• Mount Sutro Open Space Reserve: An Oasis in SF

    By Whitney Grover

     

    There’s something magical about stepping off a concrete sidewalk and onto a dirt path. The claustrophobic buildings are replaced by comforting trees. Car alarms and ambulance sirens are replaced by singing robins and the soft chips of sparrows.  The Mount Sutro Open Space Reserve is one of these places, a green oasis in the heart of the cool grey city. But in truth, there’s very little that is “natural” about what we see today on the Mountain. Jutting up to a 909 foot elevation, the Mountain is comprised mainly of chert, which you can see exposed in several areas along the trails. Before European settlers arrived, developing and foresting the area, the vegetation was likely native grasses and coastal scrub habitat. The enormous grassy hill was surely quite a sight, visible from far and wide.

    Mount Sutro by Whitney Grover

    But today Mount Sutro is a forest, densely packed eucalyptus trees form a thick canopy. Invasive ivy and blackberry carpet the understory. Beginning in 1886, Adolf Sutro began foresting the area, he intended to use the fast growing Australian eucalyptus for lumber, but the particular variety turned out to be poor for logging. Over the decades, some of the trees were harvested, and the surrounding areas were cleared and developed. But the steep slopes of Mount Sutro were left with this foreign flora. Eventually, the land was acquired by the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF), whose Parnassus campus sits at the North foot of the Mountain.

    Pacific Wren by Mick Thompson

    The birds we find on the Mountain today are ones you would expect in a forest habitat: Pacific Wren, Thrushes, Song Sparrow, Woodpeckers, Pygmy Nuthatches and Steller’s Jays. Although the majority of the plants are invasive and non-native, there are at least 74 native plant species found throughout the Mountain including California bay laurel, several native fern species, red elderberry, poison oak, and others. In the early 2000s, the summit was restored to a native plant garden, funded by the Rotary club and executed by The Sutro Stewards. The Sutro Stewards work tirelessly to remove the invasive understory plants and replace them with natives. They run a native plant nursery, maintain the trails, and organize volunteers to these efforts.

    And now a new chapter is unfolding.

    Pygmy Nuthatch by Doug Greenberg

    After a decade long process shaped by public comment, EIRs, committees of experts, and no shortage of drama, UCSF has published a Vegetative Management Plan which outlines a 20-year restoration plan for the Mountain.…

  • House Listing near Corona Heights under Coronavirus Restrictions

    By Brian Fitch

     

    For many years now, I’ve been compiling a list of bird species that I’ve seen from my home near Corona Heights Park in San Francisco. It’s not technically a “yard list,” partly because I live in a third story flat, with no deck or yard space at all, and partly because I count anything I can see, even in the distance.  When I’m home, I usually watch birds during brief breaks from other activities, from one of several windows, and rarely from the front stoop. I’ve been putting off bolstering this list until I’m too old to head out into the field much, but here we are with the coronavirus, and I’m staying home much more than I’d like to.

    And it’s now April.

    My only shelter-in-place worthy outdoor space is my flat roof, so on the 1st of the month, I retrieved the ladder from the basement and climbed up. I have done sky watches here before, but it’s not my favorite locale for many reasons, not least of which is the three-story drop with no railings. And with views only to the west and east, migrants heading north or south can be frustrating, as too often a bird will flash by me so quickly that there’s no way to tell what it is.  I have to specialize in high-flying things that allow me at least a few seconds to work through the ID.

    Sharp-shinned Hawk by Sandy Paiement

    The westerly wind off of the Pacific wasn’t the best for channeling migrants to my neighborhood, east winds are better, but the clear sky let me see what was passing over.

    Highlights from the April 1st included six Turkey Vultures, a Sharp-shinned Hawk, and a White-throated Swift flying among Violet-green Swallows. 21 species in total between 11 am and 1 pm. Dominant in the sky over SF are the ravens, growing in number every year, and Anna’s Hummingbirds appear daily regardless of any weather conditions. Beyond those two givens, there are 20-30 regular species I can see in a week, many more that pass through in migration, and then there are the special species that appear rarely, or only once (so far).

    White-throated Swift by Jerry Ting

    With such a singular viewpoint in the heart of a dense city, but also on the Pacific Flyway, my list is rather odd. I’ve never seen a Brown Creeper or a Tree Swallow, and just got my first Warbling Vireo last fall, after 30 years of living here.…

  • You Never Know Who Might Show Up On Your Doorstep One Morning

    By Elliot Janca

     

     

    Editor’s Note: Elliot is one of GGBA’s youngest birders. Before our Birdathon postponement, Elliot was an active participant in our Young Birders Contest, where he helped fundraise on behalf of GGBA while promoting his love of birding. Even during difficult times like these, we can all find inspiration in Elliot’s passion for birds and nature. In this piece, Elliot explores his connections to nature and implores us to take care of our beloved birds.

     

    Falling in Love with Birds

     

    The wind was sharp, there was a dense fog in the air, all the fathomable elements to create a deep chill that seeped through the thick layers of warm clothing we had on, and yet, that was the day I fell in love with birds.

    The morning may have been bleak, but as the sun came out, so did the birds. I don’t know what sparked it on that Christmas Bird Count in Monterey Bay. Before that, I had gone on many birding outings, yet hadn’t found much of a connection with them.  Maybe it was witnessing a Red-breasted Sapsucker high up in the trees of Crocker Grove, or the multicolored flamboyant Harlequin Duck out in the water of Stillwater Cove, or maybe it was just them, the birds in their entirety.

    Harlequin Duck by Isaac Grant

    Since then, my life has changed.

     

    Protecting Nature, Protecting Birds

     

    All family vacations are now planned with birds in mind, if not the primary goal.  I recently was lucky enough to go to South Korea and Palawan Island, in the Philippines.  The beauty of the birds there shocked me, but what shocked me further was their behavior. In Korea, you couldn’t get within 100 yards of a flock of large foraging birds, usually egrets or spoonbills, before most of them decided it was unsafe and flew off!

    However, Yubudo Island, at the mouth of the Geum Estuary, showed man-made devastation.

    It is a significant estuary along South Korea’s Yellow Sea coastline and is a critical feeding stop on the migration route of shorebirds.  The coast of the Yellow Sea used to have many such tidal mudflats, where sandpipers and plovers would gather in the masses to roost and feed.  Now Geum Estuary is one of the last undammed estuaries, yet is already being destroyed. The thing that killed the others has not taken as much of a toll on Yubudo (walling off bays to create more industrial and agricultural space); instead, there is plastic ruining it. …

  • A Walk in Our Redwoods

    By Miles and Teresa Tuffli

     

    We’re always attuned to the bird activity at our house, but since our beloved pup died this past October, it’s been hard to take long walks in the surrounding woods without our boy. But, needing to stay near home and away from others, we’ve mustered up the nerve to face bittersweet reminders and start exploring again.

    Just a short walk from our front door is a county fire road that winds through the mixed evergreen forest. We very rarely cross paths with anyone up there, so it fits the bill perfectly for getting a dose of nature while practicing social isolation.

    Though everyday human life has drastically changed, we find it incredibly therapeutic to witness the natural world persisting on. The wren still sings, the hummingbird still buzzes, and the jay still hunkers down in its nest. The flowers still bloom, the river still flows, and the new generation of maple leaves still pushes out to the light. If a silver lining exists in the COVID-19 pandemic, perhaps it’s that the natural world may receive a break from relentless human activity.

    During this shutdown, we invite you along on a virtual exploration of the birds and flora of the redwoods.

    Let’s start with a recent discovery from our house.

    Stellar’s Jay beginning a nest

    Actually, calling it a “discovery” is a stretch since the nest sits at eye-level from our living room, just feet from our window – hard to miss! Now that “shelter-in-place” is firmly entrenched in our lexicon, the promise of watching this Steller’s Jay pair from our couch – hopefully raising a successful brood – feels like a timely stroke of luck!

    Bringing more material, while its mate arranges twigs in the nest

    Each time the pair interacted at the nest, they chattered quietly. Steller’s Jays constantly amaze us with their wide repertoire of vocalizations – check out our post.

     

    https://goldengatebirdalliance.org/wp-content/uploads/1-Stellers-Jay.wav

     

    For a couple days now, one has been sitting in the nest off and on. We’re excited to see how this unfolds!

    Stellar’s Jay

    The hummingbirds have been very active, with multiple species zipping around nearby feeders. This male was considerably orange, but had a bit of green speckled on his back, so we’re uncertain if he’s an Allen’s or Rufous.

    Allen’s or Rufous Hummingbird

    Yesterday, a fully orange-backed Rufous male appeared, and began chasing all others in the vicinity – listen to him below.…

  • Breakfast with Towhees, Lunch with Finches

    By Kseniya Tuchinskaya

     

    The world is upside down but the House Finches outside my window don’t know this. Every morning, I eat breakfast in our kitchen nook, which looks onto my neighbors’ overgrown fence. And every morning, the finches show up to keep me company. I love seeing their bright red heads bob between the purple flowers and fresh green leaves. I love their cheerful song. My binoculars stay at the ready on the empty chair next to me as I sip my tea.

    I worry that one day, my neighbors will catch me with my leopard-print bathrobe and binoculars, staring intently through the window. It’s a strange time, so I hope they’ll allow me this eccentricity. 

    House Finch by Rocky T.

    Now that I am working from home, I have become very familiar with the rhythms of our local birds. In fact, I know them better than any neighbors I’ve ever had. Because there’s no need to catch a train to the city, I wake up without an alarm. Instead, the first sound I hear is the Bewick’s Wren chittering in the yard over. Sometimes, the resident Scrub Jay joins in as well, which is a clear sign it’s time to get up and make my morning tea. 

    Bewick’s Wren by Aurora Santiago

    There’s the pair of resident California Towhees, rummaging around our cars in the driveway (I see them every day, and I am convinced that soon I’ll be able to recognize them by face alone).

    There’s the female Anna’s Hummingbird who comes around in the morning, without fail, and sits on her favorite skinny branch, preening. She visits at sunset, too. I like to think she’s enjoying the pink sky after a long day of flying and foraging.  I see this hummingbird so frequently that I have asked my husband to help me brainstorm a name for her (suggestions, readers?).

    Female Anna’s Hummingbird by Aurora Santiago

    Sometimes, I’ll catch a glimpse of the Bushtits as they bounce around on their morning rounds. White-crowned and very round Golden-crowned Sparrows take their turn as well, if the finches are away.

    I am not used to spending this much time inside my house, or within 2 miles of it. I’ve known my neighborhood only in relation to myself as a human, but I’ve been discovering that it’s a bird neighborhood, too. If I pass a certain tree on my block near sunset, there is sure to be a an American Robin in it, singing its evening notes.…