• SF Bay Ospreys 2021 Season

    By Osprey Cam Video Assistant

    Comparing our past five seasons of Osprey cam footage, I’d have to say the 2021 season was one of the best for our SF Bay Osprey family. Three healthy juveniles were successfully launched into the world while the infamous Ospreys we know as Rosie and Richmond, worked together seamlessly and devotedly from beginning to end.

    It all began on a beautiful afternoon in mid-February. The winds were soft, the air clear, when an Osprey landed lightly on the nest. Someone in the live chat noted the arrival. Would it be another floater? Richmond? The camera zoomed in. A surprised yet triumphant cry, “It’s Rosie!”. It was her earliest return yet recorded, and the joy of her successful return raised everyone’s spirits after a long, pandemic-shrouded winter.

    Rosie the Osprey returns to the nest by SF Bay Osprey CamRosie returns to the nest by SF Bay Osprey Cam

    Despite Rosie’s early return, Richmond was remarkably absent. Days passed, and while Rosie was frequently seen around the nest area, she was always alone. Did Richmond even realize she was back? In years past he had appeared within minutes or at most hours of Rosie’s return (see all of Rosie’s arrivals and departures over the years). Finally, a full week after her return, both Rosie and Richmond appeared at the nest together. The season could finally begin. 

    Rosie and Richmond on the nest by SF Bay Osprey CamRosie and Richmond on the nest by SF Bay Osprey Cam

    After a few weeks spent rebuilding the nest and getting reacquainted, Rosie laid her first egg March 24, about a week early from previous seasons. Seventy-one hours later came the second egg, and 73 hours after that, on March 30, the final egg was laid. 

    If you haven’t followed the Osprey cam for long, one thing you need to know is that Richmond absolutely loves being a dad. He and Rosie vie for the chance to sit on the eggs, and occasionally Richmond will even position himself right next to Rosie to “help”.

    Rosie and Richmond coincubate eggs by SF Bay Osprey Cam Rosie and Richmond coincubate eggs by SF Bay Osprey Cam

    Fishing and Banding and Surprises, Oh My!

    Right on schedule, the first egg hatched May 3. One of the musically inclined Live Chatters, craigor, put the first bobblehead to music. By May 5th, Rosie and Richmond had three healthy Osprey chicks to feed. Richmond, who had been bringing 12-15 fish per week during incubation, started ramping up his deliveries, and just a few weeks later was bringing 25-30 fish per week, many of them trout from the San Pablo Reservoir 7 miles away. …

  • Field Guide: An Artist’s Approach to Avian Taxonomy

    By Christopher Reiger 

    In March 2020, I was excited. After 15 years of full and part-time jobs in administration and communications, I was finally in my studio five days a week and our two young boys were both in daycare programs. Creatively, I was cranking. In addition to a number of in-progress illustration and design jobs, I’d just completed studies for eight new works on paper. On social media, I shared a photo of my studio wall covered with freshly-pressed sheets of watercolor paper; the caption read, “Those blank sheets? They won’t be blank for long.” 

    Overnight, though, the pandemic made me a stay-at-home dad. Because the boys were so young (4 and 2 at the pandemic’s start), it was challenging, but, like parents everywhere, I made do. Yard exploration and reading were our go-to sanity-saving activities. Outside, we flipped fieldstones in search of ring-necked snakes and arboreal or California slender salamanders, and we watched California scrub-jays, bushtits, oak titmice, acorn woodpeckers, and many other local bird species work through the valley and coast live oaks. Inside, we embraced twice-daily epic story blocks, reading The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, the Narnia Chronicles, the Harry Potter series, Wind In The Willows, The Jungle Books, and more. By the time the boys were asleep at day’s end, I was beat; my only working window was 8 p.m. to midnight, but “dadding” exhaustion made it difficult for me to take on many illustration/design gigs, and my art practice was completely fallow.

    Still, bleary though it was, my mind needed a creative outlet. In the days’ interstitial spaces, I started turning over an unrealized idea I’d jotted down in a sketchbook years ago – “create bird species paint chips.” There was a germ of something exciting there, but what? 

    Acorn Woodpecker in the "bird species paint chip" project Field Guide.Acorn Woodpecker in the “bird species paint chip” project Field Guide.

    Then came the summer of 2020. As our society wrestled with racial injustice, past and present, I found myself thinking a lot about how we humans classify and catalog life. The social implications of our evolved human impulse to categorize are generally grim (see: human history), but that same proclivity allows us to better appreciate evolution and the relationship between species, subspecies, and ecotypes. As a natural history nerd, I value taxonomy’s utility, but I’m also enamored of its flux and ever-provisional nature. I decided that the “paint chip” idea must be realized as a project that playfully celebrates and critiques the necessarily imperfect science of taxonomy.…

  • Not for beginners only: Two new birding books

    By Ilana DeBare

    There are birding books that are great for beginners, and then there are birding books that are great for beginners AND.

    The past several months saw publication of two unique bird guides that will charm experienced birders as well as novices—especially those of us living in the Bay Area. These are Birds of Lake Merritt, by Alex Harris, and Neighborhood Birding 101 by Seymore Gulls.

    Birds of Lake Merritt

    Birds of Lake Merritt (Heyday Press, $25) continues the format of Birds of Berkeley, which was also published by Berkeley-based Heyday Press three years ago. Written and illustrated by Alex Harris, this slender volume features simple yet striking watercolors of 15 local bird species and a page of description about each one.

    It also offers a detailed history of Lake Merritt’s development from a tidal estuary and the country’s first publicly-designated wildlife refuge to its current status as—in Outdoor Afro founder Rue Mapp’s words—”nature’s heartbeat in Oakland.”

    Birds of Lake Merritt book coverBirds of Lake Merritt by Alex Harris

    Harris’ path to creating this book was not direct. He started out trying to teach himself hawk ID by painting raptors. But painting hawks from photos didn’t prepare him for actual field identification. “It turns out that you mostly see hawks from beneath, hundreds of feet away, a blurred silhouette circling in the skies above,” wrote Harris, who lives in Oakland. “I decided I should look a little closer to home, so I rode my bike over to the bird sanctuary at Lake Merritt.”

    Harris includes natural history tidbits such as Green Herons using breadcrumbs and insects as lures to attract the fish they’re hunting, and the fact that Canvasbacks were once so plentiful here that a Spanish map from 1775 refers to “forests of the red duck.” He also includes observations by some well-known local birders including Golden Gate Bird Alliance youth educator Clay Anderson, former GGBA Executive Director Cindy Margulis, and “How to Do Nothing” author Jenny Odell.

    Canvasback page from Birds of Lake MerrittCanvasback page from Birds of Lake Merritt

    This book is no substitute for a comprehensive field guide. But its illustrations will bring a smile to birders on days when it’s too rainy to venture out in the field. (Let’s hope we have more of those days this winter!)

    And it’s a great, eye-opening gift for non-birder Oakland residents who enjoy walking, jogging, or picnicking alongside the lake.

    Neighborhood Birding 101: An Identification Guide to Washington, Oregon, and Northern California’s Most Common Neighborhood Birds

    Don’t ask me if Seymore Gulls is really this writer’s name.…

  • Chaetura Swifts: From trees to chimneys

    By Rusty Scalf

    Even a passing acquaintance with the natural world reveals that species exist on a continuum from Specialist to Generalist—from species that require a very particular habitat to those that can survive in a variety of places. Both have their strengths but the vulnerabilities of the specialist are easily seen. What happens to the specialist when their special habitat is impacted? Obviously, it becomes “adapt or perish.”

    Vaux’s Swifts (Chaetura vauxi) and Chimney Swifts (Chaetura pelagica)—both of which evolved to rely on hollow trees for nesting and roosting—are a case in point. What happens when humans destroy old growth forests and remove hollow trees and snags? These swifts have adapted to a different vertical, tubular structure, the chimney: residential chimneys for nesting, and large, pre-World War II industrial chimneys for migratory roosting. Why pre-World War II? Because the older chimneys are often made of concrete or brick with rough inner walls where birds can grasp and hang, while modern industrial chimneys are either metal or ceramic lined. So the chimneys used by swifts are antique, with all the scarcity and fragility this implies.

    McNear Brickyard Swifts by Michael HelmSwifts at McNear Brickyard in September by Michael Helm

    Here in the Bay Area, Vaux’s Swifts have been using the tall chimneys at McNear Brickyard in San Rafael as a staging site during fall migration for many years; possibly since these were decommissioned in 1962. Conversion from trees to human structures happened in a dramatic and complete way for the eastern Chimney Swift well more than a century ago. Now the western Vaux’s Swift is undergoing that same process.

    The switch seems complete for migratory roost sites—so complete that the birds appear to be imprinted* on these big chimneys for migratory staging. Meanwhile, the conversion is well under way for nesting as well. Pacific Northwest towns commonly see Vaux’s Swifts nesting in chimneys. Here, at the extreme southern end of their breeding range, residential chimney nesting is happening in places like Sebastopol, Santa Rosa, and Napa Valley.

    Chimney entry during mid-September peak migration is a sight difficult to describe. It’s just incredible to see thousands of birds pouring into a 100-foot-tall chimney, sometimes at rates of 10 to 15 per second. It’s equally amazing to witness their extensive aerial displays, or murmurations, prior to going in. These displays can last half an hour near sunset. They end when some unknown trigger causes birds to begin pouring into the chimney, often after several apparent “feints” or false starts.…

  • Honoring the Berkeley Bird Festival

    By Ryan Nakano

    Just over three week ago, Golden Gate Bird Alliance, in partnership with the California Institute of Community, Art and Nature, held the inaugural Berkeley Bird Festival, which I’m delighted to say was a great success. 

    Of course, success is subjective and dependent upon how we measure it. Since the festival ended, I’ve had more time to reflect on what exactly we were trying to accomplish. After several conversations with key organizers and participants I realized the festival’s success boiled down to its ability to answer a central question; how do we recognize birds?

    In the context of birding, this is often a question about identification. In the context of the festival, recognition was more akin to honor. How do we honor birds? In what ways do we choose to acknowledge them for the beautiful creatures they are?

    Eco-Ed Director Clay Anderson finishes his Peregrine Falcon chalk art at the Berkeley Bird FestivalEco-Ed Director Clay Anderson finishes his Peregrine Falcon chalk art at the Berkeley Bird Festival

    On the Saturday before the festival, our very own Clay Anderson, Director of Eco-Education, spent seven hours on the hard concrete semi-circle in front of the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology (MVZ) at UC Berkeley. The next morning, he spent two more hours completing his chalk art masterpiece of a giant Peregrine Falcon, honoring the world’s fastest bird, and more specifically, the falcons known as Annie and Grinnell that nest on top of UC Berkeley’s historic Campanile.

    Throughout the day others followed suit and took part in the practice of chalking out their favorite birds, not only outside of the MVZ, where a collection of bird specimens were on display, but also on the walkway near Li Ka Shing Center and at the entrance of Gather Kitchen Bar and Market. 

    U.C. Campus Birding Field Trip for the Berkeley Bird Festival by Dan HarrisU.C. Campus Birding Field Trip during the Berkeley Bird Festival by Dan Harris

    Meanwhile, seven out of nine field trip groups set out in the early morning with scopes and binoculars to honor the diverse birdlife in Berkeley through the practice of birdwatching.

    With over 200 people in total registered for these trips, each field trip filled to capacity and were generally well received by those in attendance.

    “It was a really fun morning. I don’t think this trip was geared towards kids but the guy leading it was awesome and the group was really welcoming to both my 7 and 10 year old,” attendee Erik Dreher said of the UC Botanical Garden trip. “I remember we saw some rowdy flickers, a couple warblers and some sapsuckers.”…