Wednesday, February 8, 2023

Woodbridge Ecological Reserve

 

Sandhill Cranes Above & Below, With Mt. Diablo

Sometimes you don't realize how long it's been since you last visited a place, even when your visit was to see, and hear, "the oldest living bird species on the planet." I would not have guessed that it's been ten years since I last drove out to Woodbridge Ecological Reserve to visit the sandhill cranes. When I looked up the reserve in preparation for my trip I found that you now need to buy a California Department of Fish and Wildlife Lands Pass, which can be had for about five bucks a day, but you have to specify the day in advance. I like to keep my schedule open, though, and since the money goes toward conservation, I bought an annual pass for $30.50, and I hope to get a lot more use out of it.

The parking area at the viewing platform seemed much the same as my last visit in January 2012, except for the chickens. It was still dark when I arrived, and when I turned off the car engine, a cock crowed. And then he crowed again. He was sounding off from his roost in a nearby tree, and can still be heard in the video below.

Even though it's been ten years since my last visit, I could still recall to mind the staccato honks of the cranes calling out to each other, a sound that might not have changed in the last 2.5 million years. It was exciting to hear them again in person. They were somewhere off in the dark distance, though, with none close to the viewing platform, so I drove farther up the road until I found a few cranes in a flooded field. Many of the regal birds had yet to stir to life, content to keep their beaks tucked warmly under their wings. 

Distant shotgun pops punctuated a soundscape owned mostly by the companion calls of snow geese and cranes. Both are popular game birds. The cranes tended to gather together in little cocktail party groups, while the snow geese gathered in their multitudes like conventioneers at a HonkerCon.

Once the sun came up, the cranes began to stir and fly off in small groups to their feeding grounds. It wasn't long before the group I'd been watching had dwindled away to nothing, gone like the wind. I drove north on Thornton Road to see if any of the cranes flew off to the nearby Cosumnes River Preserve, but it seemed pretty quiet there. I continued north to the Stone Lakes National Wildlife Refuge which seemed even more quiet, then continued west to pick up CA-160 which heads south on a levee along the Sacramento River. The route criss-crosses the river over draw-bridges built in the 1920s and last rehabilitated more than 60 years ago (see video for crossing of the Steamboat Slough Bridge). Think about that the next time you cross one of these scenic old gems. 

Driving along the levee road was quite enjoyable, with the river right there, some interesting tiny towns along the way, and very light traffic all the way to Rio Vista. My final scenic stop came just before CA-160 crosses a bridge near the confluence of the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers, where I pulled onto the shoulder to watch a huge flock of snow geese lift off and spiral back down to a new feeding ground. Green and burly Mt. Diablo ruled the background to the south, and a wind farm backdropped the geese to the north. 


Resting Cranes and Myriad Waterfowl at Dawn


Flocks of Snow Geese Getting An Early Start


The Cranes Begin to Stir


In small groups, the cranes peel away toward their feeding grounds.


Roadside Tree Silhouette


Same Tree in the Morning Sun


Moon Setting Over Almond Orchard


Birds Lifting My Spirits


Layers of the Land


Overflight


Going the Other Way


King of the Viewing Platform


Snow Geese Along Sacramento River South of Rio Vista


SMUD's Solano 4 Wind Project


Mark Your Calendars!

A Cock Crows, A Bridge Is Crossed


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Monday, February 6, 2023

Cloud Drama

 

Storm Clouds Roll Over The City

I'm a sucker for dramatic skies. I always want the window seat on airplanes so I can ogle and photograph the clouds. It's hard to believe these clouds were howling and boiling overhead just yesterday, drenching us with downpours and exciting us with hailstones. Today I drove out to Woodbridge Ecological Reserve to observe the sandhill cranes before they and their friends the snow geese head north, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. 

Once again (yesterday, that is) I'd hoped to catch a rainbow arching over the Golden Gate, the Marin Headlands, and Mt. Tamalpais, but no such luck. During a break in the storm I biked down to Ocean Beach just to be out in the wind and sunshine. Boy, the Giant Camera sure has taken a beating this year. The observation deck is open again, and I enjoyed watching the scintillating silvery sea swells, though I had to squint to keep from burning my eyes out.

I'd already decided not to go back to Grandview Park to try again for a rainbow in the late afternoon since photographing another cityscape doesn't inspire me that much. Instead I kicked back on the couch and continued re-reading my book, The Vital Question, by the biochemist Nick Lane. Excellent stuff. Meanwhile my wife was on the other couch scrolling on her phone when she noticed some of the neighbors out on their balcony, way up the hill. It's pretty rare that we see anyone actually use their balconies, and when they started pointing and taking pictures, my wife said, "I'll bet there's a rainbow!" I bookmarked Nick Lane and we rushed to our back window, and sure enough, there was a pretty decent rainbow. We could see it from our back window, but I grabbed my FZ80 and went outside to snap a photo.

Looks like we've got lots of sunshine forecast for the rest of the week, which is great, but I can't help hoping that February has more rain in store.


Light in the North


Yikes


Liquid Light


Swell Dance


It looked like the tail end, but there was more to come.


Rainbow Over Mt. Sutro

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Saturday, February 4, 2023

Metson Lake

 

Common Yellowthroat

Riding my bike through Golden Gate Park on Friday I noticed a large Monterey cypress had toppled into Metson Lake. There was only one pair of ducks on the lake, and none of the geese I frequently see there. No other people either, as it was quite wet. So it was very quiet around that too-green pond. Maybe too quiet. The lone pair of ducks seemed nervous as I approached, with the female quacking quietly as if to say, "Keep an eye on this one." A Golden Gate Park duck that's afraid of human beings? Not bloody likely. Perhaps they'd been present when the tree fell and were still shaken up. As soon as I stopped, the hen commenced to quack in earnest as she flapped and skedaddled across the lake's surface, the drake in close pursuit, and flew away to more congenial grounds. 

Just out of curiosity I checked my photo files this morning to see if I had a picture of the lake showing that fallen tree when it was still standing, but all I found were pictures of birds I'd photographed around the lake back on November 27, 2008, including one of my local favorites, the Common Yellowthroat.

My next stop was Stow Lake, where they are repairing part of the walking path. Either the construction notice got the name of the lake wrong, or they are putting the new path on the wrong lake (see picture below)!


Black Phoebe


Common Yellowthroat


Robin Gets A Berry


Pygmy Nuthatch Finds Water


Young Robin in Cotoneaster Bush


Angry-Looking House Finch Shares A Multicultural Bath


Young White-Crowned Sparrow


Fallen Cypress at Metson Lake on February 3, 2023


Construction Sign for Spreckles Lake at Stow Lake

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