became hooked on birding.