Tuesday, November 19, 2024

G-Dog

 

Coyote at Grandview Park

Once again I was close to home, nearly done with my walk and looking forward to getting on the bike, when I was glad I'd packed the camera along with me. Just past a sparrow balancing on a twig next to the road, I was surprised to see a coyote with her back to me. Must be G-Dog. It took a minute for her notice me (photo above), and a potential meal kept her there for another minute until she pawed half-heartedly at the sand and came up empty.

She casually walked away from me, and I once again climbed the stairs to try to keep an eye on her. I reached the top and walked around to the other side of the hill without spotting her. There isn't a lot of cover, so I wandered back the way I'd come, and there she was, heading toward me along the trail. 

She turned around as soon as she saw me, but this time I was able to follow her movements all over the hill. Surprisingly, no one else appeared to notice her. I suspect it's one of those things where people don't see what they don't expect. People climb the stairs to take in the the long views over the city and beyond. They don't even notice a coyote roaming around on the hill itself.












Just can't resist a cooperative Townie.


Almost no birds on Seal Rocks today.

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Monday, November 18, 2024

Street Birds

 

Townsend's in Town

I walked all the way to the beach and back, but only took out my camera within a block of home. On the way out, I saw a Townsend's warbler working the ivy that clings to a concrete retaining wall, but it got spooked by a passing car and flew away. I got a second chance when I returned about an hour-and-a-half later.

Meanwhile, down at Ocean Beach, all the sanderlings I saw last week had moved on. Looking back over the last couple of years, I've been disappointed by the lack of shorebirds down there. Back around 2007-08 I did photography at Ocean Beach quite often and encountered much more bird life, from sanderlings and snowy plovers to whimbrels, curlews, godwits, and willets.







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Friday, November 15, 2024

Looking for the Beaver Moon

 

The Beaver Moon, the last supermoon of 2024, rises in partial obscurity.

They say the name comes from this being the time of year when the beavers in their thick winter coats kick back in their well-stocked lodges. Among the other names for November's full moon, I actually prefer the Deer Rutting Moon, or the Frost Moon, since deer and frost are closer to home than beavers.

I walked over to Grandview Park in the hope of catching the moon as it rose above the East Bay hills, but cloud cover obscured its entrance. It was still kind of cool to see it at first, cloud-hidden. Is that really it? I had to confirm through my long lens. Even the little sliver soon disappeared behind the thicker clouds above it, so I switched over to the other side of the park to catch the last minutes of sundown, then returned to recapture the moon's escape from the clouds.


There was hardly a cloud in the sky on the western horizon.


Last Light


The moon finally cleared the clouds and arced over Sutro Forest.


A little after 5 p.m., and day already turning to night.


By the time I walked home from the park, the moon was rising behind Sutro Forest. This and the previous shots are from the Nikon D800E.


I snapped a shot with the Panasonic FZ80D for comparison. The Panasonic's zoom was 1200mm vs. 500mm for the Nikon.


Earlier in the day, high surf pounded the coast.


High tides created a temporary river on Ocean Beach.


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Thursday, November 14, 2024

Hooded Merganser

Hooded Merganser, Lloyd Lake
 

Because it's on a downhill stretch, I'm usually riding past Lloyd Lake at around 28 mph. Not a good way to see if any interesting waterfowl have shown up. This morning I happened to see Bob Gunderson's excellent photo of a hooded merganser with a crawdad in its beak, so on today's ride I decided to actually stop at the lake to have a proper look.

I saw the photographers before I saw the mergansers, so I knew I was in the right place. I saw two males (like the one above) and one female. One of the drakes occasionally swam along with the hen and would chase off the other drake when it got too close.

Supposedly there are more hooded mergansers at Blue Heron Lake, but I have yet to see them (or their photographers). They could well be on the southwest and western side of the lake, which I don't see when I ride through. I stopped for a look today and contented myself with ring-necked ducks, a ruddy duck, and a coot, since I saw no mergansers. 

A light rain began to fall shortly after I left home on the bike. I pulled over and changed into the rain gear I'd stowed in my bike bag. The rain soon stopped, so I was dry at Lloyd Lake and North Lake, but then it got quite wet as I made my way to the Cliff House, and it was still drizzling during my last stop at Blue Heron Lake, and all the way home from there. As I write this, my gear is hanging to dry in the basement while, outside, the sky is blue.


I liked how the drake's hood was in a different position in each of the three shots.


Racing Hood


This is one group of photographers that was set up on the hooded mergansers. A few other folks were set up outside the frame.


Hen of the Hoods


One of the photographers who'd been there all morning said she'd gotten a shot of the hen with a crayfish in her beak, and the saucy crayfish had managed to clamp its claws onto her forehead for a moment before being eaten.


This maple tree at North Lake was a good stopover for birds when it still had lots of leaves on it, but today its mostly bare branches were hosting a pair of squirrels who munched on its winged seeds.


I was just standing on the edge of Blue Heron Lake when this ring-necked drake swam by...


...followed by the hen.


The ruddy duck was doing a lot of diving, and I could almost follow its underwater progress by watching air bubbles rising to the surface.


Cool Coot in Hot Pursuit

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Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Red Shoulders & Yellow Bellies

 

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Elk Glen Lake

First thing this moring I encountered one of the red-shouldered hawks I recently saw perched on a nearby street lamp. It was impossible to miss after I crossed the street, and I couldn't resist photographing him again with nice morning light and a blue-sky background. 

Even more surprising (since I've never seen a hawk perched there before) was finding the hawk still there when I returned almost exactly two hours later (although the hawk must have made a few pounces during the interim). The street lamp is next to a formerly wooded lot whose trees were cut down, and is now an unkempt lot that probably harbors small birds and other prey. (I don't know if the property owner is still waiting for permits to redevelop the lot, but it's been two years since the trees were cut down.)

Anyway, I'd started my walk at a brisk pace because I was looking forward to visiting Elk Glen Lake to look for the yellow-bellied sapsucker that is way out of its usual range. The bird was reported a few days ago, so I was very pleasantly surprised to see that it was still there today. I've birded the oak it was in several times since Elk Glen became part of my walking route, but today was the first time I shared the tree with several other birders. Thankfully someone who knows birds first identified it, or I might have mistaken it for a Nuttall's woodpecker.


Red-shouldered Hawk in Golden Gate Heights (8:33 a.m.)


Nice to have some weather moving through. I watched that patch of light climbing Mt. Tamalpais in the background and snapped the photo when it was fully on the grassy, brown hilltops.


Lichen hanging from a street tree on Noriega Street.


I used to try to be the first to notice the plum blossoms each spring, but it's not even the middle of November and I've been seeing them for a couple of weeks already. I guess they're just keeping San Francisco weird.


I photographed one of the red-shouldered hawks of Elk Glen Lake on this same branch not too long ago.


The hawk called out quite often and its call was answered by another hawk in the distance.


While viewing the yellow-bellied sapsucker in its oak, at least two red-shouldered hawks (like the one above) were squawking their brains out behind us, but none of the other birders turned to look at them. Just as I looked, a red-tailed hawk glided out of the area of the fracas, cool as a cucumber.


A Long Way From Home


Welcome to San Francisco


Coming out of the park I walked up Lincoln to 16th Avenue, where I noticed this Waymo car waiting for the truck to move. The truck had its hazard lights on, but I guess Waymos can't "read" a signal like that. At one point, another Waymo turned left off Lincoln and drove by, and it would have been funny if it had somehow robot-signaled the waiting one that it should go around the truck. The Waymo did eventually go around, so maybe it goes by elapsed time. I couldn't tell if the car had a passenger, but it would be a kind of funny bummer to get stuck like that.


There was even more to this crazy contraption outside the borders of the photo.


The blue sky was gone by the time I got back, but the hawk was still there, its feathers being gently ruffled by the wind (10:32 a.m.).

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Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Sanderlings

 

Pooled Sanderlings, Ocean Beach


I was so looking forward to seeing Ocean Beach with a "high surf advisory" that I started my walk almost an hour earlier than usual. The surf was indeed huge, but too chaotic to entice any surfers. Instead I zeroed in on a flock of sanderlings working the beach right in front of me.

As I was walking home from the beach I noticed quite a few newly hatched, winged termites helicoptering in the sunshine. The birds hadn't been noticing them until about a block from home, where I encountered another hatch that was drawing in yellow-rumped and Townsend's warblers. 


When a Townsend's warbler lit on a bush before I'd walked a block from home, I couldn't resist trying to snap a shot of him. I'd get another chance in the same general area on the way home, too, thanks to the winged termites hatching.


Morning at the Beach


Foamy Feet


A herring gull stands nearly motionless in the midst of sanderlings busily going about their business.


Reflections #1


Reflections #2


Working the Riverbank


Milky Mahem


Peaceful Ripples


Charging Chaos


Sometimes a large group of sanderlings would work the same small pool left by a receding wave.


It was a beautiful November morning at Ocean Beach.


Clearing Fog


Yellow-rumped Warbler Eyeing Flying Termites


The birds would hawk after a flying termite (or two), then flit back into a street tree, like this Townsend's warbler perched in a cotoneaster.


The best hatching area I saw was on a bike path down by the beach. The birds hadn't discovered it yet.


Shasta View This Morning


High Sierra Web Cam This Morning


Snow even reach the valley floor (but had melted from this view by this afternoon).

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