November at the Lagoon

November at the Lagoon

By Gerry Traucht

 

Around mid-November, I saw some interesting events at the Berkeley Lagoon. Normally, the lagoon is rather calm during this time of year. Occasionally, one could see up to four or six Brown Pelicans at a time. But on a mid-November morning, I saw something remarkable: about 35 (and counting!) enormous Pelican fledglings among the adult Pelicans. There were nearly as many Cormorants with adolescents as well. To top everything off, Snowy Egrets arrived with their teenagers.

At the peak of my observations, I saw nearly one hundred Egrets, Pelicans and Cormorants, gathered by the lagoon. Photos below.

For a couple of November days, usually around 9 am, as if on signal, the Egrets would gather into a group by the mud mound. An adult squawked at late arrivals and stray youngsters while herding them into a loose standing formation until they all faced the water.

 

 

The Egrets stood, waiting. Watching. One was distracted, another grabbed a fish. Soon they all stood quietly, observing the lagoon. This was the same spot where the October Egrets performed their gymnastic fishing, each in turn flying the loop. The set of Snowy Egrets I saw in November seemed to be a different group. In this magical location, however, an equally eye-opening event happened.

For over two weeks in November, the group activities built and led to a climax of interesting behaviors. In the beginning, the three species would visit each other, hang out and barge into each group’s activities. Many of the birds engaged in play, lounging around the lagoon in various combinations of two or three species.

The fishing process appeared playful. It looked to me like a joyous reunion among these waterbirds and waders. Much revolved around the adults instigating activity, as the curious young birds found friends amongst themselves. There, in mid-day moments of profound group contentment, these birds rested, drifted and glided along the lagoon in dream-like calm.

On November 26th, the Pelicans, Cormorants, and Snowy Egrets came together in an event that resembled a procession out of a carnival. Does nature have Fellini-esque gatherings? This menagerie waded, swam flew, dove, and moved together in a caravan, often two abreast with clusters of Pelicans in the middle. Leading the caravan were a pair of Cormorants. Other groups of Cormorants hid among the clustered Pelicans. Some swam and watched along the sides of the lagoon.…

Late Fall, Snowy Egrets

Late Fall, Snowy Egrets

By Gerry Traucht

 

Editor’s Note: Gerry offers us glimpses of what he sees at and near his home. This unique collection embodies the qualities of the Japanese poetic form, Zuihitsu. Zuihitsu is genre of Japanese literature (since adapted by many Western writers) consisting of loosely connected personal essays or fragmented ideas that typically respond to the author’s surroundings. All photos taken by Gerry. 

 

Early October a surprise: the Snowy Egrets were suddenly back.

This year, they did something unusual that I hadn’t seen before at the Berkeley Aquatic Park Lagoon. For eight days, morning and afternoon, they stood together in a group by the mud mound, then one by one each egret took off. In an acrobatic flight, they flew in a loop over the water and returned.

Each egret took turns in skuttling, skimming the water in a surface-bouncing flight in one wide loop, each defining the same space of interest. Each egret flew the loop in a low pointed toe, foot-dragging flight before returning to the group, where the next egret was already taking off, to fly the circle with its acrobatics. As each solo flight took place, the group stood, watching, as if judging or learning from the performance and waiting the impulse for the next turn.

 

The visiting October Snowy Egrets gathered by the mud mound. After a while of standing and watching, one egret took off, drawing a large circle with a wake made of ringlets by skimming, hopping and dragging its extended toes. The others waited and watched. One by one, the egrets took turns, timed like in a relay, one egret taking off as the other landed.

One by one, well-timed, on it went.

Egrets flying the loop

 

Flying the loop This pic shows the ringlets the circular path the egret is flying designating their area of interest for their acrobatic fishing.

Alternately touching and dragging its toes on water while flying, the egret leaves a circular path made of a chain of ringlets.

An egret up close

As the first egret finishes its circle, it returns to shallow water by the mud mound. The next egret is already taking off as the first is landing. Each egret flies the loop. One at a time, they are orderly. Each flies a single loop.

Fishing while flying

Frame by frame the camera follows the flight. The egret is fishing, sometimes making 3 strikes, catching 3 fish, as it makes its circle loop and returns to the group.…

Food Fest for Birds

Food Fest for Birds

By Leanne Grossman

 

It’s about 11:45 am on November 14th when I notice thousands of transparent wings lift into the sky. Termite larvae are emerging from the bricks of my backyard patio and becoming alates (their wings develop fairly instantly). In the past, no critters had overtly noticed them, but this year, local birds and migrators are indulging in an endless feast. The female alates are seeking males to mate with and start their own colonies.

A pair of Oak Titmice fly down from the coastal live oak branches overhead.

Oak Titmouse by Leanne

They are dive-bombing the winged insects and grabbing them like flycatchers do. Five Yellow-rumped Warblers take advantage of the termite swarmers, eating them off the ground and flying to and from perches where the birds can spot the biggest groups of insects.

Termite Alates by Leanne

It’s noontime and the Western Scrub Jay arrives to his resident territory. He’s a bit late to the party and he is too large to have the agility to catch the termites sky-bound. But he hops around the patio and the dirt eating the larvae, and doesn’t scare off the smaller species of birds that arrived first.

At 12:30 pm, the Bewick’s Wren, which I hear fairly frequently, arrived and hopped over to the insects on the brick. After an hour or so, I thought the birds were fully engorged, but they only paused, then resumed their foray. It’s kind of like me and chocolate—there’s just no such thing as too much!

Western Scrub Jay by Leanne

In the past I’ve guiltily tried to water the termites to death on the patio before they could take flight. I did not want to see my home or my neighbors’ homes infested. But now—no more murder! I feel much better leaving them be so the birds can meet their protein requirements.

I am hoping the Anna’s Hummingbirds who nectar at the abutilon tree will partake in the termite feast since their diet requires daily protein as well as nectar. But the hummers don’t appear. It could be that the alate wings, about ½ inch in length, are just too hard to get down their tiny throats even with their forked tongues. With excellent vision, hummers pluck tiny insects out of the air, some of the insects being so small humans can’t even see them.

Often Chestnut-backed Chickadees stop here to nectar, but on this day, although they normally eat insects, they are not interested in this meal.…

Fall is the New Spring

Fall is the New Spring

By Liam O’Brien

 

It’s almost a cliche – comes the Spring comes the butterflies! Since they coevolved with flowering plants for the most part it’s true. But did you know that fall is actually the best time to see them? Females disperse far beyond their known ranges to mix up the genetic pool and one has an opportunity to see species they don’t usually get to see in the spring. Of course the opposite is true as well. Spring butterflies are normally done by mid May.

Nectar sources were just about spent when I started the second half of this year-long inventory (which has now been extended another three years up here – yippee!) I was pleased to see Field Crescents (Phyciodes puchella) had found the Pacific Aster they need to host on.

Field Crescent (Phyciodes puchella) by Liam O’Brien

This pretty little butterfly patrols in and out of the aster all day and takes advantage of the Coyote brush just coming into bloom. Small butterflies visiting smallish flowers. The girls have a different pattern than the boys and it took me awhile when I first began this mania that I wasn’t looking at a different species. This butterfly is bivoltine (two distinct flights in the year) in the city but this fall flight seems to be easier to see for folks. There was no spring flight up here as far as I could see.

My regulars were present in good numbers up here. There is one particular bush where the Anise Swallowtails (Papilio zelicaon) perch waiting for a mate. Aside from early visits in the spring I’d seen at least one there on every visit. Umber Skippers (Poanes melane): these two, along with Red Admirals, Cabbage Whites and Painted Ladies make up the rarified group of butterflies that can be observed 12 months a year here in San Francisco – one has the ability to see them all on the wing in any month. All the other 30 species have briefer flights. The Umbers by early September were easily becoming the most ubiquitous butterfly on the summit of Sutro.

It was this time of the year that the first Monarch (Danaus plexippus) floated out of a clearing before me.

Monarch (Danaus plexippus) by Liam O’Brien

I have had a strange relationship with this species since my butterfly mania kicked in years back that I’ll go into briefly here.…

A World Exposed Volume 2: The (humming)birds and the bees

A World Exposed Volume 2: The (humming)birds and the bees

By Tara McIntire

 

Here we are, over six months of sheltering in place and my birding has forever been changed.  First, it was adjusted to include jumping spiders, but now I’ve found another new world and focus.

Don’t worry, I’m still always looking for birds, and thankfully there seems to be a fairly consistent brigade of hummingbirds with sounds of wing-whirs and chirps, as they zoom about the yard feeding on various plants and at my feeder. Always a fan favorite, these fierce and thoroughly entertaining avian acrobats are territorial wings of terror. In this small yard, sometimes you have to actually get out of their way!  Thank goodness they are small!

A male Anna’s hummingbird keeps a watchful eye out for intruders at ‘his’ feeder.

Between seemingly endless Zoom meetings, I have continued to skulk around my tiny yard, camera in hand. One day, I heard a sound that made me look for the hummingbirds, but soon realized it was emanating from the blooming purple basil that I found covered with bees!  The shutter clicking began and the images I captured revealed yet another amazing world.

As with so many infatuations and love affairs, it started with they eyes. My first few macro images exposed these remarkable honeybee eyes.  They looked ‘hairy’ and with a little ‘googling’ revealed, honeybees indeed have hairs on the largest two of their five eyes (yes, you read that correctly) and it is believed these hairs aid in navigating windy conditions. It gives new meaning to the term ‘hairy eyeball’!

A European Honeybee feeding on a purple basil bloom.

 

A closer look reveals the literally ‘hairy’ eyeball.

I spent the next few days during ‘micro-breaks’ with my camera (who really needs a bio-break or food?) taking an even closer look at these prolific pollinators when I realized there wasn’t just one ‘type’ of bee.  What we know as the common and familiar honeybee is actually an introduced species of European honeybee (Apis mellifera) and one of approximately 90 identified species of bees found in the Bay Area. Who knew? I most definitely did not. Utilizing iNaturalist (a fantastic tool for identification and listing), I have been able to recognize 10 species in my yard, so far.  Of those, I have become quite enamored with one in particular.   The Wool Carder bee, which is also an introduced European species, (a topic for another time), stood out not only in its physical make-up, but also because of its behavior.…