Snoozer

 

Snoozing Barn Owl, Golden Gate Park

Thanks to a friendly park horticulturist this morning I was finally able to see the barn owl I recently heard about. I'd walked past the right tree a few times, looking into it both today and Friday, without seeing the owl. To my mind, the tree had been one of the least likely to host an owl. Now I need to go back there sometime when it's awake, hoping it doesn't immediately fly away upon awakening.

Beach Stone & Iridescent Sea Foam

Beach Multiverse

Short-billed Gull, Ocean Beach

Small Mussel Shell

Mole Crab Skeleton

This immature Western gull had a mole crab, but I didn't see whether it swallowed the crab or dropped and lost it. Whatever became of the crab occurred during the brief viewfinder blackout in my camera.

Second-winter Western Gull

This morning at Ocean Beach off Noriega Street.

He's going for it.

My camera's "burst mode" ran out of gas, but the surfer got completely tubed and even managed to emerge unscathed.

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Mr. Scruffles

 

Mr. Scruffles, North Lake

As soon as I saw this young mangy coyote I knew it was the same one I saw scampering down a trail on January 19th at Middle Lake. It seemed to be enjoying the sun's warmth, and maybe even the scent of wafting molecules of mite-killing eucalyptus oil. A park ranger on the scene had called animal control, but the coyote left the area before anyone came. Probably just as well since Animal Control wouldn't treat the coyote's mange anyway, and the animal wasn't being a nuisance.

One bright spot is that if Mr. Scruffles can beat the mange on his own, he'll have gained some immunity to better fight off any future mite-infestation.

As the coyote left the area heading south around the lake, I got to talking with a guy who had just photographed a barn owl in a nearby tree. Unfortunately it wasn't so nearby that he could point to it, and I was unable to find the owl based on what I could recall from his directions. The sight of a barn owl rising from my neighbor's oak tree like a ghost in the night, then circling a couple of times before flying out of sight, is one of the coolest things I've ever seen out our back window. I'd love to see one of these owls again, even sleeping in a tree.

The sun backlit the huge leaves of this unknown plant in the Fuchsia Dell and created an irresistible glow.

A different frame on the same leaf.

Backlight on the bison was a little tougher to handle. If I exposed for the shadows of the bison, the mustard flowers blew out. Lightroom allowed me to pull more shadow detail from the file than I thought I'd get.

I had stopped by the Bison Paddock fence to check on one of the nest boxes that had three Western bluebirds standing on it. I didn't even notice the bison for a minute. This one was very close -- just behind the twiggy pokeberry bush.

Mr. Scruffles at Rest

While I was looking for the owl I got sidetracked by my first brown creeper sighting of 2026, and a downy woodpecker that flew away before I could photograph it.

The creeper was moving so fast I'm not sure if its beak is open because it just snagged an insect from that crack in the stump, or what.

Ruddy Duck Hen, Blue Heron Lake

Ruddy Duck Drake, Blue Heron Lake

Bufflehead Drake, Blue Heron Lake

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Hit or Miss

 

Bobcat with Captured Gopher, Tennessee Valley

Although I snapped the photo above in the month of February, it was many years ago, when Tennessee Valley was home to three charismatic bobcats (and who knows how many more secretive ones). 

I'd planned to bike out there this morning but almost stayed home when I saw how bad the air pollution was. I did end up going (Sausalito finally repaved its rotten main street!), and the valley was beautiful despite the haze, but I didn't encounter any wildlife to speak of. It's always hit-or-miss out there, but today's lack of liveliness seemed unusual.

The Valley This Morning

The only time I took my compact camera out of its bag (the field-and-mountain shot above was a phone snap) was to confirm that this distant bird was a northern flicker. I was pretty sure just based on its white rump, but then it spread its wing to preen and left no doubt.

This is a biodiversity poster I made of Tennessee Valley back in the day.

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Old Fella?

 

Anna's Hummingbird, Middle Lake

This guy's beak was never really closed during the time I spent watching him. Something about that open beak, the tiny bird's relatively large size, its nonchalance at my close proximity, and its overall gestalt, led me to wonder whether this is what an elderly hummer looks like. 

I was alerted to its presence by an Allen's hummingbird that rocked back and forth above it a few times, clearly wanting it to exit the area. After its failed attempt, the Allen's zoomed high into a nearby eucalyptus rather than perching anywhere near the larger Anna's hummer.

Eventually the big guy finished preening on its little perch and took off toward the lake, closely followed by another hummer. They sped out of sight too quickly for me to tell if the Allen's had been its escort, or another Anna's (of which there had been at least one more close by).

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Zen Fountain

 

Allen's Hummingbird in Waterfall at Mallard Lake

I brought along my new camera microphone on this morning's walk and decided to put it to use at a little waterfall that empties into Mallard Lake. The sound of trickling water was conducive to meditation and reminded me of those little Zen water fountains you can buy.

Hummingbirds in the Waterfall

I've been watching these flowers come into bloom over the last few weeks near Elk Glen Lake, but today was the first time I saw a hummingbird come to feed on them.

Red-tailed hawks were screeching, turning in the wind, and dive-bombing each other while also being dive-bombed by ravens, above Grandview Park.

A female Western bluebird was hanging out at one of the nesting boxes at the Bison Paddock.

A male was nearby as well. I thought I saw one of the first tree swallows of the season soaring high above the paddock, but none came down to check out the nest boxes.

There were many finches twittering in the trees and flying down to feed in the paddock.

Around my feet, honeybees were visiting the mustard blossoms.

They appeared to be gathering pretty good hauls of pollen.

The bluebird is perched on a pokeberry bush that was popular last spring, but so far there's no sign that the plant is still alive and ready to make a comeback this season.

The Great Highway's red-shouldered hawk was on its light post again today. . .

. . . but had a hard time keeping its balance in the strong winds.

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Beach Hazard

 

Sanderlings on the Run, Ocean Beach

I figured it would be pretty close to high tide when I reached the beach this morning, but I was surprised by the huge surf. If I'd remembered to check the weather forecast before leaving home I'd have known that waves were expected to be 14-19 feet, with the occasional "sneaker" wave topping even that.

A group of sanderlings was gathered in a somewhat protected area bounded on all sides by water that was just deep enough to keep people and leashed dogs from intruding into their space. The only thing they had to worry about was the occasional sneaker wave that pushed up the beach far enough to temporarily shrink their dry refuge.

No sign of any western snowy plovers where they formerly gathered between Noriega and Pacheco. 

Looking Down Ortega Street

I know, it's hard to tell how massive these waves are without a sacrificial surfer in there.

There were zero surfers, of course, and even the pelicans, which often make elegant use of the updrafts on wave faces, kept their distance from the thundering breakers.

Toil & Trouble

Serene Sanderlings

Even with its eyes closed and its beak tucked under a wing, a sanderling is always ready to run for higher ground.

Safe Within the Moat

A Beautiful February Morning at Ocean Beach
(The white square in the distance is the Cliff House.)

Note the sanderling on the left that appears to be screaming.

Beach Buddies

The red-breasted sapsucker continues to work the Mediterranean buckthorn at South Lake. I'd often figured all the holes in a given tree were made by several sapsuckers over many seasons, but this single bird is creating quite a tapestry.

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