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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No on Comet, Yes on Coyote

 

Evening Coyote, Grandview Park

On my way over to Grandview Park to check out the sunset and hopefully see comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS (aka "comet A3") on Thursday evening, a guy resting near the bottom of the hill warned me to watch out for a coyote someone sighted up there. It always kind of amazes me when people seem afraid of coyotes when I'm always grateful to encounter them. The sunset didn't look like anything special, so I enjoyed watching the coyote prowl around the brushy hillside, well below all the folks waiting for the sunset, the rising full moon, and/or the comet.

I left the coyote as she was digging half-heartedly for a mouse or gopher near the bottom of the hill, then figured I'd found a good spot to wait for the comet when I came to a guy with his young son and a small telescope. We chatted a bit as we waited, and pretty soon my wife climbed the stairs to join us, and the young son lit up in surprise. Turns out he's a first-grader at my wife's K-8 school! 

Although the sky was very clear up high (Venus was clearly visible), it was quite hazy at the horizon. If the comet was there at all, it must have been obscured by the haze.

The coyote appeared to be about to exit the hillside when a pedestrian sent her back into cover.

I think she was on her way to exit the hill at the other side when she heard a rustling in the weeds.

She pounced, then dug in the sand a little, but didn't score an immediate strike. I could only wonder where she was heading next as night began to fall.

There was a little sundog kind of thing out there, but no comet.

On Friday morning's walk I saw one hermit thrush chasing another one, apparently trying to stake out its own territory. I haven't seen our local hermit since I photographed it in our little bird-bath bowl, but we usually get a hermit who sticks around for the winter, thanks to the semi-wild nature of my neighbor's yard.

Golden Gate Park's Fuchsia Dell was very birdy Friday morning. It was mostly robins going for a variety of berries, but Steller's jays, song sparrows, hummingbirds, and even a brown creeper were also busy.

Robin and Fuchsia Flowers

Robin Eating Fuchsia Berry

Birds weren't the only ones in the Dell. This squirrel (holding on with just its hind legs) is eating one of the fruits from that green bunch above its head.

This little song sparrow was going strong, unconcerned with my nearby presence. A hummingbird that swooped by to take its perch was similarly ignored.

Another flush of chicken-of-the-woods is sprouting from the same giant eucalyptus on Whiskey Hill that I saw last year.

[UPDATE: Same chicken on 10/24/2024.)

Keer! A pair of red-shouldered hawks swooped into view while I was still on Whiskey Hill, making me wonder if they were actually hunting together -- one flushing the quarry while the other swooped in for the kill. The local birds were onto them, though, and they soon flew away to hunt elsewhere.

Red-shouldered Hawk

While this young was lady poised on the knife edge of the rocks, her friend remained safely on the trail above, looking apprehensive. Meanwhile, as a group of tourists walked past me while I was taking in the sea view from the deck of the Cliff House, I overheard one ask another, "What is this place anyway?" To which the answer was, "I don't know." They meant the Cliff House, which goes to show how long it's been since it went belly-up.

The bulk carrier CSL Koasek (flagged in the Bahamas), up from Long Beach and heading to the Port of Richmond...

...and soon followed by the UK-flagged container ship Ever Liberal on its way to the Port of Oakland, then to Busan New Port in South Korea.

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High Water

 

Black-necked Stilts, Coyote Creek

The tide had covered up the mud flats along Richardson Bay north of Sausalito, which I guess explains why just about every great and snowy egret in the area was congregating on the edge of the same patch of marsh along the Mill Valley Sausalito Pathway. The egrets, and later the black-necked stilts, were a welcome find compared to just last week, when I saw so little bird life in that area.

I hadn't planned to go up to Mt. Tam again so soon, but I realized when I looked at my trail cam photos at home that the "log cam" wasn't producing much of anything, so I decided to move it. I ended up moving the other cam a little bit as well. Now they point up and down the little dry creekbed, and my hope is that I'll catch some good critter action before it begins to rain enough to get the creek flowing (hopefully soon).

Despite knowing we had a full moon last night, I didn't think to check the tide tables before my ride. The high tide I'd encountered on the way up was even higher on the way back. Parts of the bike path were submerged, but the flooded sections were small enough to ride through. I was there right about the time the tide peaked at 6.5 feet.

Snowy Rock

I spooked up a willet when I pulled over, but it didn't fly very far. Sadly, at least one of its legs appeared to be injured.

A great egret took possession of the roosting branch.

The great and snowy egrets were arrayed around the edge of this little half-moon of marshland, almost all of which was submerged on my return trip.

Stilt in the Salt Grass and Pickleweed

Foraging in the Flood

The stilt in the back appears to have nabbed something in its beak, but the resolution isn't powerful enough for me to tell what it is.

Mt. Diablo View From Mt. Tamalpais

The Log Cam

Coyote Creek Boardwalk at High Tide

This is Coyote Creek behind the Holiday Inn Express. There was no way around, so the lady pushing the stroller had to walk through. Luckily it was no more than two inches deep. 

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Salt Air

Why They Call It The Cliff House

As I was taking in the salt air down by the Cliff House yesterday I wondered if there was another term, like shinrin-yoku for "forest bathing," but for "sea air bathing." Apparently shinrin-yoku is a broad enough term to take in both, and more.

There was a good-sized swell rolling in, but the only surfers were pelicans riding the updrafts along the face of the swells. I watched one large group surf a beautiful wave with perfect grace. I've tried to get still shots of them doing that, but it really needs to be video, and probably shot in slow-motion to better savor the ride.

Pelican Squadron

Rock Thunder

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