Bound to Wander in Wonder

 

Anna's Hummingbird, Elk Glen Lake

A hummingbird rests on the tip of a lichen-crusted twig, thanks to the binding energy of the gluons that hold quarks together. In a world of objects that possess a quality we call "mass," it's interesting to note how difficult it is to conceptualize why anything has mass, and what mass actually is. And yet, anything that has mass is what we call "matter," a substance that accounts for a mere five percent of the universe, and which, despite its mysterious qualities, is perhaps nowhere near as mysterious as the other ninety-five percent.

Despite the lowly status of ordinary matter in our universe, one of its key properties is that it can turn into hummingbirds.  

While I was wandering down online rabbit holes related to quantum vacuum fluctuations (one of which might have jump-started our universe) I came across a 2008 article in New Scientist that stated, "...[M]ost of our mass comes from virtual quarks and gluons fizzing away in the quantum vacuum.... The Higgs field creates mass out of the quantum vacuum too, in the form of virtual Higgs bosons. So if the [Large Hadron Collider] confirms that the Higgs exists, it will mean all reality is virtual."

Five years later, Higgs' existence was confirmed.

Saw my first Northern shovelers of the season today at Mallard Lake.

They both spent most of their time with their heads underwater, but the female was especially voracious and I wasn't sure I'd ever get a photo of her pretty face.

This little orange-crowned warbler (also my first of the season) scampered down through blackberry vines, ivy, and other plant cover to reach a popular roadside bathing pool created by a garden sprinkler at Blue Heron Lake.

A Townsend's warbler was surprisingly tentative about bathing in my presence, even though I was sitting on the curb on the other side of the road.

Unfortunately, the diffuse light of a hazy morning meant slow shutter speeds and lots of focus-hunting, so this was my best shot of a bathing ruby-crowned kinglet whose crown actually showed.

A demure yellow-rumped warbler was even more tentative than the Townie and refused to come down to bathe at all.

It was the numerous pygmy nuthatches at the bathing hole that first caught my attention.

Cars, bicyclists, and joggers often passed by and temporarily caused the birds to flee. I cringed as I watched one of the nuthatches try to race across the path of a passing car. I hoped to see it emerge on the other side, but unfortunately it didn't make it. I was relieved to see that it was at least killed outright instead of just being injured, and I moved its body off the road (next picture).

Another ruby-crowned kinglet caught bathing.

A nasturtium leaf provides bathing decor.

Elsewhere on the lake, a couple of old coots were hanging out like bumps on a log.

A few ring-necked ducks paddled around with the coots and more numerous mallards, all of whom appeared to expect treats to be tossed by any dawdling humans.

* * *

Black Friday Birds

 

Hooded Mergansers, Golden Gate Park

As tempting as it often feels to insert my opinions about the state of our country under an administration with almost comically despotic tendencies, I prefer to just stick to the nature stuff. It does feel a little off to be single-minded in the face of so much else going on in the world of human beings. But without the daily walks and bike rides that keep me in touch with the natural world, I'd be missing out on a lot of joy in life. And who doesn't need joy? So that joy is basically what I hope I'm able to pass along on this blog. We can get our daily firehose of news and opinions in so many places. Here on the blog, there's no firehose of angst, no scams or fakery. Just real life in the real, everyday world that's tucked in all around us whether we notice it or not.

Halfway into the Oak Woodlands I stopped in a birdy location, although nearly all the chirping and flittering was taking place out of range, or by dark-eyed juncos pecking for seeds on the ground. I was just about to give up and move on when I heard the tap-tap-tap of this downy woodpecker working on a stump full of turkey tails that I photographed in this post back in February.

The woodpecker soon flew to a new spot, and this red-shouldered hawk swooped onto the scene a moment later, perhaps drawn, as I had been, by all the birdy movements and chirping.

Surprisingly, the birds didn't call out any alarms at the hawk's entrance, although this chestnut-backed chickadee didn't linger in the open for long.

After the chickadee flew out of range I spotted another downy woodpecker very close by. I watched it hunt for insects for a while before a scrub jay pounced onto the scene. It hopped around through low branches and along the ground, probably looking for a place to hide the peanut in its beak, but its abrupt antics seemed to scare off all the smaller birds, so I continued on my way.

In some oaks near the Horseshoe Courts I stopped briefly to observe a flock of golden-crowned sparrows foraging through the trees' dense branches. 

My wife was ready to get back on her bike today after a long absence, and I looked forward to showing her the giant sea serpent in person. I was surprised to find three hooded mergansers (two males and one female) paddling around in the little pond with the big sculpture.

* * *

Gratitude

 

Falls Colors at Mallard Lake

As someone who cultivates a sense of gratitude every day, giving thanks for being alive and healthy and able to enjoy the simple things on my outdoor forays, I still appreciate a day devoted to Thanksgiving -- especially the part where I get to stuff my face with my wife's excellent cooking.

I had a little bit of a laugh this morning when I saw a story in Science News about how giving thanks "feels a little cringe," but is actually good for you. And why shouldn't it be good for you? You can't do gratitude without opening up and making a connection with something beyond yourself. 

Windfall on the Lake

I watched this great blue heron for a while on the east end of Mallard Lake. It strolled around and cocked its head a few times, but never made a strike, finally opting to fly across the road in the hope of better hunting.

Looks like the hooded mergansers are back in town. These two were at South Lake.

Great Egret at South Lake

* * *

Forest Still Life

 

Russula and Lactarius Mushrooms with Lichen, Leaves & Acorn

One of my favorite photography pastimes is to wander around the forest looking for interesting fungi to make the centerpiece of a still life that includes various objects I find in the immediate vicinity. This morning I walked out the Benstein Trail and once again was impressed by how different the forest looks now. Where it was recently so thick with vegetation that in many places you couldn't even see very far much less stray very far off the trail. Completely new vistas have been opened up, and the forest floor is covered with wood chips. 

Until recently you'd never have seen so much blue sky through the woods from this vantage point along the Benstein Trail. 

Omphalotus Gills & Madrone Berries

Mushrooms & Berries

I was pretty sure when I first saw these that they were false chanterelles, but when I picked one and saw its gills I still did a double-take. These are Hygrophoropsis aurantiaca, and I'd never seen them sprouting in such profusion on Mt. Tam before. They love wood chips, though, and the forest floor is practically nothing but, so they might become more common.

This is just a small sample of what was there.

Omphalotus Gills with Rose Hips and Toyon, Lichen and Moss

Small Bolete with Acorns and Moss
(Possibly Xerocomus subtomentosus.)

Laccaria amethysteo-occidentalis on Moss

* * *

Upside Downy

 

Downy Woodpecker on Oak at Whiskey Hill, Golden Gate Park

I'd gone through nearly my whole walk through the Oak Woodland, the Fuchsia Dell, and Lily Lake on Friday morning without even taking my camera out of the knapsack, and I had little reason to think there'd be any action on my last leg before leaving the park via Whiskey Hill. However, a bunch of little birds took wing at my approach to an oaky section of the trail (the most birds I'd seen all morning), so I stopped to see what species they were, and whether any would stick around. 

A moment later I noticed a downy woodpecker who seemed to figure the oak it was pecking into presented more upside than taking flight with the juncos and other sparrows. The industrious woodpecker paid me no mind as I photographed it to my heart's content. Despite the sunny day, it was mostly shade on the hill, and I needed ISO 3200 just to get a 1/100th sec. exposure without the flash -- a little slow for a busy woodpecker.

There was a large swell rolling in at Ocean Beach, but not a single surfer was out. The waves might have become enticing at that size with a brisk offshore wind (which might come to pass on Saturday).

When I got home and turned on the radio while fixing lunch, Science Friday was on and they were interviewing a guy who does research on downy woodpeckers! One of the interesting findings is that downies not only peck very fast, but exhale as they strike their target with their bill. The researcher likened the exhalation to grunting, which adds a little extra oomph to the strike. So if the woodpecker pounds the oak at, say, 15 pecks per second, it's sort of hyperventilating since each exhalation is followed by an inhalation.

Note the use of its tail feathers to brace against the tree for stronger pecking.

Woodpecker at Work

I was surprised to see a monarch butterfly near the Bison Paddock and couldn't resist trying to photograph it. I got off my bike and waited expectantly while it almost landed on numerous different plants, only to eventually flitter too far away to chase. But just as I was heading back to my bike it circled back around, bumbling just a few feet from my legs at one point, and finally landing briefly on a nearby bush.

A Brief Meditation

* * *

Bando Brothers

 

Bando the Red-tailed Hawk & (Assumed) Sibling, Balboa Natural Area

After a morning of rain and clouds, the sun finally came back out. I watched it light up the Seal Rock that's farthest out first. I could imagine the pelicans and gulls and cormorants feeling relief at the warmth. Soon enough, even the Cliff House was in full sun.

The tail end of the storm looked interesting as it blew inland.

Meanwhile, just down the road at the Balboa Natural Area, Bando had just made an unsuccessful pounce on something in the dunes and soon took wing, using the strong wind to lift off.

After getting airborne he circled the dune area a couple of times before returning to a hunting perch on top of a streetlight pole.

Bando's sibling, meanwhile, was being accosted by ravens on a different streetlight.

The hawk finally said to heck with it and flew off the pole. One of the ravens immediate grabbed that dangling bit of carcass and took it away in its beak. I wondered if the stringy stuff was leftovers from the yesterday's road-killed gull (of which there was no longer any sign on the road).

The sibling also wheeled in circles over the dune area a couple of times, then took off to the south. I didn't see Bando around anymore either.

Then, just as I was leaving I noticed both hawks had landed on the same light post, apparently finishing the last tidbits of prey (or carrion).

* * *