Berkeley Backyard Bird Blog: January 2014

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Perfect Timing & Good Luck Required to Spot "Exotic" Birds in Botanical Garden

View of U.C. Berkeley Campanile and Golden Gate Strait

Cresting one final hilly stretch of Centennial Drive, I pull in, out of breath and all nicked up, at the University of California Botanical Garden.

Vulture hovering above

I lock my bike up and fetch camera and binoculars from my pack, happy to be here after a ludicrously mis-routed and insanely bodacious ride over, through, up, in and down a gigantic hill below the completely fenced in, security-heavy Lawrence Berkeley Lab.

Botanical Garden lush beauty

On sketchy single-track, meant strictly for deer and other competent four-legged creatures, me and my trusty Gary Fisher, seeking egress ended up tracing a tough, tough line along the endless perimeter of the fence, probably being laughed at by the security cam guys.

Robin boldly posing

I finally come to a dead-end, then down into a rough, rough gully cul-de-sac (me cursing and mostly off and pushing my bike), which meant a grueling I-can't-do-this slog back up the steep non-trail on slickery oak leaves, before having no choice but to descend a 100 ft. steeper-ass slope to the road in glissading fashion using my bike, on its side, in front of me, as a sort of snow plow (or leaf plow, if you will), as I slid on my ass precariously down the frictionless earth.

Gentle stream in garden attracts birds, insects, mammals

First time in a long time I've done anything precarious. Hence, my being out of breath and all nicked up and not too, too badly out of commission to do a little bird watching.

Manzanita varieties grace the garden

I tell ya, what better day than today

to be out doing something, to be here now?

White-breasted Nuthatch looking for tidbits

After weeks of horrible air quality, things seem fresh and aromatic again. In the jardin extraordinaire, a vibrancy of life overtakes the senses. But I can't help wonder, though, if weeks and weeks of air deemed "unhealthy for sensitive groups" hasn't taken a toll on our little Canary in the coal mine friends . . . ?

Redwood groves at to majesty and mystique at the garden

Tucked away in a sun-plastered, west-facing nook of beautiful Strawberry Canyon in the Berkeley Hills bordering the world-famous campus, the gardens' 34 acres provide lush, attractive, serene settings showcasing every variety of flora imaginable.

California Towhee pecking around

It is a place to explore, relax, and appreciate a treasure trove of rare, endangered, threatened, and unique plants from habitats the world over. With more than 12,000 different plants, shrubs, cacti and trees, it would take many, many visits to pay each individual its due.

Peaceful Zen scene of reflective water

Long ago I was last here. I don't get up Centennial Drive all that frequently, and when I do, I'm bustin' a lung up a challenging stretch of the "Berkeley Death Ride" to Grizzly Peak, and unless you're a plant freak, well, it's kinda like, been there done that.

Band-tailed Pigeon roosting high up

But once you become a bird freak, or a simple "miracle in the moment" nature freak, well, 34 acres anywhere is as good as a meditative Zen garden, and here in particular, owing to thousands of biodiverse plants, it's an expansive 34-acre avian-attracting arboretum.

Dark-eyed Junco collecting nest material

It's easy to while away the hours at the UC Botanical Garden, if so inclined, doing not much of anything but watching for and looking at birds. Hoping to espy a Pacific Wren or California Thrasher. Maybe even the ever-elusive Shrike!

Boardwalks allow all ages, sizes and abilities to access the garden

Just leisurely strolling around the beautiful landscaped grounds in a sort of pleasantly warped zoned out state of mind, not really caring if I do make the acquaintance of a White-throated Swift or Common Goldeneye (so common I've seen it exactly zero times since I really began noticing birds five years ago).

Northern Flicker looking away

Pausing here and there to rest on benches in tranquil, contemplative sylvan settings. Occasionally waving to a Jay or Thrush or Chickadee. Taking in iconic views of the Golden Gate Strait and Marin Headlands – Westward Ho!

Looking toward the Marin Headlands

Reflecting in silent reverie beside an artificially created but no less charming pool / cascade scene in the Asian section. And always, always, on the lookout for movement in trees, on the ground, and in the air for some bird or another.

Scrub Jay clinging to branch

A Belted Kingfisher, perhaps, or a Pygmy Nuthatch, to make a surprise cameo appearance.

A Pygmy Nuthatch, perhaps (?)

Whether doing (or not doing) much of anything, bird watching (watching for birds) captivates you at every turn, enthralls your every sensory perception, makes the doing the being, the being the doing.

Curious Steller's Jay

If that doesn't compute, go forth, find the Zen garden

or enchanted forest nook, and discover its truth.

Crow and Hummingbird

Depending on the season, you'll be lucky to experience the thrill of what I call a "dream sighting" – of oh-so-many birds I've never seen and can only hope to see: Lazuli Buntings, Barn Owls, Swainson's Thrushes, Loggerhead Shrikes, Bullock's Orioles, Say's Phoebe, Greater White-fronted Geese.

Hermit Warbler seen in Tilden Park on Nimitz Way

And what about Setophaga occidentali, the Hermit Warbler, a tough to spot little guy whose name suggests residency West of the Rockies, where they nest exclusively in tall conifers, easier heard than seen. But one day I did espy the little guy up in Tilden Park.

Great spot to stop and look for bird activity

The promise of sighting over 100 species of birds – about one-fifth of that recorded at the 71,000 acre spread of Point Reyes National Seashore – is pretty darn impressive, even if you aren't a bird freak. So to a bird freak, this is like ground zero.

Sweet little Song Sparrow

Scratch that image. This is like Jeffrey Kimball's enjoyable documentary "The Central Park Effect", where a great swathe of greenbelt (800 or so acres of Central Park) draws down tens of thousands of "exotic" migratory birds, over 100 species, every spring. So, 34 acres vs. 71,000 and 800, ratio of species to acre = ?? (Help me here with my math, folks, but seriously, this is a magnet for birds.)

Perfect spot to sit and listen to the birds chirp

Whether it's too late in the fall migration cycle (or too early in the spring), or my timing and luck are just off, on this lackadaisical day of strolling and lolling, I don't have a single "dream sighting" – not of a Gray Catbird, not of a Red-breasted Sapsucker, not of a Golden-crowned Kinglet, or 40 other birds who have eluded me but dwell as permanent or fly-by-night residents of the hilly woodlands, meadows and riparian areas of Berkeley.

Downy Woodpecker (or Ladderback?) (Or Nuttall's?)

But how can I complain when so many of the "usual suspects" – delightful, quirky, cute every time – have revealed themselves to my voyeuristic eye. Have served to strengthen my connection evermore to the natural world of plants, trees, grass, sky and birds that lay low and fly high.

Zen garden effect

Read Gambolin' Man's write-up of Berkeley's

other notable botanic garden in Tilden Park:

EAST BAY REGIONAL PARK BOTANIC GARDEN (2013)

Wildcat Creek
flowing through

Friday, January 3, 2014

Of Urban Redoubts, Refuges, Havens & Sanctuaries for the Wild Birds of Berkeley

Redwood trees add grandeur at Codornices Park

Berkeley is renowned for many things – a world-class academic institution, a first-rate arts scene, unparalleled diversity and culture, and wacko trend-setting politics.

Red-shouldered Hawk at rest

But thank Goddess

for the beautiful Berkeley Hills.

Benner Falls just outside the park on private property

Topping out at Vollmer Peak (1905 ft.), the Berkeley Hills offers up boundless recreational opportunities, with over 10,000 acres of mostly undeveloped (heavily managed) park lands to explore – Tilden, Wildcat and Briones.

Ruffled feathered Anna's Hummingbird

On this side of the ridge, though, the neighborhood side, what may be known only to Berkeley's residents (who have included a veritable Who's Who of the Famous and Infamous), one finds a trove of hilly, forested, veritably wild city parks (if one looks).

Dense forest of canopy and understory provide food and shelter

Mini-nature getaways, Berkeley's "nature parks" offer up abundant evidence of small miracles at every turn, places where one experiences, as I wrote in a post on Codornices Creek:

Orange-crowned Warbler

. . . a bonk on the head reminder that you don't have to venture far afield from your doorstep to partake of the glorious pageantry

of Mother Nature unfolding in undisturbed, timeless rhythms, however small or hidden.

Codornices Creek gushing along after a downpour

Because I can't always get to Tilden / Wildcat / Briones, I've been forced to take advantage of exploring our city parks (poor me), a cluster of them within walking distance from my North Berkeley neighborhood.

Mary walking in a relatively secluded spot in the park

Codornices, Live Oak, Mortar Rock, Indian Rock, Grotto Rock, Remillard, Cragmont, Great Stoneface, John Hinkel.

American Crow

I have discovered they are places of understated natural beauty, perfectly wonderful habitats aflutter with transient and permanent bird species, owing to the parks' rustic settings among volcanic boulders, redwood trees, streams, waterfalls, and pockets of hidden forest and brush.

Codornices Creek flowing through the forested park

For us humans, the parks provide much needed respite from jarring city life and the madding crowd, but for the birds . . . well, these places truly are for the wild birds of Berkeley.

Mama Sharp-shinned Hawk on high alert

I've spent the past few days checking out Codornices Park enjoying the comings and goings and doings of a bounty of bird friends, an abundance of avian amigos, a plethora of passerine pals, from Juncos and Jays, to Chickadees and Kinglets, to Thrushes and Warblers and Wrens.

A Bushtit's nest

At the end of a two-hour birding session, I'm lucky to spot a beautiful Sharp-shinned Hawk, North America's smallest.

This Sharp-shinned Hawk is a permanent resident of the park

Only once before had I espied one so up close and personal, amazingly, in the 108-year old Interior Live Oak tree out my bedroom window. Both, wonderful and unexpected surprises, and no small miracle.

Sharp-shinned Hawks are hard to distinguish from Cooper's Hawks

So I'm hangin' out watchin' for birds in my usual place – the upper reaches of the hilly park – where only dog walkers and teen stoners pass by – when I'm struck by an urge to explore more, as though there's any more exploring to do in the very delimited park boundaries hedging up against tall Redwood fencing abutting spacious back yards.

Peaceful retreat and hangout at Codornices Park

But indeed, a deer trail leads into sylvan pockets of dense tree cover and brush, promising areas I'd peered up into from below, but never checked out until now. Stooping to clear some tangled foliage, I startle a big bird from his hiding place in thick brush.

Sharp-shinned Hawk checking me out maybe

Emerging into the open, I glance up at a nearby tree branch and see the perching Hawk, busy with his freshly killed meal, which, I realize, is probably one of the little songbirds I'd just been admiring. I can't really tell, but I do see a red and white gloopy glob of something fall from his sharp yellow beak to the ground, to no great apparent concern.

Wilson's Warbler heading to creek to sip 'n dip

These handsome Accipiters, with their sturdy squared-off tails that act as rudders, swoosh and swoop through dense forest cover in deadly assaults on songbirds and mice. The stealth creature's diet consists of 90% of their avian kind, but they're not secretive for nothing – they themselves are subject to being preyed upon and eaten as a tasty meal by larger stealth creatures, such as the Northern Goshawk.

Red-tailed Hawk on the wing

Specialized "pursuit hunters" such as the Sharp-shinned Hawk chase down and snatch songbirds out of thin air, or pounce on mice from perches just 36 inches from the ground. To be lucky enough to stumble on one them in wild feasting mode, in a local city park, reaffirms the necessity of preserving our urban redoubts, refuges, havens and sanctuaries for the wild birds and animals (and weary humans).

Upper back side of Codornices Park is a bird haven

Certainly, this Sharp-shinned Hawk is a regular nester, somewhat known (among the avianscenti in North Berkeley) for its uncharacteristic frequent appearances over the tree-tipped skies (often harassed by a swarm of Crows).

Mayhem and murder in the sky

But, surely, permanent residency is to be expected, for Sharpies are no dummies, attracted to easy pickings in the urban-cum-woodsy setting of North Berkeley where bird feeders attract a year-round smorgasbord of songbirds (Warblers, Robins, Thrushes, Sparrows, poor little things).

Red-shouldered Hawk alighting in Live Oak Park

Crazy fact:

11,000 (!) Sharp-shinned Hawks

were spotted on a single day

in October on Cape May Point, New Jersey.

Coupla Jay feathers

The unexpected sighting in Codornice Park of a gorgeous Sharp-shinned Hawk reminds me of a chance sighting I had in the same area of another rarely seen and pretty bird – a Varied Thrush.

Varied Thrush in no rush

I spotted him flapping from branch to branch, then landing and remaining still for a nice look. I happened to take a shortcut through an area where a homeless person was encamped, and was pleasantly surprised (rewarded) when the bird flushed out of the brush.

The colorful and secretive Varied Thrush

A flurry of impressionistic colors: burnt orange, sooty black, a flash of turquoise. Such a precious gem of a creature unnoticed in this intimate, fleeting moment in time and place.