Natural History Journal

Winter may be a cold and dreary time of year across most of North America, when trees are bare and skies are gray, but here in California's Great Central Valley, winter is an excellent time for birding and exploring the woods and wetlands close to home.  Because despite the cold, the birds are out there in abundance! Last week, while birding at the San Joaquin River National Wildlife Refuge, I was delighted to encounter quite a few Blue-gray Gnatcatchers out and about along the trail.  These little dynamos were out in force all day, calling emphatically from the shrubby growth as they flitted actively from twig to twig. Blue-gray Gnatcatcher These little birds' small size (they're only about four inches long), active habits and predilection for staying deep in their shrubby habitat can make them difficult to get good looks at, much less photograph!  (Just take a look at how unsuccessful I have been in the past !)  But this guy was pretty cooperative, moving about and...

A world set apart.  The Galapagos of California.  Ancestral home of the Chumash people.   Located some 25 miles off the coast of Southern California, the archipelago of eight islands that collectively make up the Channel Islands have been called many things throughout their ancient history. But for birders across the globe, one of the islands in particular is known as the home of the world's only population of one very special inhabitant: the Island Scrub-Jay.  Island Scrub-Jay Santa Cruz Island, the largest and northernmost of the Channel Islands, measures approximately 24 miles long by 6 miles wide.  Yet this windswept rock, rising from the Pacific and riven by canyons and creeks, has given rise to a rich assemblage of plant communities, from grasslands to coastal sage scrub and chaparral.  Sheltered canyons hide stands of oak woodland and, perhaps surprisingly - owing to a long history of European settlement and ranching - groves of eucalyptus trees...

There is a spot, not too far from here, where a lazy brown river once meandered sleepily across an oak-studded grassland, swelling with spring snowmelt to flood vast freshwater marshes with life-giving water.   The natural seasonal rhythms of that once-wild river have been massively altered in the last century, its flood stemmed by upstream dams as agricultural development took hold on the fertile floodplains and now-dry oxbows.  With the water went the ecosystems it supported, and where once wide swaths of jungle-like riparian forests teemed with wildlife, there was now bare tilled earth.   But nature has her own way, and every now and then, the river still out-maneuvered its engineers, as floodwaters topped the riverbanks, eager to return to their former floodplains - gone, perhaps, but not forgotten by the river.   A few farmers eventually admitted defeat, selling their river-flooded dairy land to the federal government.  The San Joaquin River ...

A few days ago, Eric and I spent a lovely spring day hiking with friends at Pinnacles National Park.  And of course, when I say "hiking," you know I mean birding also!  We hiked eight miles in total, from the visitor center along the Bench, Sycamore, and Moses Spring Trails to Bear Gulch Reservoir, encountering 47 species of birds along the way. A diversity of plant communities in Pinnacles National Park offers habitat for 160 species of birds.  While much of the steep mountainous terrain in the park is covered by chamise-dominated chaparral, pine and oak woodland, dominated by gray pine and blue oak, is well represented also.  Riparian corridors of sycamores and willows follow the paths of Bear Gulch and Chalone Creek, offering refuge in an otherwise often hot and arid landscape. From the moment we got out of the car near the visitor center, the sound of birds filled the air: most notably, the raucous calls and incessant chattering of a large flock of Acorn Woodpeck...

Probably a good candidate for the distinction of "most common bird that non-birders have never heard of," the Spotted Towhee ( Pipilo maculatus ) is at home across much of California and the West wherever suitable habitat is present.   A large, chunky sparrow, the Spotted Towhee hangs out in thick underbrush and tangles of vegetation in chaparral, dry woodlands, forest edges, and even the brushy edges of fields and backyards.  I come across these striking birds just about every time I venture out, from the mountains to the coast: they are common residents in the undergrowth along Central Valley rivers, like the Tuolumne, Stanislaus and San Joaquin, in brushy edge habitat around wetlands and grasslands, and in pockets of shrubby vegetation in oak woodlands and dry forests.  One even showed up - briefly - in my own backyard!   The photos below were taken last week in a small riparian area along a creek, an island of vegetation in a grassland sea.  Overgr...

In California's Great Central Valley, wildfires are not generally an imminent threat, surrounded as we are by acres and acres of irrigated farmland.  But that is not the case over much of California's grasslands, woodlands, forests, and chaparral ecosystems, all of which have evolved and adapted over the millennia to thrive with regular renewal by fire. Fire is an essential part of what makes California so very uniquely California . I, however, dislike wildfires.  My gut reaction in the face of what we perceive as "devastating" wildfires is one of grief: grief over the loss of life and the good green things of this world.  Much as I prefer to skip Tolkien's penultimate chapter in  The Return of the King , titled "The Scouring of the Shire," I would rather not dwell too much on wildfires and their ravaging forces.  (Aside: I totally get why Peter Jackson left out the scouring of the Shire when he made his trilogy of films!  But we can talk about that ...

In some parts of the world, magical places really do exist.  Glittering snowcapped peaks ,  oasis pools of turquoise  and ferny fairylands are all out there, just waiting to be discovered!    A couple of weeks ago while exploring the Morro Bay area with my mom (visiting that part of the state for my cousin's wedding), we came across an enchanted place unlike any other: El Moro Elfin Forest.   The Elfin Forest While there are no actual elves, fairies, pixies, dryads, or other small woodland folk inhabiting this forest (that we saw), the miniature woodland is certainly possessed by its own type of botanical enchantment.  The landscape is filled with an abundance of flowering jewels (wildflowers and flowering shrubs), fluttering gems (butterflies and birds)... and beautifully sculpted dwarf trees, for which the forest is named.  Though the graceful forms of dwarfed Coast Liv...