Bird Nerding, Plus Reptiles

I'm at the tail-end of a week off, feeling more or less refreshed and ready to head back to work. This reminds me of a recent article I read that suggests that the optimal number of work days per week for someone my age is three. It's a good thing that I don't really consider my job work. That said, it is a time commitment, which in some ways amounts to the same thing.

I spent the week of walking near the shores of the South Bay, plus one day trip down to Pinnacles National Park with Jeanine. The focus of these jaunts was photographing birds, and I managed to spot seven species I hadn't yet seen in the wild, and get better photographs of a few others.

First was a Redhead, hanging out with some Mallards at Sunnyvale Baylands.

Second was a Common Gallinule, slopping through the mud at Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge.

Close on the heels of this sighting were birds three and four, the Cinnamon Teal and the Blue-winged Teal, conveniently hanging out together.

Number five was a Surf Scoter, who didn't cooperate well enough for me to get an acceptable photo. Here's an unacceptable one:

Number six was an American Pipit, somewhere between Shoreline Park in Mountain View and Palo Alto Baylands.

Last, and certainly not least, was a bird I've been wanting to see in the wild since I was a kid, the California Condor. Seeing one was the main reason we went to Pinnacles, with is a drive of about an hour and a half each way. Add to that a six mile hike with around 1500 feet elevation gain, and it became a bit of an epic quest. On the way up the hill, we noticed that the reptiles were out. In mid-February, one doesn't expect temperatures in the seventies and basking reptiles, but we saw three species: Western Fence Lizard, Western Side-blotched Lizard, and Pacific Gopher snake.

After this, we briefly talked with a hiker who said that he'd been hiking the Pinnacles for 20 years and had never seen a Condor. Around half an hour after that, we saw two Condors. I guess Mr. Hiker doesn't often look up. Most Condors have numbered tags affixed to their wings, making them easy to spot when they're around. Our first encounter was with number 868, who was gliding with (and dwarfing) several Turkey Vultures. A little later on, we were repeatedly circled by number 340, who I found out later on actually has a given name, Kun-Wac-Shun (meaning Thunder and Lightning). He was named by Chief Nelson Wallulutem of the Wasco tribe, from the Columbia River region. More information is available here.

I remember being a kid and learning that there were only 27 California Condors left in the world. I think the information might have come to me by way of an endangered species coloring book. It is heartening to know that as of 2018, there were 488 of them, with 312 in the wild. They are still vulnerable to human factors like lead poisoning (after all, over 1000 chicks have been born since conservation efforts began, but fewer than half that many are currently alive), although a California law banning lead bullets went into effect last year. As is always the case, conservationists have to work all that much harder to compensate for the people who can't be bothered.

Kentucky

Twist and Shout is an annual convention geared toward balloon artists. This year, it was held in Kentucky, a state I'd never previously visited. Hell, it's known for fried chicken, bourbon, baseball and, according to one of our Uber drivers, bad roads. Nothing to see here, at least for a vegetarian non-drinker who has no interest in sportsball. Add to that, it's where Mitch McConnell lurks, and you have a recipe for avoidance.

I'm always open for new experiences though. Jeanine and Eva left for the convention on Tuesday, and after more or less completing my work week, I followed on Friday.

I used to take a travel journal with me whenever I flew anywhere, a habit that has since fallen to the shoulder of the hectic freeway of life. For this trip, I attempted to resurrect it. I completed one journal entry sometime on Saturday:

Out the window, barren trees reach for a gray sky. They border the parking lot of the Crowne Plaza hotel. Beyond them is the freeway. I'm not sure which one.

Around half an hour ago, feather-light drifts of snow danced down, seeming to dart anxiously, as if afraid of the beckoning blacktop.

I'm at the Twist and Shout convention in Louisville, KY. First time in this state. Umpteenth time at Twist and Shout. I elected not to pay the $145 for a day pass, and instead have been reading and wandering. I went out to look for birds earlier, but didn't see anything I haven't also seen in California - Robins, Starlings, Northern Mockingbird, Song Sparrows, Mourning Doves, and perhaps some Golden-crowned Sparrows (who flew away as if McConnell himself was after them). There was a large raptor in the aforementioned trees this morning, but I only saw it through the hotel window and, as if it felt my gaze upon it, it swooped down and away.

Eva woke up recently, probably around 3:30 or so, got ready, and left to see if any of her friends were awake yet. She stayed up all night, reporting that it was snowing heavily at 6:00 AM. Jeanine and I had a late breakfast this morning, buffet style. The waitress was talkative and friendly, complaining about being forced to take breaks.

Yesterday, my trip was uneventful (Jeanine and Eva got here on Tuesday, but I worked through Thursday), although there was a 45 minute delay at Midway as airline employees struggled to find a passenger's wayward luggage. I arrived around midnight and joined Jeanine in the jam room. At this point, I recognize a lot of people at these conventions, but Jeanine says there are definitely a lot of new faces this year.

Tonight is the gala banquet. In the meantime, I think I'll go back outside and wander around. Being in the jam room would be fun too, but perhaps not $145 fun.

Tomorrow, after the convention ends, we're going to go explore.

The gala banquet featured an excellent vegetarian option in the form of a pastry shell stuffed with tomatoes, leafy greens, and feta cheese. The entertainment was of the usual high quality, but there seemed to be less of it this year. I got a chance to see the competition pieces, especially enjoying the Alien versus Predator and the Ghost Rider pieces. But then again I would. At the end of it all, they announced that next year's convention was going to be held in Reykjavik. Just kidding. Southern California.

Explore we did. After another buffet-style hotel breakfast (this time the "special" eggs didn't have bacon in them. Yay!), we set out for Cave Hill Cemetery, eternal home of Col. Sanders and Muhammad Ali, as well as lots of other dead people. I brought along my camera. I didn't feel like lugging my 600mm lens with me, so made do with a 300mm one instead, which is like the old one I broke last year, except that it likes giving me "lens error" messages, especially when I'm trying to take pictures of nervous birds.

Never let it be said that the goose family plot goes unvisited.

The cemetery was a vast expanse of greenery, pockmarked by monuments of all sizes and descriptions. We set out without a map, pausing to admire various striking markers and sculptures. The first birds I saw were Canada Geese, and then a very cooperative Cooper's Hawk. I would have gotten some excellent photos if I'd bothered to bring the right lens for the job.

Eventually, we found some birds we couldn't see at home. Cardinals! The first one I saw was a female, but then Jeanine spotted a patch of red in a a tree near the pond. I took some poor photos.

We found Muhammad Ali before we found the Colonel. His grave site features a depression into which people have through coins. Not sure why. After a longish walk to the other side of the cemetery, we found the Colonel. There was another cardinal near his grave.

Winding our way back to the entrance, we planned our next move. There was a vegan restaurant that came highly recommended by a variety of non-vegans, so we figured we'd give it a go. Upon arrival, we discovered it was closed on Sunday. Fortunately, the record store across the street wasn't. I ended up buying a Steeleye Span cd, mostly because it was cheap and because I always try to support record stores.

Back at the hotel, we joined a number of other convention-goers for a trip to a nearby restaurant for the traditional non-latex dinner (during which people who mention balloons have to contribute money to a jar which goes toward tipping the wait-staff). I got a jalapeno and onion pizza, which was long in coming due to the fact that were ended up being a party of 40 plus.

Then it was back to the hotel. We flew out together in the morning.

Eva made her first balloon dress during the convention. I made a tardigrade. Jeanine made lots of stuff, being that she is the professional in our family. She placed third in this year's Broken Balloon Pump competition. She also finally has her own trading card.

Currently listening to: Panopticon "Kentucky" (of course)

Lunch, Then Birds

I can hear wind in the eaves, along with the rustling sound of tree branches waving back and forth with wild abandon. Clouds are taking over the sky with a calm relentlessness. There is no substantial chance of rain in the forecast, but it feels like a storm is coming.

Yesterday was springlike. Scooby is in town this weekend, so a bunch of past and present camp staff met for lunch at Aqui in Cupertino. I realized that there were more past staff than present ones, with only Superfly and myself representing current staff (sure, we see Raven, Bat, and Badger occasionally, but only as subs). It was like a family reunion, and it was great to catch up with ex-staff members whom I hadn't seen in awhile. I miss them all. Earlier in the week, a new staff member who hadn't met Scooby was wondering what the big deal was. Thinking about a succinct way to explain Scooby only took me a few seconds. He's the Mr.Rogers of outdoor ed. Something special left our program when he retired.

Afterward, I wandered around the nearby Fremont Older Open Space Preserve. My goal was to photograph a California Thrasher, but when I went to where I'd last seen one, I only heard it. It must have known I'd have my camera with me this time.

I did get some photos of other birds though.

Yellow-rumped Warblers were everywhere.



Mammals were represented by a lone Merriam's chipmunk and a trio of Brush rabbits. This is rabbit number three.



I like this one for its mysterious gloominess. It's a robin, by the way.



On the way back to my car, on the tree that had contained a pair of ravens earlier, was a Cooper's Hawk. At first I thought I might finally have come across s Sharp-shinned hawk (I have distant photos of flying ones, but no close-ups), but after reviewing the photos, I concluded that it was a Cooper's. By that time, we were in the shadow of the hill I had just descended, so I had to digitally manipulate the photos a bit to bring out detail.



Another photo that I like for its overall atmosphere. I may just well be the most apocalyptic photo of House Finches ever. My phone app. had earlier warned of diminishing air quality, and it definitely showed. The colors were brought out by running the photo through Lightroom's dehazer.



My work week held no surprises. Lately, my routine has been to arrive early and take photos of birds. The Red Crossbills were back again, bustling about in a tight flock and continuing their quest to denude all of the conifers of their seeds. The kids were middle schoolers, but I had a relatively well-behaved group. I didn't do anything that deviated from my usual teaching routine either.

I did get some funny crossbill photos though, including this one: