by Janice Bressler
Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in the Richmond ReView/Sunset Beacon August 7, 2018
Bird watchers from all over California have been flocking to the Outer Richmond District this summer, hoping to spot a Parakeet Auklet – a little seabird that spends this time of year breeding on the rocky shorelines and islands around Alaska. Why are birders looking in this western district of San Francisco for a bird that should be in Alaska now? Are these people mixed up?
No, this particular bird is.
The Parakeet Auklet being stalked and sighted at Lands End this summer, and much talked about in local birding circles, is what is known as a “vagrant” bird, or “one that has strayed a long way from its expected breeding or migrating range,” according to Bay Area ornithologist John Sterling, who has worked for the Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center in Washington D.C. and now heads an environmental consulting and guide company in the Bay Area.
Bird watching enthusiasts from around the state have been going to Lands End to see a wayward parakeet auklet. Courtesy photo.
Sterling said there are different conditions that can explain vagrancy in groups of birds and various theories for why an individual bird might become vagrant. In a non-scientific aside he added, “I have to say that this bird staying here in San Francisco at this time of year is pretty weird.”
One of the vagrant auklet’s favorite places in San Francisco appears to be Hermit Rock, a craggy rectangular boulder that rises just off the shore below the part of the Lands End trail known as Mile Rock Overlook. That is where most of the birders who have posted sightings of the auklet say they have seen the bird.
Sterling recently came to Lands End to try to catch a glimpse of the bird, and not only made a sighting, but managed to take several photographs of the bird in the water. When he first arrived and stationed himself at Mile Rock Overlook, there were already seven or eight other birders there, scanning the rocks and water below.

Ever since a sighting of the bird was first posted this year on July 9, birders have come daily not only from in town, but from cities all over the state. Scores of birders have come long distances, day after day, and waited for hours for a chance to see the auklet.…

By Taylor Crisologo
The air was cool and crisp. It was just before sunrise, so you could begin to see swatches of color painting the sky. On the horizon, the twisting curves of the mountains were beginning to be illuminated. We were the only ones awake at this hour in the small motel. Our bags packed, we walked outside into the dawn.
I’ve been a birder since my first months in college. There, I discovered a community of people that were just as in love with nature as I was. I reveled in studying new field guides and visiting new places with unfamiliar habitats to discover and explore. Thus, my journey as a birder and conservation devotee led me to Pinnacles National Park this February morning to look for California condors.
With wingspans over 9 feet, the California condor is North America’s largest bird. As scavengers, they rely on animals that are already dead for food. But the food that they scavenge is not always safe: hunters often use lead ammunition, resulting in carrion that is lead-tainted. Condors that eat carrion such as this are subject to the effects of lead poisoning, which ultimately leads to death.
Photo by Richard Neidhardt
Lead poisoning and other threats (such as habitat loss and hunting) resulted in only 22 wild birds remaining in 1982. As lead poisoning threatened to kill the few wild condors left, efforts were mobilized to capture the last individuals in the wild for captive breeding programs. Since the last wild condor was captured in 1987, the species has been slowly increasing in numbers. Today, there are over 440 individuals total, both in captivity and released into the wild.
We drove slowly through the entrance of the park, arriving just as they opened the gates. Pulling into a spot in a nearly-empty lot, we grabbed our packs and set off on the trail. I clutched my binoculars nervously, fidgeting with the focus. We headed slowly down the path, our necks craned up to scan the skies. Turkey vulture. Red-tailed hawk. Two turkey vultures.
We had only been on the trail for 15 minutes when Dan grabbed my arm. “Large white wing patches”, he breathed with one hand still firmly on his binoculars. My hands shot to my own binoculars, bringing them quickly up to the sky to look up at the same area. There they were. Two individuals soared gracefully, illuminated by the morning light.…

by Leslie Storer

The Oakland Zoo has just opened California Trail, a series of habitats featuring species that are currently or were once found in California. This is a theme near and dear to my heart. My career path found me interpreting wild animals from around the world to zoo guests. The whole time I asked myself, ‘What about the species in our backyard?’

California Trail is home to black bears, brown bears, jaguars, mountain lions, bison, gray wolves, California condors, and bald eagles.

I am proud to be associated with this project as an animal care staff member, because of the emphasis on rescued individuals and the ties with conservation partners. There’s another reason I’m especially excited about this project, but that’s a surprise.

California Condor Program Information

The California condor program is a prime example of the direction modern zoos are going. The two males in the condor habitat were hatched at other zoos and are members of the breeding population, which means they will live in Oakland until duty calls. What guests do not see (unless they are watching the webcam) are any condors that may be at our condor recovery center. We work with field biologists at Pinnacles National Monument and Ventana Wildlife Society in Big Sur who are monitoring wild individuals for lead poisoning. If the biologists discover an individual suffering from lead poisoning, the bird is transported to the Oakland Zoo where several staff members, myself included, are specially trained to handle and treat them. While guests marvel at the North America’s largest flying bird, they also learn about their conservation story: from 22 birds to over 400, more than half of whom are in the wild today.

Native Bird Information

Leslie Storer is a GGBA Board Member who started developing her passion for birds at the age of twelve as a volunteer at the San Francisco Zoo. She is currently an animal care manager at the Oakland Zoo, where she is part of the team of people specially trained to treat wild California condors for lead toxicity.

Raptors in our own backyard…

By Joe Galkowski

The ghost owl, death owl, white owl, monkey-faced owl, church owl, and my favorite: the hobgoblin owl, these are just a small selection of the common names used for barn owls. The Latin name for the species is Tyto Alba which simply means white owl. Seems like an appropriate moniker, so why so many other names for the world’s most common owl? Most likely their nocturnal nature, eerie calls, white feathering, and completely silent flight, inspired men to create myths and legends of the barn owl’s connections with death and the afterlife and those stories have led to the different names being adopted.

The Native Americans who lived in what is now Yosemite National Park, believed that if a warrior lived life without honor, that after death, he would return to earth as a barn owl. If, however, he lived a good life, with integrity and courage, he would come back as a great horned owl. As a person who spends a fair amount of time with both species, I can say that great horned owls do seem braver around people and they are tougher birds. That said, barn owls have always been my favorite.

Female Barn Owl nesting in Oak cavity by Joe Galkowski.

This Spring, I enjoyed watching a barn owl nest that was in a large cavity of an old oak tree. When the nest was first discovered, the female was incubating eggs. At least five of them successfully hatched. Later, we marveled at how her five owlets cuddled together on cold mornings, shared food, and even occasionally groomed each other.

Barn Owl family by Joe Galkowski

Barn owl young hatch over a period of a few weeks so there are dramatically different size owlets in a barn owl nest. I knew that the moms leave the nest when the youngest owlet is able to self-regulate their own body heat, but I did not expect to see the older owlets taking care of the younger ones. Notice the difference in maturity levels. Also, the monkey-faced owl name makes sense to me when looking at the owlets.

Owlets by Joe Galkowski

Barn owls are one of the most widely distributed birds on the planet. They live on every continent except Antarctica. They also often live in close proximity to people, sometimes nesting in man-made structures such as, well… barns, hence the currently accepted name.  It should be clear though, that no matter what name you use for these wonderful birds, seeing one is a true gift.…

By Eric Schroeder

The first afternoon of the Golden Gate Bird Alliance class on Birds of the Sierra was going well. The twenty-one class members along with co-leaders Bob Lewis and Eddie Bartley and Eddie’s partner, Noreen Weeden, had assembled at Yuba Pass and began birding immediately. The first bird we saw was a Cassin’s Finch—a common enough bird for many birders, but a new one for me. Twenty minutes later Bob and Eddie identified one of those very pesky Empidonaxes, the Dusky Flycatcher, another first for me.

Great birds just kept coming: Mountain Chickadees, a Red-breasted Sapsucker, two White-headed Woodpeckers. Things got even more interesting in the final fifteen minutes with the sighting of two Evening Grosbeaks—again a new species for me. As we were turning to head back to the cars, I looked overhead and saw a raptor, an accipiter, I thought. I called it out to the group and Bob and Eddie were on it quickly. After a brief conference they concluded it was a Northern Goshawk, which Sibley Birds West describes as “rare.” For me, however, it wasn’t just rare, it was also new.

Birds of the Sierra class, by Noreen Weeden

GGBA’s Sierra birding class had been on my radar for a couple of years. Each time I considered registering for it, however, the timing wasn’t quite right. Furthermore, I had heard that this class was very popular. This year I planned ahead, blocking off the time on my calendar months in advance. And on the day the class went on sale at 10 AM, I was ready—at my computer, with the GGBA webpage open. As the clock struck the hour, I hit “submit”; later that day I received the confirmation email that I was in. Now all I had to do was arrange a place to stay since I remembered that Bob had said housing could be hard to find in the Sierra Valley area. He had recommended the Canyon Ranch Resort near Sierraville, the most central location for the area we’d be exploring—northern Sierra county and southern Plumas country.

When I got Carla on the phone later that day, she told me she only had one cabin left. “I’ll take it,” I said. She told me it was her two-bedroom unit. “I’ll take it,” I said. She seemed skeptical but took my credit card information and said the cabin was mine. Luckily for me, Bob put out the word that I had room to spare.…