After the River

 

Purple Finch Eating Berries, Golden Gate Park

When the latest storm was being forecast, it was being called an "atmospheric river," and I wondered why that term seems to be used almost every time it rains these days. I asked Google AI and got this response:

"The term 'atmospheric river' is being used more frequently for storms because it's a scientifically accurate and descriptive name for the long, narror bands of water vapor in the sky that carry significant moisture. While the phenomenon isn't new, the broader term was coined by researchers in the 1990s to describe these moisture-laden plumes, which often look like rivers from a satellite's perspective. Media and weather services are now using the more technical term to better communicte the storm's potential impact, especially when compared to older, more regional names like the 'Pineapple Express.'"

I kept digging a little more and found an excellent story posted two days ago on KQED's web site. One interesting takeaway is that atmospheric rivers aren't always a "big bad storm." They can also be "quite gentle, gradual, or beneficial," according to a climate scientist. 

The one we just had seemed to fit the "beneficial" bill, at least around here. 

These might be toyon berries, though they look a bit pale.

Whatever they were, the purple finch was into them. A nearby robin wanted to get some but was too fearful in my presence. The finch said, "Fine, more for me."

Golden-crowned Sparrow, Oak Woodlands

A small bee bumped into the snare and triggered the spider to swoop in from hiding. But the bee didn't get stuck, so (not to waste a trip) the spider added a little more webbing then scuttled back to her hidden lair.

There were three snares that had elongated tubes engulfed in webbing nearby. This one looked like a caterpillar. There were several very tiny spiders moving away from it, and I wondered if they had recently hatched from within.

First Flush of Honey Mushrooms, Fuchsia Dell

The Dell also had a few of these lattice stinkhorn mushrooms that had grown too tall to support their own weight (perhaps after becoming waterlogged in the storm).

The red-shouldered hawk was noisily sqawking for attention, but it flew away almost as soon as I looked up at it.

Calla Leaves

Calla Lily

Trumpet Flower Near Lily Lake

Soft-looking pillows of chicken-of-the-woods fungus were growing out of a eucalyptus that also sprouted them last year and the year before.

Termite Hatch, Golden Gate Heights

I encountered the first termite hatch a block from home, but the one in the video is from Golden Gate Park. A large dragonfly was snatching them out of the air, but I was unable to photograph it. Another hatch at North Lake was being picked off by yellow-rumped warblers.

I guess the Cliff House is going to keep its name when it's refurbished and reopened, possibly in late 2026. Assuming that happens, I hope visitors will still be able to freely walk out on the back deck to take in the view.

One of the red-tailed hawks that hangs around the northern end of the Great Highway had just pounced on something but didn't come up with a strike.

After perching on the sign, it made another strike attempt and again came up empty. I watched it make three unsuccessful strikes in maybe five minutes.

After giving the meadow at Balboa Natural Area one last look, the hawk soon took off across the highway (thankfully just high enough to avoid being hit by a car) to perch over a patch of ice plant in the hope of spotting a mouse.

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