Shell Beach is a small strip of broken shells at the eastern end of Foster City, California. It is a popular spot for shorebirds year round, and a nice stop over for migrants. I went there at dawn recently to check it out, and see who was around. The tide was out, so there was plenty of freshly exposed mud for the birds to poke around in looking for food. Several marbled godwits controlled the scene, keeping some of the smaller birds away from the prime real estate.
Quite a few black-bellied plover were present, still in their winter plumage. They stood at the very edge of the bay, soaking in the warming rays of the rising sun.
A willet roamed further from the water, preferring the broken shells that give the beach its name. It obliged me with a brief look back over its shoulder, giving me a quick opportunity for a portrait. Then it disappeared into some tall grass and out of sight for the morning.
Turning back to the beach, I saw a distant speck making its way toward me. I couldn’t distinguish what it was from that distance, but I knew it was different from any other bird currently around me. Since it was headed my direction, I hunkered down and waited, knowing that it is always better to let birds approach you, rather than risk spooking them. Eventually the speck materialized into a ruddy turnstone, pecking at the mud. It was soon joined by several others, who all continued past me and off into the rising sun.
Overall it was a pretty quiet morning at the edge of the bay. But an excellent way to welcome the morning.
Canada Geese are everywhere around the San Francisco Bay. And I mean everywhere. This year-round resident breeds throughout the bay area and infests parks, lakes, sidewalks, and streets. The geese are so ubiquitous, that most people just block them out and ignore them. But every once in a while it pays to scan flock of Canada Geese – you might just find one that sticks out.
Such is the case with the Greater White-fronted Goose, which (at least in my area) tends to hang out with larger groups of Canada Geese. They are slightly uncommon for the area, but in the winter you might find one or two with their Canada brethren. A singular Ross’s or Snow Goose can also be found mixing it up with Canada Geese, as can the Cackling Goose, which looks almost identical to a Canada Goose, except that it is the size of a mallard.
I found this goose in a local park along the bay. I set up a little ways away and waited for him to separate from all the Canada Geese so that I could get some solo shots. He was quite cooperative, posing occasionally for some portraits like the photo above. I used an aperture of f/8 in order to have enough depth of field to cover his entire body. If I kept the aperture large and focused on his eye, the close edge of his round body would likely have been out of focus.
Spring is in the air, and so is the reproductive instinct of many local bird species. I had the opportunity recently to photograph an American avocet pair copulating, and was able to record the interesting mating dance that occurred immediately afterward. Remaining monogamous throughout the breeding season, this pair will soon likely select a local nest site, or migrate north to nest (avocets are both migratory and year-round residents of the SF bay area).
As they begin, the female signals to the male that she’s ready by standing alert with her head low and forward, close to the water. The male stands next to his mate, or directly behind her.
In one quick motion, the males jumps up onto the female’s back. Breeding only lasts a few seconds, during which time the male flaps his wings repeatedly. Just as quickly, he jumps down again.
Immediately after copulation, the avocets turn toward each other and cross beaks. Each bill rests against the other’s neck, with the male standing slightly taller than the female. Holding this position, they walk in several tight circles.
Once the circles are completed, they march off together side-by-side. I always find it fascinating to watch these intricate rituals that have developed over thousands of years.
Recently I spent a morning photographing the sea life in Moss Landing, California. The harbor at Moss Landing boasts a great variety of sea birds and mammals, and is favorite spot for many sea otters. I woke early and arrived at the harbor at dawn, hoping to catch some of the wildlife in early morning light. Most of the usual suspects were there, including the common loon.
Also seen cruising around the harbor, occasionally diving for food were several surf scoters. A male, resplendent with his colorful beak came close, probably to see if I was one of those fishermen who might have some bait to spare.
And then of course, there were the sea otters, probably the most popular attraction at the harbor. I saw about twenty to thirty of them all floating together, either diving and eating, playfully wresting each other in the water, or just floating on their backs, taking a bit of a nap. One otter in particular had an entertaining way of grooming himself. First, he would lick one paw while rubbing the back of his head with his other paw. Then he’d switch paws, slowly cleaning the back and sides of his head.
After repeating this behavior for several minutes, it was time for the face massage. Opening his mouth, he’d lightly rub his cheeks in small circles. After a while, he really got into what he was doing, opening and closing his mouth and sticking out his tongue occasionally. Abruptly he stopped, and went back to licking his paws and cleaning his head.
Sea lions and harbor seals were also in attendance at the harbor. Most of the sea lions were crowded on a pier waiting for fishing boats to return and share their left-overs. Unfortunately, the time of day did not cooperate with the only angle of approach I had, and all of my photos were severely back lit. The harbor seals however were busy traveling to and fro, so I had better opportunities with them.
As the morning stretched on, more tourists arrived and the harbor started to get crowded. I was happy to have woken early and arrived at dawn, giving me plenty of time in relative solitude with the animals. Pretty soon it was time to leave. The sun was high overhead, most of the wildlife had scattered, and the otters had settled in for a nice long lazy day in the waves.