 |
| Anna's Hummingbird at Elk Glen Lake |
Way back as a botany student in Santa Barbara I had a part-time job where I sat next to a fun and interesting young woman (younger than me) of Mexican descent whose brother was a botanist. One day Rosa excitedly told me that her brother had discovered and described a new desert plant that became named for him. The way she pronounced it went by me, so she wrote it down: s-a-l-v-i-l-l-a. I was still perplexed until I realized with joy that she was spelling it in phonetic Spanish (and putting the accent on the second syllable when she spoke it). It's funny, the things we remember forever, and I still smile at the memory.
As I wind down my San Francisco nature project this week I can't help looking forward to what will come next. One thing I was reminded of yesterday while shooting on Mt. Tam was how satisfying it is to shoot with a full-frame camera and a tripod (which takes nothing away from the satisfaction of shooting hand-held with a compact camera). The other thing on my mind lately is how my San Francisco forays have deepened my appreciation for the nature we have here, thanks to sizeable and well-kept parks, and both ocean and bay coastlines.
Because I photograph the same routes week after week -- my walking and biking routes, that is -- I like to think of those routes as transects. I encounter and photograph whatever shows itself to me, rather than hunting for anything specific. As gratifying as that has been, I can't help feeling a desire to go deeper on something, even though I don't know yet what that would be.
Enlarging my transects to the whole state of California seems appealing while I'm sitting at home, but less so when I'm driving in heavy traffic, looking for shaded refuge on a scorching day, or burning up a lot of miles with little to show for it. Hopefully the coming break will provide the time and space to let the next idea take form and seep into my spirit.
 |
| This was one of several mourning doves pecking in the dirt along the Sunset Parkway this morning. When I turned my back to slyly get my camera out of my knapsack, all the doves flew away except this brave soul. |
 |
| A raven drinks from the little creek above Mallard Lake. |
 |
| Handsome Fellow |
 |
| I was surprised to see a mallard hen sitting placidly on top of this tree stump. She raised her head a bit as I approached but that was it. She was comfy and wasn't going to let me spoil anything just by showing up. |
 |
| The Hen of Contentment |
 |
| The hummer shared this patch of Mexican bush sage (Salvia leucantha) with the bumblebees for quite some time without being chased off by a rival or being spooked by a nearby photographer. |
 |
| I've passed this patch many times, but today was the first time I've been able to photograph a hummer there. |
 |
| I was surprised to find this lone jimson weed growing above Elk Glen Lake. This is Datura stramonium, which used to grow in abundance in Mt. Tam's Potrero Meadow before it all faded away. |
 |
| There were patches of baby blue eyes around the jimson weed. |
 |
| With a few tidy tips sprinkled in as well. |
 |
| A couple of red-winged blackbirds foraged for grass seeds around the margins of Elk Glen Lake. |
 |
| I detoured to the big patch of red Salvia gesneriiflora flowers again this week and found the same Allen's hummingbird presiding over it. |
 |
| He briefly fed on some of the flowers, but too far back in the patch for me to get a clear view. While I was there, an older street guy approached as he was improbably pushing one of those very thin scooters weighted down with his backpack along the sandy trail. Hard work! He was talking to himself and smelled of unwashed clothes and alcohol, but he stopped to chat for a while and remarked on how much the big red Salvia has grown over the years. |
 |
| This noisy young fledgeling was begging for food, but I couldn't tell what kind of bird it was. |
 |
| At least, not until its song sparrow parent showed up. |
* * *
Posts
