Natural History Journal

Autumn might just be my favorite season in the Sierra Nevada. Maybe. Gone are summer's long, lazy days of exploring creeks in cutoffs and swimming in mountain lakes. But I'll make the exchange, for golden leaves swirling on the breeze and crunching underfoot, chilly nights with starry skies, cozy flannel shirts and woolly mittens holding warm beverages around the campfire... We spent last weekend on the Eastern side of the Sierra, taking in the sights and reveling in the beauty of the season. And I can safely say, fall is in full swing: now is the time to get out and see the fall colors! California is known as the golden state for the obvious reason: gold was discovered here, triggering a booming gold rush during the mid-to-late 1800's. But I'd like to add a few more of my own reasons for the nickname. In spring, golden carpets of wildflowers spread across hills and valleys in varying hues: California poppies, goldfields, tidytips and their yellow compo...

Occasionally, we tend to forget that nature is all around us, that the urban greenspaces, suburban backyards and even small farms we encounter in our everyday lives may be considered mini-ecosystems in their own right.  Sometimes we don't need to drive to the mountains or coast, or plan an epic week-long camping trip; sometimes we just need a reminder that the neighborhood in which our home now sits was once a balanced natural ecosystem, and perhaps all we need to do is rediscover it. Charismatic and dazzlingly blue, California scrub-jays ( Aphelocoma californica ) are common backyard residents in these parts, as well as characteristic denizens of the surrounding oak woodlands. My house sits on the fertile soil (Tujunga loamy sand, to be exact, derived from ancient alluvial fans) of California's Great Central Valley, in an upland region between two major rivers, the Tuolumne to the north and the Merced to the south.  The San Joaquin River lies twelve or fifteen m...

For the past two years, the 26th of September has been a special day for me as a naturalist, as it has marked my personal FOS Sandhill Crane sighting. (For those not up to snuff on birding lingo, "FOS" stands for "first of season," and helps keep a record of the timing of migration by denoting when the first individuals of a migratory species show up each spring or fall.  Over time, a pattern of certain migrants arriving earlier or later can point to larger-scale phenomena, like climate change.  So, if you're out birding, be sure to note your FOS-es!) During the last few weeks of September, I begin to feel it: a change in the air (despite the high temperatures), a restlessness in the natural world.  Things are happening!  I begin scanning the skies, checking the wetlands, listening a little bit more carefully.  And then one day I hear it: the distinct croaking call of the Sandhill Crane! Yesterday, I heard the call and was delighted to look up into th...

Summer has officially drawn to a close, and autumn is upon us, despite the lingering heat.  Soon, some of my favorite winter migrants will be showing up in the San Joaquin Valley, like Cedar Waxwings  and Sandhill Cranes . The summer has flown by (no pun intended) in a whirlwind of activity, as I have found myself up to my ears in new projects, like demolishing our kitchen, building shelves for our library, and beginning a complete overhaul of our new quarter-acre property!  But I did manage to squeeze in exactly two birding trips to the Sierra Nevada (which is not nearly enough).  One of my most memorable encounters was with a diminutive denizen of mixed conifer forests, the Red-breasted Nuthatch.  The photo below is not the best quality, but it will have to do since it's the only one that turned out at all! Red-breasted Nuthatch ( Sitta canadensis ) Predominately birds of coniferous forests, the Red-breasted Nuthatch ( Sitta canadensis ) is found ac...

If you heard the name "Western Wood-Pewee" (or, Contopus sordidulus , if you prefer) you might not be able to readily put a face to the name, so to speak.  But if you've spent much time in the Sierra Nevada mountains (or other western woodlands) you just might recognize this little bird by its voice.  To me, the call of the Western Wood-Pewee is part of my summer soundtrack, forever associated with the scent of pine and mountain misery hanging heavy in warm mountain air. The Western Wood-Pewee is a fairly common tyrant flycatcher, but they are certainly more often heard than seen.  And even when you do see one, it can be a challenge telling this small, plain flycatcher from the smattering of similarly colored and shaped flycatchers in the west.  Western Wood-Pewees are at home in a variety of woodland habitats, particularly riparian areas in coniferous and mixed conifer forests.  While these flycatchers breed across much of wes...

Coots are not ducks.  That's probably one of the first lessons in waterfowl taxonomy you ought to learn.  In fact, they're not even kind of sort of related to ducks.  American Coots ( Fulica americana ) belong to the Rail family (Rallidae), along with rails (naturally) and gallinules.  Going one taxonomic step above family, they belong to the order Gruiformes, which also includes the crane family.  Ducks, geese and swans, however, are members of the order Anseriformes, quite a different branch of the avian family tree. So, the next time someone inquires about an all-black "duck" with a white bill and funny-looking feet, feel free to kindly share with them that the coot is not a duck at all, but actually more closely related to Sandhill Cranes !  Adult American Coot with two juveniles Because American Coots are terribly common birds on almost every body of water across nearly the entire North American continent, I pay them ve...

Experiencing a dawn chorus in the forests of the Sierra Nevada is a soul-stirring experience I wish everyone could appreciate.  Snuggled in a downy sleeping bag, the first rays of golden light peek over mountain ridges and pick their way through conifer boughs, sending streaks of color through the gray pre-dawn sky.  At the first signs of dawn, diurnal songbirds begin to stir, a chorus of glorious birdsong beginning quietly and gradually growing to fill the trees with earth's sweetest music. And one of the key musicians of this dawn chorus is the Black-headed Grosbeak ( Pheucticus melanocephalus ), a handsome black-and-orange bird, with a sturdy bill and sweet song.  Like the Western Tanager , the Black-headed Grosbeak is a member of the Cardinal family (Cardinalidae).  They are birds of western forests, where they inhabit high treetops, gleaning insect prey from foliage.  In the winter, Black-headed Grosb...