Curiosity

 

Red-tail vs. Raven Above Blue Heron Lake

I think of curiosity in one of two ways, either as a feeling that drives me to explore, or as a kind of conundrum that I might enjoy but have little interest in exploring. Usually, though, a curiosity will drive my curiosity.

According to a Google AI overview, "Curiosity is a strong desire to learn, explore, or understand something. It drives inquisitiveness, investigation, and learning. As a fundamental human trait, it fuels discovery and personal growth."

Of course, the AI is being anthropomorphic. Animals can be curious too. And even if we've never seen a cat that was killed by curiosity, we understand the meaning of the proverb. Explore sagaciously. 

A play on the saying goes, "Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back." Which either means zombie cats are running around, or it can be satisfying to follow our curiosity. Me, I've always been one to wonder what's around the next bend, and I love that every day presents a new one.

Curiosity can lead us into rabbit holes of perhaps unknowable depth as answers beget more questions, or answers arrive that are heavier than we could have imagined. How deep we go depends on when the fuel of our curiosity runs out. Sometimes we need to inquire all the way to satisfaction, but we can also give up on a line of inquiry with little loss. Out in nature I'm often satisfied to let a mystery be.

Pair of Red-tails Above Bison Paddock

This morning's curiosity involved a trio of squirrels on a telephone pole. One sat at the very top. A second one seemed to be trying to reach the one at the top, while the thid one was preventing that from happening.

It was a squirrel stand-off, and I didn't stick around to see how it might end.

A curious scrub jay landed nearby, perhaps more interested in whether the human had peanuts than whatever the squirrels were up to.

The red-shouldered hawk was screeching as I passed beneath it on my bike, its calls seemingly setting off a cacophony of cawing by a group of crows. I stopped to investigate, but the crows went mute and merely hopped around among various tree branches while only the wind ruffled the hawk's feathers.

The fledglings are so well-camouflaged in their nest that I haven't seen them the last few days as I slowly rode around Blue Heron Lake. Wondering if they'd really flown away, I finally stopped today to take a closer look.

A red-tailed hawk soared into view above the nest island and was soon joined by a raucous raven. A second red-tail then swooped down from Strawberry Hill to come to the first hawk's aid. The raven broke off its harassment.

Meanwhile, one of the two fledgling herons had flown down from its nest to a conifer just south of the Chinese Pavilion. In the picture, its attention had been drawn to the screeching hawks and scolding raven. Eventually the heron settled down to rest on a thick branch. I supposed it would have to fly back to the nest when one of the parents returned with food, but I didn't stick around to find out.

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Park Grass

 

Pink Peony

I collected some grass from Golden Gate Park and brought it home to photograph it under more controlled conditions than I can get in the field. While I was at it, I shot a close-up of the colorful reproductive parts of the peonies my wife bought recently. The peonies were just tight little balls of pink petals until they opened up after a few days and revealed their inner selves.

As for the grass, I didn't try to collect everything, but I did want to represent the more common ones I see (except for Ehrharta erecta, a prolific invasive species that I quickly eradicate when it shows up in our garden). I got the same identification for each of these grasses from both PlanetNet and iNaturalist, so the names should be about right.

Slender Wild Oat (Avena barbata)

Foxtail Barley (Hordeum murinum)

Greater Quaking Grass (Briza maxima)

Rescue Brome (Bromus catharticus)

Italian Ryegrass (Lolium multiflorum)

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Hummer Heights

 

Resting Hummingbird, Golden Gate Heights

Walking up the steep streets (and steeper stairways) of Forest Hill this morning I noticed cedar waxwings apparently feasting in a Cotoneaster franchetti bush (a different species than I photographed yesterday) despite its lack of berries. Interesting that even the flowers of this genus evidently provide food for the waxies.

I reached the highest point of my walk just as a red-tailed hawk swooped in and landed at the top of a cypress tree at Golden Gate Heights Park. On the other end of the size scale, several hummingbirds -- Anna's and Allen's -- were vying for supremacy over a large blackberry patch below the red-tail. 

I hadn't seen an Allen's hummingbird up there before, so I became a little engrossed in trying to photograph it. The tiny guy kept landing on branches with leaves blocking my view, then flying away just before I could finally find him through the telephoto lens and lock focus.

So we've had a hot Monday, a cold Tuesday, and a very windy Wednesday so far this week. The way the wind blows through the city, you can face headwinds while walking in just about any direction. At one point I even faced headwinds for half the block and tailwinds for the other half.

The cedar waxwings all flew away when I tried to get closer. The white-crowned sparrow immediately leaped up to claim the bush for himself.

Cotoneaster franchetti

Hairy Woodpecker at Golden Gate Heights Park

Red-tailed Hawk in Cypress Tree

This little hummer wasn't watching the hawk, but another hummer that was zipping around with territorial indignation.

Keeping track of it sometimes required a little contortion.

The Allen's hummingbird was being very shy, especially compared with the blasé Anna's hummers.

I thought he'd gotten used to me when he suddenly dove toward the ground and began making alarm calls. I looked around but didn't notice anything.

And then this guy flew right over our heads and landed in a nearby tree where he defecated before continuing on his way.

I hit the brakes when I passed this screeching hummingbird on the Bison Paddock fence. The backlight made him look so dark I thought it might be an unusual species.

Nope, I guess not. Just another colorful male Anna's hummer.

 A couple of Wilson's warblers were calling back-and-forth at North Lake. They are tiny birds and surprisingly hard to locate despite their bright color, and even when they seem to be calling from very nearby.

Hummers

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Hot & Cold

 

Lanky Coyote, Golden Gate Park

Two days in, the week is running hot and cold. Sunny and warm yesterday, foggy and wintry today. Walking into the wind toward the beach this morning was about as cold as it gets all year. Encounters with nature (not all of which I photographed) kept my mind off the cold, as did my change of direction when I took the Sunset Parkway into Golden Gate Park.

Neverthless, after about three hours I was borderline cold and hungry, and I almost skipped the bike ride afterward. I "almost" skip the bike ride from time to time, but I never actually do it. My stupid conscience always guilt-trips me into going, and I'm actually glad it does since the bike ride is always enjoyable once I get rolling. 

Although I told myself I would just do the ride and make no stops to check out photo opportunities, I immediately hit the brakes for the coyote. She was so busy scratching and gnawing on fleas or whatever that she didn't immediately leave. I tried to intercept her trail when she did lope away through the tall grass but had no luck. She wasn't even drawing the attention of scolding birds. Coyotes are so good at hiding (as are so many animals) that I always savor even a brief encounter in the open.

It took me a second to realize this was Cotoneaster coriaceus (red cluster berry) without its striking clusters of red berries. It's interesting that some of the plants are full of berries right now while others are just flowering. Having berries at different times is probably a good thing for cedar waxwings and other berry-eating birds.

This is probably my favorite grass that I see around the city. The anthers are a nice reminder that grass is a flowering plant (and among the most successful and recently evolved of them all).

It's called Italian Ryegrass (Lolium multiflorum).

Although it wasn't really what I'd call "drizzling," some of the fog was condensing into tiny droplets that you could feel on your skin (and capture in pictures).

A fledgling Song Sparrow came out of hiding to noisily beg food from its parent, but soon clammed up and dove back into cover after spotting me on the nearby trail.

Black-crowned Night Heron at Mallard Lake

It was definitely hunting, but I didn't notice it actually catch anything in the short time I observed it.

A little farther up the trail I was surprised to see a duck lying down on a fallen log. 

This guy was very nearby. Neither one moved as I stopped to check them out.

Here are both ducks in the same shot.

I'd seen the great blue heron from my night-heron observation point.

It was evidently a little tricky to get turned around to face me.

Red-shouldered Hawk Feather on Chilean Rhubarb Leaf

Some birds were making a fuss on the edge of Elk Glen Lake, making a sound I might not even have associated with a bird had it not been up in a tree. As I was looking for the source of the sound, two robins came flying out of the brush and landed nearby. The sound stopped. Maybe it had been coming from a fledgling robin (that I never saw).

Anna's Hummingbird Hitting a Fumitory Patch

This Anna's hummingbird was chill despite how close I was. That patch of white feathers, as well as her fearless demeanor, led me to wonder if she was an older adult, a senior among hummers who'd seen it all and didn't waste energy needlessly.

I'd wondered if the Allen's hummingbirds had departed the area until I finally saw one in the Salvia patch near Elk Glen Lake. Earlier, near Mallard Lake, I'd pulled out my Merlin app to identify a birdsong (which turned out to be a house wren, probably the same one I heard in the same area last week), and the app also "heard" a nearby Allen's hummingbird that I never saw.

I noticed several nervous robins and a Steller's jay making alarm calls, and soon spotted a red-tailed hawk. I didn't want to just photograph it sitting on the branch, but I almost didn't get a shot at all when it took off.

Coyote keeping her sniffer at optimal efficiency.

She liked using that little bare spot to do her grooming on.

She got up and began to walk away, but realized she wasn't quite done.

And then she was done.

And outta there (through lots of Italian ryegrass).

Clips of the coyote, the night heron, and the senior hummer.

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