Urban Wildlife

 

Black-necked Stilt, High Tide at Heron's Head Park
(The PG&E substation in the background sits in place of the decommissioned Hunter's Point Power Plant.)

I arrived at Heron's Head Park at about 12:30 p.m., still an hour shy of the 6.8-foot peak of high tide. Back home, my wife was hosting a women's group, so I was kicked out of the clubhouse for a few hours. I'd originally planned to drive up to Taylor Creek for the kokanee salmon run, but the last word up there (the park visitor center is closing for the season) was that very few fish were in the creek. Given all the troubles in the natural world these days, I didn't want to experience a salmon decline at Lake Tahoe (even if the decline is part of a natural cycle that could rebound next year).

Turns out, the solace of urban wildlife viewing is a real thing. At least, here in San Francisco with all our shoreline and parks. I've kind of given myself over to it the last few months, but I do occasionally wonder how long urban wildlife will hold my photographic interest. 

After briefly checking out the new India Basin Park (very crowded with opening day ceremonies), I biked along the Bay Trail to Heron's Head which is right next door. From there I rode along the waterfront (the Bayfront Park next to Chase Center was still not open) to the Battery at Fort Mason (where I was serenaded by human- as well as bird-song), then to Crissy Lagoon, which had flooded over the little island sandbar, then up to El Polin Spring, and then to the SF Botanical Garden, which until recently I'd always referred to as Strybing Arboretum (until the recent Hurricane Helene, I'd never heard that name, but it was a bequest from Helene Strybing that helped get John McLaren's park plan rolling). 

I was a little surprised when I got home and viewed my photos of the day to see that I only took pictures at Heron's Head and SFBG, and nothing in between. The beauty of being on a bike is that the ride itself is always a big part of the fun.

A willet does the fluff-and-shake dance before taking wing.

There were numerous ships anchored in the bay off Heron's Head, but this one stood out for its large size and colorful paint. The name of this U.K.-flagged chemical and oil products tanker is the Stena Imperator.

Stilt Takes A Bow

Wading on Stilts

I wasn't going to photograph another one of these large orb-weavers at SFBG, but then I saw that this one had caught a small bee.

It's not just the birds who like to eat berries.

California Garden Hermit Thrush

California Garden Gopher
(That bit of yarrow would soon be dragged into the hole.)

I heard three our four squirrels sounding the alarm from a large oak tree, but when I went to investigate I couldn't spot a single one of them, including one that sounded like it was practically within arm's reach. I took a step closer to that sound, and this guy darted away from cover, only to stop here on this branch to resume the alarm call. I never saw what was causing the alarm. The ground below the oak was littered with acorns and bits of acorn shells.

As I approached the Schotia tree I could see movement, so I closed in carefully to catch whatever bird might be in there....

The hermit thrush is a very shy bird that usually senses when I'm about to snap the shutter...

...leaving me with shots like this.

I usually see them on the ground, but this one was trying to feed on little berry-like fruit on the far end of branches too thin to support its weight. It would dart out and try to snag a piece while fluttering in place, then return to a larger branch to recover. I love how pointy and precise its beak looks from this angle.

I often hear these very small Nuttalls's woodpeckers but rarely see them, and even if I do see them, they are usually too high in a tree to photograph.

It's red-capped male partner was sounding off nearby, and soon flew in to probe for insects in the same tree.

I always check the milkweed plants for monarch caterpillars when I'm in the California Garden but have never found one. I rarely even see an adult monarch, so I felt it was worth capturing this one as it rested to soak up the sun.

An idyllic moment in the meadow (as long as you can make peace with all the goose poop).

I'd been resting on a park bench and just enjoying the last of the day before heading home when one of my favorite birds swooped in for a landing on a nearby tree.

In very brown-creeper-like fashion, it quickly darted from crevice to crevice as it ascended the tree. I had already dialed up the ISO to 3200 (giving me a 1/500th sec. exposure) as I moved into position, but even so, I was grateful when it stopped moving to rest or preen. After rising to a certain height, the creeper would often fly back down near the base of the tree to resume its climb.

I love the intricacy of its well-camouflaged feathers. I had to wonder why it always kept to the shady side of the tree when it flew down to resume its climb. It would have been much easier to photograph on the sunny side. In the shade, the autofocus was a bit tricky with so little contrast between the bark and the bird.

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