Friday, December 9, 2022

Grandview Moonrise

 

Moonrise from Grandview Park

By the time I got back from my ride to Mt. Tam and had showered and downloaded pictures, it was about 3 o'clock, so I only had about an hour to relax before walking over to Grandview Park to catch the moonrise. I had an idea of where it would come up, but as the minutes passed beyond 4:28 p.m. I wondered if I would be able to see the moon through all the haze. Plus there was this one lone cloud over the distant horizon.

While I waited for the moon I snapped a couple of other shots, including the SkyStar Wheel in Golden Gate Park, and a panorama of Mt. Tam (click to view larger). People walked by and took phone snaps of the city skyline, but they were there for the sunset, which was happening on the other side of the hill. As it set, the sun reflected quite obnoxiously off the Salesforce Tower with a glare that would have dominated the scene, leaving the moon in second place. I was relieved when the reflection finally sank into the shadows.

The moon finally made its appearance--from behind the cloud, naturally--and I was excited by its beauty as the first contours of its shape became apparent. 

I had only brought a 300mm lens, so I made most of my shots by rotating the lens to vertical format and shooting a horizontal series to convert into a panorama. A single horizonal frame put the Transamerica Building and the Salesforce Tower very close to the left and right edges of the frame, leaving no room for the image to breathe. 

As I left the park I passed a small crowd of people on the other side of the hill who had been absorbed in watching the sunset. I don't think they even realized what was happening behind them.


SkyStar Wheel in Golden Gate Park


Panorama with Mount Tamalpais


Moon Above Salesforce Tower


Moon Rising Above Sutro Forest

* * *

Thursday, December 8, 2022

Racing the Tide

 

Resting Buck

A year ago this month I ran into a high tide that flooded the Mill Valley-Sausalito Pathway, cutting off my bike route to Mt. Tam. A large group of cyclists soon showed up and decided to take the freeway, so I joined them, figuring we had a reasonable amount of safety in numbers. It all worked out fine, and we had a nice little adventure.

Back then I had arrived at the flooded path about a half hour after a 6.74-foot high tide. I had planned to do the ride again yesterday and was concerned about the 6.3-foot high tide, but I had no idea if that would be high enough to close off the route. I decided it was worth a try, even if I ended up having to turn back. I'm glad to report that I did not have to turn back. I passed through before high tide, and the path was still dry when I returned afterward, so I know the flooding happens somewhere north of 6.3 feet. 

Later this month we'll have king tides (get your cameras), starting with a 6.4 high tide on the 20th, followed by 6.7, 7.0, and two 7.1 highs on subsequent days, dropping to a 6.9-footer on Christmas Day.

On the way up the mountain I saw that the crazy azaleas (crazaleas?) were still blooming along that little straightaway just before Bootjack. Right in among them were bundles of juicy red toyon berries which are more typical for this time of year. 

Up on the mountain I spotted a big buck deer relaxing in the warm sunshine well above the tule fog that rose almost all the way to the Mountain Home Inn. By and by he stood up and commenced to groom himself before ambling over to the edge of the woods where he began to thrash the tree branches with his antlers. It's long past velvet-shedding time, so I wondered if he was knocking acorns down. I didn't see him eat anything though, so maybe he was trying to shed his antlers or just make a game of sparring with branches.

Speaking of acorns, I'd been wondering why I hadn't seen or heard any wild turkeys in a long time since the ground is covered with ripe nuts, and I finally saw a gaggle of them on my ride down from Rock Spring to Pantoll. They were feeding together, but doing so very quietly, and with no tail-feather flourishing.


December crazaleas on Panoramic Highway


View of Mt. Diablo Over Tule Fog
(inland fog that doesn't come from the ocean)


The Buck Rises


Caught in the Act
(of sparring with branches)


Hiker on the Benstein Trail


Frost on Beetle-Grazed Bark


Shed Antler With A View


Wary Turkey

* * *

Tuesday, December 6, 2022

Neighborhood Nature

 

Beach Rainbow


It was a surprisingly beautiful day at the beach, with small, clean surf, a dramatic sky, plenty of solitude, and a gentle, short-lived rain shower that delivered a somewhat shy rainbow. 


Coyotes in Golden Gate Heights

When I saw the first coyote, I was pretty far away and only about fifty percent sure it was even an animal. It finally moved, so I walked closer to see what it was. When I saw that it was a coyote I regretted that I only had my smartphone camera. The coyote lay down to rest when a second coyote ambled into the scene from the left side of the frame and stopped to nuzzle greetings for a few seconds before moving along.


Sidewalk Surprise

Amanita muscaria in a sidewalk garden. Note additional button in the background.


Dragonfly Steps

My walk takes me up the nature-themed 16th Avenue steps, and today I finally decided to count how many there are. I got 150 on the nose, but the official web site claims there are 163. [I counted two more times, each time getting 148 steps, with a step only counting if it was a step up.]


View toward cloud-hidden Mt. Tamalpais from bottom of Grandview Park.



Cloud Train 2


* * *

Sunday, December 4, 2022

Cloud Train

 


I went to the bedroom to get my shoes so I could go for a walk around the neighborhood and noticed an interesting train of clouds chugging by out the back window, so I set a timelapse to run until I got back from my walk.


Cloud Train Timelapse

* * *

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Cold & Dry

 

A Bobcat emerges from the chain ferns surrounding a mostly dry creek bed.

My habit has been to ride up to Mt. Tam every other Thursday to check on my trail cameras, but with rain in the forecast I figured I'd go up earlier this week. Monday was still too windy, and Tuesday was almost too cold. I had to do a bit of self-cajoling to actually roll out the door, but as usual I was glad to be outdoors on such a beautiful day. 

The ride was fairly uneventful: uncrowded bridge crossing, greater yellowlegs and black-necked stilts probing the mud at low tide, light vehicle traffic, still-blooming weird azaleas, the squirrel carcass was gone, a couple of awesome road-bikers passed me on my e-bike while going uphill (a remarkable feat that has happened only twice before), still-blooming California fuchsia, and dry brown hillsides.

I moved the trail cameras back to the pool, which was covered with powder down left behind by bathing band-tailed pigeons. I'm hoping to capture something interesting before and after the coming rain. Hopefully we'll get enough rain to finally get the creeks going.


Second frame of bobcat capture (video below)



Crop of the previous frame.


Gray Fox


Buck with skinny antlers.


Dual-frame overlay of passing coyote.


The new GardePro camera has a "no glow" flash for night photography, and the animals (including this coyote) really don't react to it. The Foxelli "low glow" camera sometimes mesmerizes animals to the point where a 10-second video shows nothing but the animal staring at the lights. The downside to "no glow" is the flat light.


Tam Cam Video Clips

* * *

Saturday, November 26, 2022

Point Reyes in November Past

 

Sunrise at Point Reyes


I've been too lazy to go out and get any new shots, so this is Point Reyes in November of years past.


Bluffs at Chimney Rock


Pacific Edge at Dawn


Lagunitas Creek


Surf Fishing at North Beach


Marbled Godwit at Drake's Beach


Roadside Cleaning Crew


Dewy Morning in Bear Valley


Handsome Coyote #1


Handsome Coyote #2


Remembering Fallow Deer


Remembering the Wittenberg Trail


Galerina in the Moss


Pelicans in the Dunes


Mt. Vision View

* * *

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Moonrise

 

Waning Crescent Moon Above San Francisco

When I got into bed last night I figured if I happened to wake up in time, I'd go out onto the Golden Gate Bridge to photograph the crescent moon rising above the city. Then I thought better of that half-hearted plan and set my alarm for 4 a.m., only to wake up at about 3:30 anyway. Plenty of time to make some oatmeal and drink a cup of coffee before heading out for the 5:33 moonrise.

I'm so used to biking to the bridge, I almost forgot the most direct route to drive there. Other than a couple of cop cars, mine was the only car in the lot when I arrived, and even the cop cars had left by the time I got back. I walked out around 15 minutes after the gate opened at 5 a.m. to allow pedestrians and cyclists onto the bridge. There are crisis counseling signs everywhere, and I got checked out--by a guy on the bridge and from a boat on the water--to make sure I wasn't planning to jump. 

As soon as I set up my camera I realized I was going to be contending with wind-shake, bridge vibrations from passing traffic, and a bit of atmospheric disturbance, all of which would compromise the sharpness of any photos. The shot above was the best of the bunch, and a couple of them were downright blurry. As I was waiting for the moon to rise, I took in the Big Dipper and Orion, and when I turned my back to the wind I saw a cruise ship about to enter the bay, so I photographed it with a slightly long exposure since sharpness was not an option anyway.

A while ago I posted a shot of a nearby neighborhood intersection from 1928 to compare it with today. The owner of the house with the big pines in the "today" shot recently had all his trees removed. I documented the loss with my smartphone during the ten days or so it took to do the job.


Ship Passing In the Night


Neighborhood Tree Removal

* * *

Friday, November 18, 2022

Ladybugs

 

Acorn Woodpecker


As I biked across the Golden Gate Bridge there were very few tourists afoot, as I would expect for this time of year, but I was surprised to encounter so few cyclists riding the other way. It was a beautiful Thursday morning and not particularly cold, but I practically had the whole span to myself. On the north side I was pleasantly surprised to see unusually large flocks of pelicans and cormorants resting on the  calm water's surface in front of Fort Baker. They were  all gone by the time I rode back that way in the afternoon.

The ride up the mountain was uneventful until I noticed that those crazy western azaleas had a few blossoms on them again. Their leaves were all autumn shades of red and yellow, yet a couple of them had fresh white flowers at the tips of their highest branches.

Farther up the road, between Bootjack and Pantoll, I passed a squirrel that had recently been hit by a car in the downhill lane. Since I had a safe place to pull over and there was very little traffic, I went to move it off the road so scavengers could feed on the carcass without themselves being endangered. When I reached the squirrel I was struck by the bright red stream of fresh blood that had flowed from its wound. Even more poignant were the broken pieces of a peppernut on either side of its head. 

The sun angle was noticeably lower when I reached the Pantoll Road vista point I often stop at, and the first blades of green grass were infiltrating the brown hillsides of Bolinas Ridge. I locked my bike at Rock Spring and hiked out to my trail cams, and was disappointed to find the creekbeds still quiet. There were more or less continuous pools of water in some stretches, but the water wasn't flowing. 

Near the Rock Spring tank, the dead Douglas firs that had been marked with yellow ribbons (see photo near the bottom of this post) had recently been cut down. The sound of chainsaws buzzed in the distance. I heard water running in the little well-like spring next to the trail and went to investigate. Sure enough, water was pouring gently from a pipe onto a bed of watercress. Suddenly I felt something like a tick crawling on my leg, and when I looked down to flick it off I saw what I thought was a ladybug. I had to put on my reading glasses to be sure, and when I did I saw that the ground was crawling with many other ladybugs. Had they been nestled in holes or beneath the bark of one of the felled trees? Some of them congregated on nearby plants and fallen branches, but for the most part they seemed to be milling about very loosely. I wish I could have been there early this morning to see if they had formed a larger aggregation like this in order to stay warm.


An acorn woodpecker takes stock of its pantry.


Cut trees near Rock Spring.


A quick count of the rings showed this section to be about my age -- over 60 anyway.


A small aggregation of ladybugs.


Buck deer at stream crossing.


Two of three raccoons that foraged along the creek after some rain put more water in it.


A gray fox stops to smell something of interest.


This is a combination of two frames from the GardePro cam, showing how fast the coyote moved through the frame. The cam is set to snap two stills and a video, but the coyote was well out of the frame by the time the video started.

* * *