Culture Clash

 

9/11 Feathers

I'd just learned feather-wrapping somewhere, maybe at Headwaters Outdoor School or out at Kule Loklo in Pt. Reyes, and in my shock after the 9/11 attack I found myself wrapping a trio of red-tailed hawk tail feathers in red, white, and blue. I wondered why anyone would attack us like that, seemingly right out of the blue, using the tools of our own culture against us, but my soul-searching mixed with a desire for revenge.

Twenty-five years later, it doesn't seem like we got our revenge despite decades of war. Back then we had a budget surplus; now we're $40 trillion in debt. Atmospheric carbon dioxide has increased 15% while we still hear "Drill, baby, drill." Religious fanaticism is up; humanism is down. On and on. Earthly civilization seems like one big culture clash. The wheels of history grind through their cycles and I hardly know whether to laugh or cry.

I recently finished reading The Nerd Reich by Gil Duran and have followed it up with his recommendation of The United States of Oligarchy by Casey Michel. "Garks, grifters, and goons, oh my!" Important stuff, for sure, but I'm also glad to be thumbing through The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Western North America and getting outdoors to put things in perspective. Nature's got her narratives, too.

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Tobacco Nectar

 

Anna's Hummingbird & Tobacco Flowers, Middle Lake

Apparently there's a trace amount of nicotine in the nectar of tobacco flowers. Thinking about animals that could benefit from a stimulant (I'm looking at you, koala bears), hummingbirds don't even make the list.

I didn't know the plant was tobacco (possibly Nicotiana tomentosa) as I watched several hummingbirds bickering over the flowers this morning. I'd have looked it up on the spot if I hadn't accidentally left my phone (plus money clip of cash and cards, and a pair of reading glasses) in a fanny pack at home. If I'd known, I'd have snagged a leaf or two to dry and burn, just to see what it smells like. (I quit smoking cigarettes thirty-eight years ago, which is probably why I'm cancer-free and can still go for walks and bike rides without an oxygen tank.)

Looking for somewhere new to go today, I rode out to Lake Merced to see if I could spot a rare bird recently reported in the area. Not only did I not find the rare bird, I wondered how anyone had spotted it in that location -- in a strip of plants and garbage along a canal next to the Olympic Club golf course.

A few Northern Yellow Warblers worked the tree line adjacent to the canal and golf course.

Northern Yellow Warbler, Top View

Over at Lake Merced's concrete bridge I was greeted by another bird I hadn't realized we hosted in San Francisco -- a grackle.

There are signs asking people not to feed the wildlife, but this guy was quite comfortable around people.

Great-tailed Grackle (Male)

Quiscalus mexicanus (Female)

I figured the Western grebe on the right was a youngster since it seemed to be begging from the other bird.

Biking back along the coast via the Great Highway Extension, I thought I saw whale spouts. Only when I pointed my lens out to sea did I see that the splashes were from diving pelicans.

Nicotine Patch

Despite the profusion of tobacco flowers, the hummers also took advantage of the adjacent eucalyptus.

It's nice to be able to get your nectar reward without needing to hover.

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Travelin' Nuthatch

 

Red-breasted Nuthatch, SF Botanical Garden

I've been hearing red-breasted nuthatches for a couple of weeks, but I finally got a chance to photograph one this morning. My plan for the day was to eighty-six (i.e., "throw out," not "kill") my usual walk and bike ride, and instead find whatever the heat might bring to birdland. 

In my eagerness to get outside, though, I entered the SFBG around 8 a.m., well before the day actually got hot. I'd planned to stake out the little creek area back by the Moon Viewing Garden where I recently photographed Robins and Western Tanagers, but not only was it not very hot out yet, the creek area was being soaked by garden sprinklers.

On top of all that, it didn't seem very birdy in general -- until I encountered the biggest poppy on Earth. This huge poppy doesn't look anything like a California poppy, or even an opium poppy. This behemoth actually has bark on it, and that's why it's called Tree Poppy (Bocconia arborea). It's sprawled out right next to the Monkey's Hand and the Succulent Garden. I never really paid attention to it until today, because today it was very popular with the Western Warbling Vireos.

Since no other birds were eating the tree poppy's seeds, I wondered if the vireos had some prior experience with it. Lo and behold, tree poppy turns out to be native to southern Mexico, a favorite hang-out for western warbling vireos.

Anyway, getting back to the red-breasted nuthatch, I heard one calling while I was back in the Children's Garden area (where several pine siskins were working the alder at the pond, beyond camera range). The one I finally saw wasn't making any sounds as it gleaned for insects, but finally, just as I was about to leave, it made its telltale call which always reminds me of being in the Sierra Nevada.

Western Warbling Vireo on Tree Poppy

They squeeze the little black seed out of those oval pods.

The squeeze doesn't work every time.

I squeeze a seed out myself and was surprised how gummy it got my fingers. The vireos must be getting the seeds without all the mess. I was afraid to touch my camera (or my eyes) with my sticky fingers, so I washed them off in the spray of a nearby garden sprinkler.

Northern House Wren

Umber Skipper

There were more western warbling vireos back in the Children's Garden, mostly working the alder and the willows at the pond.

Western Flycatcher

A few Northern Yellow Warblers were drinking nectar from the Monkey's Hand tree.

American Lady Butterfly

A Townsend's Warbler made several forays from nearby trees to hunt for insects on the ground.

Steller's Jay

While I was watching the jay at my feet, a Townie landed on a branch right next to me.

It was just after the Townie flew away that I noticed a nuthatch in the branches above me. I was stoked to realize it was a red-breasted rather than a much more locally common pygmy nuthatch.

It was hunting by itself.

Which is something their kin, the Pygmy Nuthatches, rarely do. Here they were visiting the Schotia brachypetala.

Just across the pedestrian path, several Anna's Hummingbirds were nectaring on different red flowers.

I shot this through the bedroom window yesterday, a panting crow that appeared to be in heat distress. It remained in this position for a good while before finally standing up and flying into the nearby oak tree.

Sunset from Grandview Park, 9/9/26

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Spotted Towhee

 

Spotted Towhee, El Polin Spring

I've been on the lookout for a spotted towhee in the city ever since I recently checked iNaturalist and learned they're here. I heard it chirring in the brush long before I was able to lay eyes on it, and my first glimpse was too fleeting to capture with the camera. I was glad to finally get a couple of chances before it disappeared into the brush once again.

A third Pipilo species found in California is the green-tailed towhee. There are four records of it in San Francisco on iNaturalist, two in 2018 (photographed in Golden Gate Park; heard in Golden Gate Heights) and two in 2020 around Lake Merced.

It was interesting to see what the construction crews have been working on over there at El Polin Spring. The path has been made wide and flat, and even though it's still dirt, it looks like paving might be in its future.

I'd started off my ride with a visit to the eastern end of the Panhandle, where a mountain lion had been seen climbing a tree the night before. Whatever happened to the lion remains a mystery. The authorities arrived on the scene and apparently kept an eye on it late into the night, when it finally came down and wandered away. 

I couldn't resist photographing the scrub jay with its fluffy breast feathers since it so obligingly landed right next to me.

It was very finchy around the spring, and I believe most of them were house finches.

But at least one was a more stout-looking purple finch.

The view of the spring has been cleaned up since the last time I visited. Now you can clearly see the birds going in for a drink.

I was waiting for the towhee to show itself when an Anna's hummingbird visited this pretty, pink-flowered weed nearby.

Pollen on the Beak

While I was out on the bike I stopped by Mallard Lake to see if the common yellowthroat would show up. It was around 1 p.m. by then, and nobody seemed interested in visiting the little creek. I was about to give up when I heard a group of pygmy nuthatches moving closer and closer, and finally zeroing in for a drink and a bath.

This is the one in the back of the previous photo. It was the only one really bathing.

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