I don't know how I never really noticed the two blue stripes on the head, just above the beak, on a Steller's Jay. I suppose the jays are so easy to identify that I've tended only to glance at them. The two that I encountered at the pond in Strybing Arboretum's Children's Garden on Sunday were content to go about their business without sounding their usual raucous alarm as I observed them from the little boardwalk. Occasionally one of them would find a little seed or nut, then fly deeper into the bramble to hold it down and peck into it.
A Wilson's Warbler flew into view on the other side of the pond, and I thought I'd missed the shot as it darted from branch to branch in search of insects before quickly flying away. This was after a Townsend's Warbler had eluded my lens earlier, and before I thought an Orange-crowned Warbler had done so as well.
The Flower Piano event was in full swing while I was there. I'd forgotten all about it and wondered if I'd find any birds at all with so much human activity going on. But I took advantage of the free valet bike parking and gave it a look. And a listen. There was a lot of good music going on.
Blue-Striper
This tree sported more vines than leaves of its own.
I always hear Tom Hanks in Cast Away, calling out "Wilson!" when I see these guys.
This was the best shot I could get of an orange-crowned warbler as it darted from branch to branch. A couple of times it landed completely in the open, but I wasn't fast enough to catch it...
...but at least it worked out better than it did with this Townsend's warbler. Even without the intervening leaf, it's a bit shaky in that dim light.
A trio of black oystercatchers bathes in a tidepool below the Cliff House.
I was glad I brought the FZ80 along on my Friday morning walk. My hopes of finding interesting migrating birds along the way didn't materialize, but because I'd left the house earlier than usual, I was treated to a blazing light show in the fog, a show I doubt my phone camera would have done justice to (although, come to think of it, I wish I'd checked).
Down at the beach later on I spotted a pair of wandering tattlers in the same place I recently thought I saw one, but which I later decided must have been a willet. From that same vantage point it was easy to see that the actual tattlers were significantly smaller than the willet. The tattlers were busily feeding despite repeatedly having to fly out of the way of crashing surf.
As the sun rose behind Mt. Sutro its rays were separated out by the eucalyptus trees into a scene reminiscent of eyelashes in the fog. Occasionally bright spots would also flare through the woods below the treetops. You can just make out part of Sutro Tower on the right.
I didn't find any migrants as I walked through the Oak Woodland, but this good-looking red-shouldered hawk swooped in and instantly set off a squirrel alarm.
A wandering tattler runs from the surf with a mole crab it had just excavated from the sand.
A tattler on a barnacle-crusted boulder returns to the hunt after fleeing from a crashing wave.
Splash Necklace
The bathing tidepool is on top of a boulder where waves occasionally splash high enough to refill it (and send bathers toward higher ground).
I was surprised recently as I was putting away a sock that had been through the washer and dryer, and found that it still had a grass seed stuck in its threads. Even more surprising was how big the seed was, and that I'd somehow never felt it while wearing the sock. Also, it was an interesting-looking seed, a crescent-shaped, spiky thing that looked like an alien from some strange planet.
I have no interest in some hermetically sealed, Muksian bubble in a sterile Martian colony surrounded by lifeless red dust. I'll take my chances on Earth any day. The fact that influential people have already given up hope for human life on this beautiful planet and imagine that, having failed to take care of such a fecund beauty as we have here, they will somehow be able to sustain their lives on an inhospitable, life-denying planet like Mars, is terribly sad.
Joy is in seeds. Tough and resourceful as life itself.
I gathered a few specimens of seed-bearing fruits on Thursday's trip to Mt. Tam so I could photograph them at home. Click any image to view it larger.
This cute little gray fox showed up more than any other critter on the cams. Most of the time it showed up at night, but it also made an appearance or two during the day. A bobcat passed through once, and stopped another time to drink. In fact, it drank from the tiny pool for the whole 15 seconds of the video clip. I wish there was a setting that would keep the video rolling as long as the critter was in the frame. I'd love to have seen what it did next after quenching its thirst.
Bobcat
Drinking Bobcat
It's so rare to catch a speedy little chipmunk on the cams that I had to include this shot. The cam is set to fire two still frames before starting a 15-second video. The chipmunk was already gone before the second still frame fired (followed by an empty 15-second video).
As I was pedaling out the Mill Valley-Sausalito Pathway this morning I saw a beautiful V-shaped flock of geese flying in front of Mt. Tam's east peak. Unfortunately, there was no way to stop and get my camera out in time to capture the scene. I almost passed up this snowy egret soon after that, but thought what the heck. I was in no rush.
I was glad to see that the black-necked stilts had returned to their favorite feeding area along Coyote Creek, where I also stopped to photograph a great blue heron working the creek's edge, with a kind of urban-apocalyptic junkyard scene in the background.
It was a beautiful September day up around Rock Spring, sunny but nicely cooled by a mild sea breeze. I hiked out to my trail cams to swap out the cards and batteries, and I'm looking forward to downloading that stuff soon.
There was just a little bit of morning fog at the Golden Gate Bridge. The fog was actually quite beautiful in the forested area near Andy Goldsworthy's "Spire" sculpture and also farther on through the Presdio.
Long Reflections
Urban-Wildland Interface
Reflections with Black-necked Stilt and Turning Tree Leaves
Looks like he got something here, but I can't make out what it is.
For a while there -- years, that is -- it seemed like I wasn't seeing any turkey vultures above Mt. Tam, and I wondered what happened to them all. I never found out, or heard of anyone else even wondering about it, but it's good to be seeing them again.
Much of the rosinweed has seeded out, but there are still quite a few plants that are flowering like crazy.
I was just standing on the trail, taking in the beautiful day, when I heard rustling in the nearby grass.... I like this shot because it shows the gopher's top and bottom teeth.
At first I thought the gopher was sealing up his hole after he spotted me. He'd pushed up a big plug of dirt that completely covered the entrance, but then he gave another push and shoved all that dirt farther away from the hole. He was still excavating.
There were lots of baby fence lizards skittering around, some even quite a bit smaller than this guy.
But the big guys were out as well, sunning on lichen-crusted rocks.
You can just make out some faint blue in the scales on his back.
Going out the door this morning I figured I'd roll past 14,000 miles on the odometer today. I hit 13,999 near the top of Arguello on the way home.
I thought about photographing this tree when I saw it in bloom last week, but dense fog subdued the scene. I hoped for a better chance, and this morning I found it while the sun was poking through the fog and lighting up the bright red flowers. The matching car was a nice bonus.
Later on my walk through West Portal I saw other red-flowered eucalyptus trees in bloom, but the flowers were quite different. Those were crimson bottlebrush (Malaleuca citrina).
Things were very different at the beach today, with a strong wind charging out of the northwest. I boosted the power on my e-bike as I rode into it, then switched off the battery on the return trip, propelled by tail winds.
Sutro Rock gets pummeled by wind-driven swells, with Mt. Tamalpais in the distance and the Liberian-flagged crude oil tanker Aqualeader heading out from Benicia toward its next stop in Panama.
Willet Gets A Sunbeam (I'd assumed this was another wandering tattler, but now I'm going with willet.)
Pelicans Flying With The Wind
Pelicans Flying Against The Wind
This kiteboarder had the whole surf zone off Ocean Beach to himself.
My morning walk yielded zero photo opportunities, and it looked like the bike ride was going to follow suit. All seemed quiet, and even a little bereft, as I looked out over the ocean from the back deck of the Cliff House. Seal Rocks had few resting birds and no sea lions in view. A lone fisherman was casting his line into a calm and quiet sea from the big rock in front of Sutro Baths. It appeared that the tattlers had wandered, and even the pelicans were lounging elsewhere. I got on my bike to head home, taking one last look toward the bird bath just for the heck of it.
I was happy to see that there was, in fact, a wandering tattler probing into the beach sand at the bottom of the cliffs. Then two more joined in, racing out from behind the boulders. A fourth was off by itself, pecking at rock barnacles instead of the sand. I wasn't particularly hungry for lunch, so I got my camera out, thinking I would just have a closer look through the zoomed lens.
Through the lens it was clear that the fourth tattler was actually a surfbird. And while I was watching the tattlers and surfbird, a black oystercatcher showed up at the bird bath.
When I finally did head home I spotted the unusual sight of numerous birds trying to take advantage of a very small puddle of water in the middle of the road near the confluence of MLK and JFK drives. When I looked through the camera's zoomed lens I could see that all the birds were robins, many of whom were youngsters.
Farther along, I saw that Kingsley was in his usual hunting spot. I heard a pair of common yellowthroats (one of my favorite birds) companion-calling on the other side of the lake, but they clammed up when I went over there to investigate. Since I was already over there, I snapped a shot of Kingsley just for the heck of it.
On my way home for what I figured was the last time, I cruised above Hellman Hollow and, sure enough, the coyote was down there again. Just resting this time, with no howling. I backtracked to the Polo Fields, then rode back up along the hollow to pay my respects.
Having recently mistaken the wandering tattlers for surfbirds, it was good to finally see an actual surfbird today.
The wandering tattlers gave up their pursuit of mole crabs as the tide rose a little too high for comfort.
After a nice bath and dry-off, the black oystercatcher took wing back to Seal Rocks.
Robins Hogging A Puddle
In the video below, you'll see a junco scuttling across the background. It had been chased out of the puddle just a moment before.
Kingsley on the Lookout
Hank, the Happy Hound of Hellman Hollow
Nice Doggie
Hank didn't even get up as this runner went by, followed closely by a guy pacing him on a bicycle (although the fast-moving runner seemed to be pacing the cyclist).
