May you and your loved ones have a joyous and safe Easter. May you be surrounded by peace, laughter and the spirit of renewal.
Went Hunting For Birds And I Got Skunked
A couple days ago I was out for sunrise along San Francisco Bay near my house, looking specifically for a Pacific Golden Plover in breeding plumage. One had been spotted in the area the day before, and I wanted to see if I could find him before he continued his migration north.
Upon arriving at the site, I immediately knew there would be no opportunities that morning. The tide was out, and all of the shorebirds were well out away from the sand in some soupy viscous mud. I knew that if I ventured out to where they were, I’d be at least up to my knees in the stuff, unable to move quietly, and a mucky mess. Oh well – I gave it a shot. Low tide was right around noon, which is usually a terrible time for photography.
As I turned around to head back to the car, I saw some movement in the rocks that separate the beach from a bay trail. To my surprise it was a striped skunk, heading out for a late breakfast. I had only ever seen skunks before at dusk, and usually when its already fairly dark out.
He descended into the pickleweed and disappeared entirely. Most of the time, he could only be detected by the rustling of bushes, and loud smacking and crunching whenever he ate what he dug up. Occasionally a beautiful tail would appear waving above the pickleweed.
As he moved closer to me, I would back up, making sure to give him plenty of space. It was extremely difficult to keep focus on him as he moved through the pickleweed, because he could move quickly when he wanted to, and I usually only got to see flashes of black fur. Finally however, he emerged at the edge of the thicket and gave me the shot I was hoping for. A quick burst of frames and I got only one keeper which is the first shot of the post.
Creature From The Deep
I often photograph out in Redwood Shores, CA, a town within Redwood City that juts out into the San Francisco Bay. It is a suburb consisting of homes and townhouses built around a network of man-made water channels, offering many backyards direct water access. All that water also attracts a great variety of birds.
A little while ago I was tracking a bird down at the edge of one of the water channels. I was about ten feet below the bay trail, out of sight of any passerbys. As I was looking through my lens, I heard a soft “sploosh” very close to me. I could tell something big had disturbed the water to my left. At first I though that maybe someone was throwing rocks into the channel, but then I realized the sound was too gentle to have been caused by a rock. I looked up and scanned the water, but all I saw were concentric rings emanating from a spot about fifteen feet from shore.
Then, suddenly a large head emerged not far from that spot – big eyes staring into mine.
I was surprised to see a harbor seal pop up and investigate me. We sat there for a while, just looking at each other as the sun set and everything fell silent. He obliged while I swung my camera around to photograph him. Then he submerged and over the next ten or fifteen minutes, he appeared at various distances, each time looking in my direction.
Afterward, I learned that he was an off and on regular in this neighborhood. Apparently he got through one or more water control gates that lead out into the bay. Either he is very smart and can return to these channels at will, or he is stuck here, fishing the shallow channels. Whatever the case, he seems to be thriving. I have seen him since on several other occasions (assuming it is the same harbor seal of course). The next time I see a large mysterious shadow passing just below the surface of the water, I’ll know who it is.
A ground squirrel dinner
Recently I was out photographing birds, but perhaps a little too early in the day for the typical evening activities. Most were slumbering in the late afternoon heat. However, the California ground squirrels were out in force, foraging and grooming, and generally looking cute.
After watching this one give himself a vigorous dirt bath, he hung around the area for a quick snack. He slowly moved from one thistle patch to another, plucking leaves and daintily gnawing at the edges of each leaf until it was gone. A quick look to each side and he was on to the next plant.
As he did this, I couldn’t help but notice how dextrous his tiny hands were in the way he plucked and handled each leaf, slowly turning it in a circle as he bit at the edges. Although they are so numerous it is easy to take them for granted (or think of them as pests!), they certainly are entertaining to watch.