Sick Coyote

 

Mallard Lake, Golden Gate Park

Weird morning. It started out cold and sunny, but a wind came out of the east and pushed a mass of fog out my way. Suddenly it was cold and foggy, and I could better appreciate the dire straits of the sick coyote I'd run into near home. All the rough weather -- the cold, the wind, the rain -- that we've been enduring seemed sadly evident in that one pitiable animal -- which I can only hope wasn't G-dog. [UPDATE: I saw the coyote in the neighborhood again on Jan. 16, and it was still mangy. I was amazed to see it's still alive. Apparently they can recover on their own, but I decided to report it to Animal Care & Control in case they can help.]

Later in my walk I stopped to check out the decaying carcass of a raccoon I've been keeping an eye on for a few weeks, but a mower had gone over it. Any thoughts of eventually collecting the skull had been zapped into oblivion. 

A little farther along I encountered a senate gallery of pigeons looking down upon a lone member of their tribe standing in the road below. The lone pigeon was either sick or wounded, and the gallery was there to bear witness. It was only a matter of time before a car would come along and put an end to its suffering.

Next up was a great blue heron that swooped in to hunt gophers. It eventually caught one, and the poor creature struggled in the heron's beak until the heron was able to stab it for the kill.

There was so much of Nature in her brutal aspect today. But then the fog finally blew out and the sun shone warm and bright. Pied billed grebes floated lazily on pretty Mallard Lake. Robins snapped up red cotoneaster berries. A hairy woodpecker worked its way up a tall pine, occasionally whistling while it worked. Near the beach, the Say's phoebe was still in her place, as was the yellow-rumped warbler. Surf scoters dove beneath the surf. Gulls rested on sun-warmed sand.

Looking east at sunset last night.

The waning moon heading for the western horizon this morning.

Coyote in Need of a New Coat

As the coyote shivered from its cold and windswept perch on the Rocky Outcrop, I wished I could help in some way. I wasn't prepared to call Animal Control, or whatever we have here in San Francisco. I didn't think I could keep track of it until they would arrive, and I was also worried that my presence was keeping it from moving on to a warmer spot somewhere else.

This short clip of the sick coyote shows it was basically staying put, perhaps waiting for me to leave.

The last time I photographed pigeons arrayed like this, other groups of pigeons were doing the same thing in several of the other arches beneath the bridge. This time, only this group was staring down, with a lone pigeon, either sick or injured, waiting for death on the road below.

I'd never seen a pigeon suffer in this way. When it tried to walk, its gait was very wobbly, and then it tipped forward onto its heavy, muscular breast and couldn't recover. As the next pulse of vehicle traffic approached, I turned and slowly continued my walk, listening for the inevitable, which was provided by the very last car in the line.

More Honey Mushrooms!

The heron first landed on the south side of MLK Drive, then strode into the deeper grass toward a sound it might have heard. Nothing panned out, though, so it lifted off and flapped over to the other side of the road.

It very quickly appeared to be zeroing in on a likely suspect.

The heron got a mouthful of dried grass stalks along with its prey.

Since it caught the gopher by clamping down on it, the gopher was not immediately killed and struggled to free itself. The heron set the gopher back down a couple of times to spear it...

...and finally succeeded.

Only when the gopher was dead did it go down the hatch.

A pied billed grebe floats in the reflections at Mallard Lake.

Underwater Foliage

Robin Gets A Berry

The Singapore-flagged Ever Mega (left, heading to Oakland) meets the Liberian-flagged Ever Fast (heading to Busan, Korea) off Ocean Beach. Interesting that ships owned by the same company (Evergreen Marine Corporation with 200+ vessels) fly their "flags of convenience" in a variety of countries.

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Amanita muscaria

 

A nicely shaped fly agaric in an urban garden.

I was behind the Cliff House with my bike, standing in the cold wind and admiring the large waves, the daring surf scoters swimming in the churning ocean, the chattering black oystercatchers flying around Seal Rocks, and the hawking Cliff Warbler (still here!), when a ray of sunshine broke through the fog and brushed me with its warmth. Wow, did that feel good -- all the more so because it almost instantly disappeared. 

There hadn't been a bit of sunshine on my earlier walk to the beach, but there was a nice compensation in a flush of Amanita muscaria in the same garden I've found it in before. I anticipated finding the bright red mushrooms with the white spots as I approached the known spot in someone's narrow garden strip. I wonder how they happened to get their soil inoculated with the spores. Did they get a lucky batch of this "winter wildflower" from a garden supply store? Or did they come in by some more natural means? Next time I pass by, I'll collect a specimen to try to inoculate my own garden soil....

The Star of December's Garden

House Pet

I saw a couple of Townsend's warblers on my walk but didn't have my camera ready to take any pictures. Instead I just enjoyed watching them for as long as I could, appreciating their beauty and their ability to survive the storms. Nearing home, I decided to pull out my camera when I saw the guy above near the Rocky Outcrop on 14th Avenue. Unfortunately I got only one (not very sharp) frame off before it flew away.

Rocky Outcrop

Even closer to home I watched this ruby-crowned kinglet stalking its prey in an ice-plant-jungle median strip.

You can just make out its ruby crown feathers....

Numerous trees lay on their sides in Golden Gate Park after the recent windy storm (which knocked our power out for 12 hours), especially around the Bison Paddock. The small woodland between the paddock and Spreckels Lake had a whole wave of trees knocked down. This large eucalyptus was down near the intersection of JFK and Chain of Lakes drives.

I heard Cliff Warbler's sharp cheep several times before I actually saw him.

Yellow-rumped warbler hiding its yellow rump.

You can't see any surf scoters in this picture of Sutro Rock getting whacked by waves, but those amazing little sea-ducks were right at home in that turbulent water.

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Northern Shoveler

 

Northern Shoveler, Blue Heron Lake

I took the bike out for a quick spin around Golden Gate Park to see what the storm might have done. I expected the downed trees (the worst of which appeared to be at South Lake, where a big conifer had fallen in the lake, and two huge eucalyptus trees lay across the parking lot), but I was surprised to see a new duck at Blue Heron Lake.

Just as I pulled over to check out the new ducks, a birder happened by, and he told me they were shovelers. Seeing my camera he said it's hard to photograph them with their beaks out of the water because they spend most of their time "shoveling" for food beneath the lake's surface. He also told me that a male and female will often swim in circles to create a little whirlpool that helps suck food up from the bottom. All of that was good to know as I watched them feed, preen, and even squabble a little bit.

I'd seen the bufflehead recently, but only today did I get a chance to photograph it at fairly close range.

Shoveler Coming Up for Air

Preening its Feathers

Fluffing its Feathers

The shoveler in front seemed to have a beef with one of the others and chased him off.

This was a lucky grab-shot, and I don't even remember if this was the chaser or the chasee.

Shoveler Showing Off Its Feathers

Northern Shoveler (Spatula clypeata)

I take it this is a young male whose feathers still retain a bit more camouflage than the full-grown adults.

Short clip of a male and female feeding (viewing might induce dizziness!).

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Strawberry Hill

 

Photo-bombing Mallards at Blue Heron Lake

The past couple of times I took my camera down to the San Francisco Botanical Garden, the plan was to go in the southeast entrance and work my way around to exit at the northwest entrance, then cross the street to walk around Blue Heron Lake and Strawberry Hill. I never made it. By the time I was ready to leave SFBG, I was ready to head home for lunch. So today I skipped the garden and went straight to the lake, which was quite a hive of activity -- probably more so than any other lake in the park.

Unfortunately, most of the activity was from humans, dogs, and gulls. Sometimes my feathered quarry would flee at the approach of people (with or without dogs), but people actually worked in my favor once. As I turned to head in the opposite direction of a chatty group of walkers, I spotted a coyote that I'd otherwise have missed. The coyote ducked down a small hill to avoid a jogger, then came back up after the jogger passed. 

But then the jogger, apparently absorbed in changing the musical selection on his phone, turned around and spooked the coyote again -- but this time it crossed to my side of the Camelot Bridge. Then the jogger also crossed the bridge, still absorbed in his phone. At first I thought he was pursuing the coyote, but in fact he never noticed it. I managed to fire off a couple of frames before someone coming the other way spooked the coyote up Strawberry Hill, never to be seen again.

When a guy got out of his car to feed the ducks, which attracted not just the mallards, the coots, the ruddies, and the ring-necks, but also the geese, the gulls, and even several ravens, the great blue heron flew off to find a quieter hunting ground.

One of several ravens trying to cash in on the bounty of bread.

It's not often I get to photograph a California towhee perched in some tree branches instead of foraging on the ground.

Lots of honey mushrooms all over.

Great egret nabs a fish.

I finally found where the hooded mergansers like to hang out at Blue Heron Lake.

The coyote was adept at moving around the landscape without attracting much attention, then instantly disappearing into cover to avoid an encounter on the trail.

What's up with all these ruby-crowned kinglets without ruby crowns?

Female Hairy Woodpecker

Until today, I hadn't seen a Townsend's warbler in days, if not weeks, and wondered if they'd left the area.

This one nabbed a caterpillar and appeared to use its tongue to scoop it into its mouth.

Male Hairy Woodpecker

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Flicker

 

Northern Flicker, Oak Woodland in Golden Gate Park

I was just on the edge of the Oak Woodland and about to cross over to the Fuchsia Dell when a large bird flew up from the ground beneath some oaks into a nearby pine tree. Then I heard the sharp call of a flicker from over in the Dell and got my camera ready, thinking the bird in the nearby tree was probably a flicker as well. But then I saw the one above, the brave one who kept digging despite my presence.

Although it was great to hear the rain falling last night, I was glad to have a fairly sunny morning to do my walk and bike ride. Encountering the flicker was a special gift, but really every day is like Christmas. I know there are lots of people in the city who never go anywhere that doesn't involve getting into a car, who have never even walked around the block they live on, much less explored their own and adjacent neighborhoods. Maybe each of their days is like Christmas in some other way, but I find presents every day on my walks and rides. Then again, I'm pretty easy to please.

A neighbor told me just today that he encountered four coyotes hanging out together -- one of them just lying down in the street -- when he walked home from the Forest Hill Muni station the other night. I envied his encounter and couldn't help thinking I might need to go out in the evenings too, not just the mornings....

A nearby squirrel started chirping an alarm call, which got the flicker's attention, but only briefly.

The flicker was digging for something but would often interrupt its pecking to quickly raise its head to steal a glance at its surroundings, giving me a chance to quickly fire off a shot that would show its cheek colors and get a catchlight in its eye.

After the flicker flew away I noticed this pot of golden honey mushrooms nearby...

...and this smaller, more youthful, clump down by my feet...

...along the stone steps of the Oak Woodland.

Lots of golden ginkgo around the city these days.

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