Blog Posts Archive - Page 40 of 137 - Golden Gate Bird Alliance

Lessons From A Tree

By Carree M.

Nature is always presenting us with opportunities to learn if we take a moment to fully absorb these gifts. While the Bay Area and many communities are under shelter in place directives, it may seem that we have been completely cut off from nature. That being said, as an avid nature lover and photographer, making a concerted effort to remain indoors is taking a lot of adjustment.

I live in a building with limited outdoor space, save a small patch of grass and one magnificent tree which someone with a whole lot more knowledge helped me identify as a Brush Cherry (Syzygium paniculatum). What is so magnificent about this tree? It attracts multiple species of birds and produces beautiful red berries. It is through this tree that I’ve honed my knowledge of visual and audio bird identification. I appreciate the education even when the birds come calling early in the morning before I had planned to wake up.

Bushtit

Bird Journaling

A few months back, I started a bird journal to take notes on the birds that visit the tree and their behavior. Coincidentally, the pattern on the journal cover resembles tree rings in an abstract way, so that worked out nicely. I also use this journal to record sightings of birds, mammals, etc. when out on trails and walking around my neighborhood. I find this to be a therapeutic tactile experience in this digital world. I now have a record of resident birds and those that stop in for a rest on their seasonal migration. I’ve gotten to “know” the Anna’s Hummingbird who has taken ownership of the window feeder and the House Finch that enjoys stopping by to test out his songs.

Anna’s Hummingbird

Due to the relatively small sample size of the birds who stop in I’ve gotten good at identifying calls and songs to the point of not needing to look outside to see who is out there. I still look though because I can’t say no to that. I know when the Bushtits and Ruby-crowned Kinglet are out there being their spazzy insect-hunting selves. I know when the Cedar Waxwings make their seasonal appearance via flash mobbing the tree as their soft seesaw noise is distinct as well as hearing the telltale “plopping” sounds of dropped berries hitting the ground. Other visitors include: Townsend’s Warblers, Dark-eyed Juncos, Yellow-rumped Warblers, Robins, California Towhees, Scrub Jays, Black Phoebes, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, Mourning Doves, one hawk that I failed to identify that was on the roof of the building next door (major fail on my part and still kicking myself for not looking in time).…

Birding While Sheltered in Place: Reflections

By Kathleen Murphy

My dad was a bird watcher. He could name species without a guide. When he passed, I saw my first blue bird and, of course, like every grieving human would do, I called out, “Dad!” I loved to look at the pictures in his guidebooks, but never had the patience to sit and wait for birds like he did.

Fast forward two years after my dad’s passing: this was the start of my family’s backyard clean up project. We decided that creating as much biodiversity as we could in our backyard was our goal. We were inspired by the film, “The Biggest Little Farm.” We consulted local arborists and landscapers and planted our first round of bird, bee, and butterfly attracting plants.

Western Bluebird by Becky Matsubara

Now, I hear the birds.

More and more I’ve been sitting outside on the weekends and watching their behaviors.

Why don’t they wash in our bird bath? American Robins blend into the plum blossoms. I still don’t know the name of the small, black-headed bird that is the size of a Sparrow. I say tentatively aloud, “Chickadee” but I’m not sure. My dad would know.

American Robin by Mark Heatherington

About two months ago, I watched a hummingbird sitting so still on the very top of a bare branch. The hummingbird disappeared but I was still able to hear her. After nearly half an hour, I heard her singing as she left the branch; then she’d returned. She was circling and circling in the same pattern. As I watched her, I noted for the first time the behavior of this bird. She eventually flew away but left me with an understanding of what I had been missing up until that moment.

Anna’s Hummingbird by Edmund Wu

Last month, I saw a pair of birds that looked like the common Mourning Doves. As I observed, I realized these birds seemed very different. I swear, this bird had a long beak! I got up close to the window to watch. This particular bird had striped marks on her back and a body that was slightly bigger than a normal Mourning Dove.

This bird was something different and new; maybe a lost shorebird, though we’re miles from the Bay.

I work at a local school with a living lab managed by naturalists and scientists whom I admire. I asked our bird expert about what species this odd mix of dove and shorebird could be.…

Add Birding To Your Social Distancing Routine

By Alex Smolyanskaya

The coronavirus situation is developing rapidly, with frequent changes to government guidelines. Check local sources for updates before leaving your home.

Folks all over the Bay Area woke up last Tuesday under orders to shelter in place, with exceptions for essential trips. Fortunately, San Francisco guidelines state that outdoor activities on foot, bike, and even in a car are acceptable, even essential, for those at lower risk for complications, provided we practice social distancing.

If you’re new to spending frequent idle time outdoors, you may be wondering, what do I do out there? Sure, walking is nice, but some of us need #goals.

Enter birdwatching. No organized groups, gear, or travel required.

Nerdy hobby no more, birding (birds, verbed) is a way to connect to our environment and disengage from the anxiety-heightening stream of alerts, pings, and texts. Many find it meditative, with time spent outdoors having measurable benefits to those feeling isolated and lonely. At least one very biased source asserts that it’s the perfect activity for this time of social distancing.

As a paranoid pregnant person who has been social-distancing at home for over three weeks, I have found very needed respite in birding while roaming my neighborhood and local parks.

Brown Creeper in Glen Canyon Park in San Francisco

In my time organizing and leading walks for Golden Gate Bird Alliance and the San Francisco Feminist Bird Club, I’ve learned that most people do not identify with pop culture portrayals of competitive goofy mostly-dudes trying to hectically one up each other on how many bird species they can spot in an arbitrary amount of time.

Instead, most of us actually enjoy slowing down to observe common birds doing their thing — it’s the start of breeding season in the Bay Area, and that means birds at their most sexy… don’t you want to know? We enjoy seeing birds gather at yard feeders, the pleasure identifying any bird by sight or sound, or giving a nod to the daily pigeons and blackbirds who share our urban routines.

A pigeon (aka Rock Dove) with a stick… what will it be for?

It’s your rules — you don’t have to identify any of the birds you find, you can give them whatever names you want, you don’t have to care about how many birds you saw, you don’t have to post your wins on social media, and you usually don’t need to go far from home.…

Meditations in an Emergency

By Melissa Ramos

I have been taking more walks lately. On these walks, I notice I am seeing much more than I did before this crisis. What I witness and hear, smell and feel are lovely distractions. There is wind, there is the intermittent heat of the sun before it disappears into a throng of clouds. There are budding and blooming flowers in dazzling colors. There are the birds, their singing and calls interspersed with the typical quiet of this suburb. I have seen all sorts of birds lately, some of the same, some new. Straggling ducks zooming through the skies; two House Finches who seem to be contemplating whether my porch would make a good nest site; a noisy Bewick’s Wren that’s taken up residence in a tiny birdhouse my partner placed in a nearby bush; a gaggle of Cedar Waxwings munching on berries of a tall tree; the countless unidentified sparrows and California Towhees who rake up bugs in the garden with the smallest scrapes of their feet. Every evening before dusk, I hear the same record-like call of a Northern Mockingbird. She balances at the top of a utility pole in our backyard to chant her litany of imitations. I listen to her recitation now as reassurance of nature’s endurance.

Northern Mockingbird by Gary Marshall

Several weeks ago, long before these daily undulations of panic, my partner and I placed a hummingbird feeder on our porch. We sat by our kitchen window, mostly in the mornings before work, to watch and take a snapshot in our minds of a tiny Anna’s Hummingbird who declared this feeder his. When we’d walk outside to the car, when we’d step out the front door for fresh air, or any time we’d stroll in the garden, we could hear this particular bird’s chirping, his cries echoing in the neighborhood. He did not seem to be calling for any other bird in particular, but instead seemed intent on announcing his presence to others. He once stabbed another male Anna’s in the throat or chest (this happened too quickly for me to gather the precise details). When I blinked, the tiny victim of his anger plopped at my feet, breathing heavily and dazed. Our feeder-guardian hummingbird reemerged, flying around his food proudly. He was victorious, chirping at me as though he expected some congratulation. So we named him Bee after the buzzing, whirring sounds he greets us with every time we go outside.…

Shelter-in-Place Birding

By David Rice

I had planned to take my family this winter to see (and hear!) the cranes on Woodbridge Road near Lodi: arrive in mid-afternoon, watch some cranes feeding in the fields, and wait for dusk to bring the vocalizing flocks, silhouetted against the sunset. But the combination of crawl-space decluttering and inertia stopped me, and now we can’t go. It’s early spring, the cranes are leaving, and we’re sheltering-in-place.

Sandhill Crane in flight by Simon Sobart

The GGBA field trip to look and listen for birds in the mountains near the Santa Clara/Santa Cruz County border? I signed up this year, after not signing up last year, but the trip’s cancelled. Shelter-in-place.

Knowing the cranes are there, even if I missed them, is reassuring. Knowing GGBA is here is reassuring; I’ll donate the money. But missing the pleasures and comforts these birding outings would have given me—that birding always gives me—got me thinking about how I think and feel about birding.

Although I know that birding is part of who I am, although I dream about birds—and really should have kept a life list of my dream birds; would it be more than thirty now?—maybe I have underestimated how important birds are to me. As the old song goes, “You don’t miss your water ’til the well runs dry.” We know about the ongoing decline of many bird species, of course, but “shelter-in-place” brings home to me how much I count on being able to go birding, even if I don’t or can’t go sometimes. Maybe, by assuming I can go birding wherever and whenever I choose, I’ve taken birds for granted and now, when I can’t, I see even more clearly how much I value them.

Ring-billed Gull by Daniel Cadieux

Which brings me to the gulls that arrive every morning to feed at the grassy area inside the local junior high school track where I walk. I’ve seen them eating worms, and there must be other protein sources as well in the well-watered grass, because they are always there. (Mainly Ring-billed Gulls, some California Gulls, saw a first-year Herring Gull once.) I stopped the other day and just watched them. I wanted to paint the adult Ring-billed Gull’s pristine light gray/black wing tips breeding plumage.

There is something calming about gazing at a bird for more than a brief identifying-second. The scientists who study meditators should study birders.…