Down the Creek

 

Drifting Past the Huckleberries

I figured if I'm going to walk in the rain I'd rather be in the woods than in the city. 

I also wanted to collect some hazel pollen and knew where a couple of hazels were located not too far down Cataract Creek. On my way down to find them I suddenly recalled where I could find a bunch of hazel, only to remember soon afterward that it was a bunch of huckleberry. I had gone to the huckleberry patch before to gather a handful of soil in the hope of transferring some beneficial microbes into the soil around our huckleberry at home. It might have worked too well, come to think of it. Several branches broke under the strain of all the berries we had last year.

When I reached the huckleberries I realized I'd somehow missed the two hazels I had in mind. It wasn't really raining at the time, so I decided to make a few compositions of little scenes in the immediate area. On my way back to the car I found both hazels and collected a little pollen to dust on the flowers of my backyard hazel.

Creekbed Edged with Chain Fern and Hucklberry

Mosses Loving the Rain

Corkscrew Tree

Polypody Ferns

Gentle Cascade with Mossy Rocks

Newt on the Scoot

Fox on the Cam

Recent Tam Cam Clips

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Grab Bag

 

A Gathering of Clouds

Rainy days have thrown me off my usual schedule of urban hikes, but I finally caught up with two neglected routes yesterday and today. 

The bad news yesterday was finding a familiar yucca plant near Hawk Hill that appeared to have been killed by the recent strong winds. (A large pot of oaks in my own yard also got knocked over, but the oaks survived.) I've been gathering a few of the yucca's fallen fruits each time I've hiked past it, then tossing the fruits into a south-facing patch of weeds farther along my route. 

The good news today was finding San Francisco wallflower (Erysimum franciscanum) blooming on the edge of the Oak Woodland in Golden Gate Park.

Tomorrow or the next day I'm planning to drive up to Mt. Tam (doesn't look like very good cycling weather) to hopefully collect some pollen from a hazel or two. I just noticed the female flowers on my backyard hazel are open and ready for business.

Coco the cat has been doing well. We never had to take her to the vet for the first seven years she started hanging around our place, but we've run up more than $12,000 in vet bills in just the last year, mostly on a recent emergency care visit where they kept her for two nights. (When you walk in the door, you hear the chime of a cash register going "ka-ching!") We've been giving Coco subcutaneous fluids every other night at home (and will soon switch to once a week), and we also bought her some prescription cat food which she refuses to eat. I figure with whatever time she has left, she ought to be able to eat her favorite foods, and I'm always relieved when she doesn't flinch as I jab her with the needle for the fluids.

Unrelated to Coco's appearance in our lives I also went "flexitarian" around the same time, so it's been about seven years since I switched to a plant-based diet (partly after learning that my favorite cold-cuts were likely carcinogenic). They say more than half the people my age are taking four or more prescription drugs, but so far I'm not taking any, and I plans to eats me spinach and keep it that way.

Head in the Clouds

The yucca that toppled in the recent strong winds.

The yucca fruits.

One of Today's Roadside Attractions

San Francisco Wallflower in Golden Gate Park

Coco McFuzzy

Salad of spinach, butter lettuce, sliced apple, cherry tomato, corn, green and kalamata olives, and Violife feta.

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Friday Hike

 

Accommodating Bluebird

My wife had the day off so we headed out for a hike on Mt. Tam, leaving the city around 8 a.m. in surprisingly "Friday light" traffic. Yay. 

Since I was there just yesterday I didn't really expect to see anything new, but as soon as we pulled into the Rock Spring parking lot we noticed that a huge branch had broken off one of the great old oaks near the picnic tables. Around the base of the tree we found numerous yellow-staining agarics, which seemed more than a little incriminating. Did these fungi have anything to do with the rotten limb? Are they guilty rotters, or just cute bystanders?

By the way, I got a good look from the Matt Davis Trail at the battered remains of the old iconic Douglas fir, which now appears to be completely dead.

One of the highlights of the hike was spotting a western bluebird that was very accommodating to a couple of shutterbugs. At first we stopped and just looked at him, figuring he'd fly away. He was right next to the trail. Then I finally said, "I know how to make him fly away. I'll get my camera out." But even that didn't work, and I snapped a photo. We took a few steps closer and snapped another photo. Then we took yet another few steps and took yet another photo. Amazing. Thanks, bluebird!

Panoramic Highway was still closed at Pantoll, even to bicyclists.

The fallen limb at Rock Spring.

Another view of the oak that lost a limb.

Some of the many yellow-staining agarics (probably Agaricus xanthodermus) found suspciously near the base of the oak.

Here's a quick comparison between the small waterfall we saw on the Matt Davis Trail on our hike in the rain on Feb. 1, and today.

They say a "bluebird day" is a sky with no clouds, but I usually like a few clouds on my bluebird days (hence the nephophile moniker from a few days ago). We took in this view at right about high tide, which was supposed to be 6.9 feet, which is why Bolinas Lagoon looks like a bay with no mud flats.

Heading north along the Coast Trail.

A tiny bit of yellow slime mold along the Cataract Trail.

This lichen was sporting a bunch of pale beige fruiting bodies. It's growing on the bark of a large Douglas fir.

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Fading Shrooms

 

White Coral Fungus

With the exception of this white coral fungus that's still going strong practically everywhere I look, I didn't see much else fruiting today. The most interesting thing I saw was an area in the woods on the way to the trail cams that looked like some kind of scuffle had taken place. There were flattened patches about the size of a small deer lay, crushed hound's tongue and other plants, and lots of dug-up earth. There were some mossy rocks above it all, and I imagined a bobcat pouncing on something that put up a fight.

After my short hike I thought about heading down to Duxbury Reef for low tide, but my heart wasn't in it. I remembered that the tidepools right after a storm can be quite silty, and I didn't want to drive all the way down there for silty pools, then have to drive back to the city around rush hour. Also, Panoramic Highway from Pantoll to Stinson Beach was closed. According to the state park's web site: "Panoramic Highway is CLOSED between Pantoll Campground and Stinson Beach due to storm damage. It may reopen on Saturday 2/10/24. Access to the park from the Mill Valley side is clear and open."

These little mycena mushrooms looked much redder in the direct sunlight, but it was too harsh for a photo (so I used a diffuser).

Down-and-dirty, as always: a couple of waterlogged chanterelles cozy up beneath a giant, mossy oak tree.

These stout oak branches all rise from a single trunk. 

This bobcat made some interesting scent marks (see video).

Tam Cam 2/8/24

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Nephophile?

 

This morning I rolled out of bed and opened the drapes to a pre-dawn sky nearly free of clouds. A waning crescent moon shone like a golden sculpture, rising much farther to the south than the last time I recall seeing it. 

There was only a 20 percent chance of rain today, and by the time I'd finished my hike-n-bike, some interesting clouds had blown in that looked capable of delivering a little something. Dark as they were, they merely moiled and toiled in a weird, rainless circulation I'd never have noticed if I hadn't run a timelapse. 

As for all these timelapse shots, call me a nephophile -- a lover of clouds.

The chance of rain was a little higher yesterday, but I still made it to the beach before the clouds let loose. I was able to wait it out from a tiny dry area on the beach beneath the sea wall that runs south from Noriega Street. I was pinned down for quite a while, but what the heck, I didn't have to be anywhere. 

A couple of gulls flew over me and gave me the eye. The next time I saw them they'd landed nearby on the sandy berm that blocked my view of the ocean. It was slightly weird. Did they expect me to feed them? I turned away and when I looked again, the two gulls had been joined by several more, as if I had been feeding them. Again, I turned away, scouting the sky to the south, and the next time I looked, the cogs fell into place. They were drinking the fresh rainwater that had drained from the pedestrian-friendly top of the seawall.

Rear Window Timelapse (2/5 & 2/6/24)

Taking Cover

Rain at the Noriega-to-Santiago seawall, with Coast Guard helicopter heading north.

* * *

Gleanings in the Wind

Waterfront Rain

 

Heading north on 25th Avenue.

Marin Headlands

The Golden Gate

Mile Rock

Sleeping Maiden With Her Head In The Clouds

Backwash at Seal Rocks

Enjoying a Rainy View Near the Cliff House

Snow in Lee Vining this morning.

The UC Berkeley Campanile's peregrine falcon cam was zoomed in on this fellow this morning. A gust of wind actually blew him backwards about an inch, and he flew away just a moment later. 

Windy.com image at about 3:30 p.m.

The clouds were moving so fast, I didn't actually need timelapse to show their movement. But it's more fun that way. The only downside is that the rainbow blinked in and out so quickly. This is a screenshot from the clip.

Rear Window 30-minute Timelapse with 3-second Interval

(2/4/24)

The rainbow takes one last bow before the whole sky goes dark with storm clouds.

* * *

Whether Weather

 

Weather Window

Even if we're just walking out the door, simply looking out the window to check the weather doesn't give us the bigger picture. Living in the present is a wonderful thing, but so is preparing for the future. 

I recently came very close to reserving a hotel and bus pass based on a forecast for snow in Yosemite Valley, only to learn that the forecast was actually for the high country. Both forecasts look at first glance to be for the same location, but only by looking at the map coordinates can you tell where they actually are. I've been waiting since fall for a cold storm to bring snow to Yosemite Valley, and I'm starting to wonder whether the weather's going to happen this year.

Coincidentally, I just finished reading a book called The Last Winter, by Porter Fox. As you can imagine by the title, it's not a book to raise hopes for a good outcome to our changing climate. I was especially interested in the fact that permafrost isn't just something found on the North American tundra. In Europe, whole ski resorts are dependent on it.

"Glaciers insulate permafrost," writes Fox, "essentially keeping the top of a ski resort and all the lift stations, restaurants, glass-sided hotels, and panoramic viewing stations in place. When the permafrost thaws everything could come tumbling down."

Web cam screenshot of the Yosemite High Country this morning. This is the kind of snow I was hoping to experience in the Valley.

This was the Valley this morning. It looks nice and cold, but it's not cold enough for snow to accumulate and stick.

Rear Window Timelapse (2/2/24)

When we got back from Mendocino, we found that the neighborhood cat that adopted us was in such obvious misery that we took her to the vet. Turns out she has stage three kidney disease, but we have nursed her back to a semblance of good health. Always an outdoor cat, she has been staying indoors almost exclusively, although she recently went out to bask in the sun's warmth while lying in a bed of a neighbor's Oxalis. She came back inside almost as soon as her spot fell back into shade.

* * *

Hike in the Rain

 

Falls Along Matt Davis Trail

My wife had the day off, and since it seemed like the heaviest rain had passed during the night, we drove up to Mt. Tam expecting to hike from Rock Spring to Cataract Falls. The gate was closed to the upper mountain, though, and we didn't have $8 in cash to park at the Pantoll lot, so we drove back toward Bootjack to park along the side of the road for free, and from there we hiked out along the Matt Davis Trail.

In the woods it was hard to tell whether it was raining or just dripping a lot from the trees -- until a couple of real squalls let loose and left no room for doubt. We wore rain jackets but not rain pants, and neither of us brought an umbrella, so there was some question as to whether we'd even make it to our turnaround point, out where the forest opens up onto the rolling grassland, before we got too wet and cold. 

We were so close by the time the second squall started, though, that we kept going, and as soon as we got out to a very foggy, cloudy "vista" point we were greeted by an excellent rumbling peel of thunder. But as the sky darkened again and let loose another boom, we felt like it was time to get back in the woods and return to the car.

This fresh bear's head fruiting was a nice surprise. We didn't expect to see much fungi because of the recent heavy rain, but this stuff was sheltered from the pounding deluge by the log that's supporting it.

This was the moody and serene view about where the Matt Davis Trail crosses the gated road to the upper mountain. 

A little slo-mo footage of the falls.

Talkin' Turkey

The view had cleared up nicely by the time we got back to the trail junction with Pantoll Road. This is my kind of stormy weather -- big squalls, preferably producing thunder and lightning, moving through an otherwise clear sky.

Yesterday I walked over to Grandview Park to take in the storm, but it never got very wild, with wind gusts topping out at a mere 22 mph, and a consistent but light rain.

Pastels in the Sunset

Rear Window Timelapse (2/1/24)

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