• Journeying Homeward From Home

    By Gerry Traucht
    His name is Hello.
    When I say, Hello, to an empty sky, a crow appears.
    It takes a minute or two if he’s far away. He stops by solo several times a day, flapping by a window or a door. Once in a while he brings his mate.
    Here he is outside the kitchen door.

    When no one is near the doorway, he invites himself in. Now he’s inside by the window.
    This is his second time inside. He knows the layout.
    He comes through the upstairs back doorway, through the house, down the interior stairs and waits for me to go around and open the front door for him to exit.
    Free, he sits on the sign near the front porch.
    Perched at the window.
    Here he is on the street sign after I let him out. He’s in no hurry leave.

    Our future meetings need to be planned for outdoors, exclusively. He’s messy.
    I enjoy his visits.
    With a flapping of wings, he announces his presence. He shuffles along the edge of a roof gutter with a semi-pleasant sound, letting me know where he is. He disappears. I spot him after a minute.
    He takes pleasure in vanishing while remaining near.
    He’ll sit the fence with his back toward me, or fly to a tree, roof, gutter, deck, sometimes the ground, tilt his head, watching, waiting for me to say Hello.
    Today, with my dog resting nearby, he stays near while I pull weeds. He finds a container of sealed dog treats on a backyard table. It’s not for him. But he demonstrates he can open it. Nature in action.
    His visits seem to invite me stay outside.
    He comes by daily now, staging a black blur flitting by a window where I’m sure to glimpse him. A bit dramatic. He adds a cawing, when it’s only a flyby, See you in a few. He returns in a few, in blurs.
    Crashing empty hemp bottles and a storm of wooden duck souvenirs from Bali fly from a windowsill in series of waves of crescendoing noise into a metal sink. My crow neighbor transforms our kitchen into a thriller with surreal characters and action, all without breaking anything.
    Twice we were treated to a murder of crows, shaking up two slow nights while sheltering in place at home. Both shows happened at the tip the tall tree behind our house accented by the pink hues of the clouds following the sundown.
    …

  • How I Came to Love Owls Even More

    By Alan Krakauer

    I wish this was a normal spring and summer. However, if I had to pick one up-side to being forced to bird so close to home this year, it would be getting to know my local Great Horned Owls a little better. Of all the feathered denizens of Wildcat Canyon Regional Park, the owls are one of my favorites to run into.

    The story of the nest itself comes with a bit of mystery. Through the beginning of March, I watched a pair of Common Ravens attending a large sloppy pile of sticks high in a Monterey pine tree next to the parking lot. I might see the tail of one raven jutting over the edge of the nest, while its mate would perch watchfully in a nearby eucalyptus or oak.  Then the virus hit. We adjusted to the new Covid-19 restrictions, and for a few weeks my visits grew infrequent.

    In mid-April I looked again and the nest now appeared to be owned by a Great Horned Owl! Did the ravens abandon first and then the owls move in? Was this more of an eviction situation? Not to worry– the ravens nested somewhere else. By June, the raven parents were shepherding at least one noisy baby raven around the park entrance.

    Without a way to peer into the owl nest, I couldn’t see any eggs or small chicks. Was this even a nesting attempt, or just a convenient spot for an adult owl to sleep? I knew Great Horned Owls tended to be one of the first birds to start breeding in our area, plus online birding groups were already saturated with photos of fluffy owlets on branches. Shouldn’t I be seeing something? The wait for cute baby owls was excruciating, and I was starting to get worried there was something wrong with the nest. What was going on up there?

    It took almost a month, but I finally saw one pale, unsteady, poorly feathered wing flapping above the lip of the nest. A little later than I expected, but we were still on track. Yes, we were in business! We’ve got an owlet! On my next visit I could see a pair of white round heads in the nest. Subsequent visits seemed to confirm two owlets.

    Unbelievably, my bounty of owlets continued! On a hike deeper into the park I heard a screech from high in a dense row of Cypress that I recognized as a young, hungry Great Horned Owl fledgling.

    …

  • Bird Friendly Chocolate

    By Sharol Nelson-Embry

    If you’ve never tasted single-origin chocolate, stop reading and go find yourself a bar. Each country where cacao is grown, and sometimes even each estate within a country, has its own signature flavor notes due to the mixed result of genetics, terroir, origin, weather and post-harvesting processes like fermentation and roasting. The rich, mostly dark 70% cacao bars are distinctive from each other with flavor notes like fine wines. Over the base of fudge chocolate, various essences rise out of the melting chocolate as you sample it — floral, fruity, herbal, spicy, nutty, earthy — all because of the over 500 naturally occurring flavor compounds found in cacao, not because of any additives. Tasting single-origin chocolate is an adventure for the senses as well as a virtual tour of the tropical world. Cacao is grown only in countries 20 degrees above or below the equator. Native to Central and South America, cacao’s storied history and popularity have carried it around the globe, often to the demise of native people, wildlife and rainforests, though some chocolate makers are changing that now with “Fair Trade” and sustainably grown chocolate.
    Samples of delicious, bird friendly chocolate. Photo courtesy of CocoaCase.
    So what is bird friendly chocolate?
    Recently, I was describing to a friend my efforts to locate special, sustainable chocolate bars to highlight on my company website and online tasting programs. My friend asked if “bird friendly chocolate” meant the product was good for birds to eat! Although that would be interesting, what “bird friendly” actually means is that the chocolate is both shade grown and organic as certified through the Smithsonian Institute. “Shade grown” certification is a designation by the Rainforest Alliance (RA) and is also intended to help protect rainforests and the wildlife within them. These are two common yet different certifications that can be sought by cacao (chocolate) and coffee farmers. The Smithsonian has more rigorous standards than RA. The small-batch, artisanal chocolate makers that I work with usually don’t note if the cacao they use are certified by either institution. Many of the chocolate maker’s sourcing notes give clues, though, that the cacao is sustainably grown and harvested and would meet the criteria of either certification. Read more about certification standards by clicking here.
    Migratory birds by A.E.
    Scientific studies have shown how cacao can be grown in harmony with native rainforest and benefit the birds and other wildlife as well as the provide local people with value for saving the forest and creating income.
    …

  • How Birds and Chocolate Became My Passion

    By Sharol Nelson-Embry

    A rare, endangered songbird flute-like call echoes through a tropical forest with cacao trees bordering on a high elevation pine “cloud forest” in the Dominican Republic. The Bicknell’s Thrush is an international resident, crossing borders to winter in the Zorzal Reserve in the Dominican Republic and travels north annually to nest in spring in hardwood forests on the east coast of the United States and Canada. The cacao harvested from this reserve makes a delicious chocolate treat.

    Bicknell’s Thrush by Dustin Welch

    Two of my passions are birds and chocolate. I retired after 26 wonderful years at the East Bay Regional Park District’s Crab Cove Visitor Center at Crown Beach. I enjoyed educating and entertaining East Bay school kids and families there.

    I led bird walks for the park district and continue to lead them for the Golden Gate Bird Alliance (GGBA). I’m in the process of certification as a Master Birder through GGBA and the California Academy of Science, a one year long intensive study of course work and field trips. I’m now in my second year of the program, doing volunteer work associated with birds.

    One of the highlights of my Master Birder study year was monitoring the Elsie Roemer Bird Sanctuary at Crown Beach twice a month, as well as monitoring one of the Osprey breeding pairs here in Alameda. It was fascinating to watch how the Bird Sanctuary species changed through the seasons with various bird migrations, as well as observe firsthand the growth of the Osprey chick with both parents caring for it.

    The Elsie Roemer Bird Sanctuary in Alameda, California by Richard Wong

    My love of chocolate deepened as I dove into single-origin chocolate — bars that are made from cocoa beans of one area or farm. Cacao trees are native to Central and South America but have been exported to many countries around the globe. They only grow in the tropical band of 20 degrees north and south of the Equator. Each location that grows chocolate has a particular flavor profile due to the terroir of the trees, similar to grapes and wine.

    A skilled chocolate maker enhances those flavor notes in the way they roast the beans and finish the chocolate bar. Chocolate has four basic flavor profiles: floral, fruity, nutty, or fudgy. Nuanced flavors add to the intrigue of tasting single-origin chocolate including flavor notes that change over the course of a single bite melting in your mouth, creating a crescendo of flavors that cascades over your tongue.…

  • Thoughts of Tam

    By Craig Griffeath

    The SF Bay Ospreys nest community mourns the death of 2020 fledgling Tam, aged 76 days. Though brief, his life touched many in ways he could never know, and which his many human supporters are now left to contemplate and celebrate. He leaves behind his parents Rosie and Richmond, along with his two Osprey siblings, and thousands of human followers on sfbayospreys.org.

    Tam emerged from his shell on May 11 and quickly captured the hearts of SF Bay Osprey fans. Alongside his brother Lassen and sister Shasta he was, like his mountain namesake, the smallest and youngest of three. Though plucky and capable of holding his own in confrontation (as when defending a fish from the predations of siblings), he soon learned to adopt a more patient stance, allowing the two older chicks to tire themselves out squabbling before taking his turn to dine in relative peace. Tam grew up knowing what faithful nest watchers had learned in previous years: that mother Rosie, unfailingly even-handed in support of her nestlings, would always make sure he had enough to thrive.

    Collage in memory of Tam by Geonni Banner

    At other times, whatever commotion might be occurring elsewhere on the nest, Tam seemed content to gaze over the edge and observe the world beyond, his family life existing alongside a growing independent identity, an emerging “apart-ness” that would sometimes give him the air of a dreamer. Several watchers saw in him a reflection of 2017’s youngest hatchling Rivet. As a third-born child myself, I felt a particular affinity with Tam and his solitary dreaming. He had a natural underdog status that made him a favorite of webcam viewers during a year when the chemistry among the three nestlings seemed especially promising.

    Longtime followers of the Whirley Crane nest know well that each season brings potential risks as well as rewards.

    We thrill to watching Rosie lay her eggs, and exult to the hatching of the new chicks. We see them grow under their parents’ watchful eyes, and cheer as they learn to fly and then leave home to make their own future. The time of fledging is the most exciting, but also the most dangerous. Tam’s story parallels that of the first webcam fledgling, Whirley, who likewise suffered a mortal injury just one day after fledging in 2017. We grieved the loss of baby Gamma in 2019, and the unexplained demise of 2019 fledgling Peace-Up a few months later.…