Quintupling Down: 5 Sightings / 5 Days / 5 Elusive Birds

The glory that is Mount Diablo ("Tuyshtak")

The Bay Area is a great place to call home,

and maybe 300 species of birds do so at any given time.

White-breasted Nuthatch poking around

During an extended holiday weekend, we pack in a vacation’s worth of adventure for the small price of five short drives to three nature blessed counties: Marin, Alameda, and Contra Costa.

Stunted wind-worn trees, Marin County coast

We wake up not knowing where each day will take us, but assured that no matter which direction we set off, a favorite, oft visited locale awaits, a cherished retreat never boring or reduced to the commonplace . . . each time drawn back by the hypnotic spell of water and sensorial pleasures of rolling hills and sylvan wonderlands.

Among Redwoods and ferns at Steep Ravine

From oceanic expanses and bay shoreline, to lakes, ponds and cascading creeks; to lands of rugged beauty, Diablo Range and North Coast boundary country of grand skies, flower-dotted meadows, Redwood groves and green forests with healthy animal and bird populations.

Pacific view on flanks of Mount Tamalpais

Over five days, in five different venues, five difficult to spot birds briefly reveal their presence. Difficult for me to spot, that is. For whatever reason, these five birds remain elusive, rarely, if ever, seen, even though they’re classified as “common” Code 1 species.

Bewick's Wren about to hop off

Compare, for instance, the 90,000,000 strong, commonly spotted, fidgety, insect-eating dynamo, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet to the 100,000,000 strong similarly temperamental Golden-crowned Kinglet. I see Ruby all the time, to the point where, unless he’s flashin’ that hint of red soul patch atop his little drab olive head, it’s hardly cause for celebration.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet with big ol' eye

But Goldy? I’ve seen this tiny songbird of “least concern” a grand total of three times. Three times. Doesn’t make sense, can’t explain it, but that’s my experience. How about you?

Golden-crowned Kinglet
(photo by DickDaniels  (http://theworldbirds.org/),
CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>,
via Wikimedia Commons)

On day one, we squeeze into one of about six angled parking spots off Highway 1, at the Steep Ravine pull-out, near Marin County’s Stinson Beach. Located on Mount Tamalpais’ southwest flank, few places are prettier than Steep Ravine, especially when the water’s churning.

Webb Creek rushing along at Steep Ravine

A couple of Goddess-send downpours in February have revived Webb Creek’s discharge through the perennially gorgeous gully; we’re giddy and energized on the hike in the presence of frothy water swooshing melodiously over polished boulders, cascading down twenty foot ledges, singing merrily its bedrock song, snaking around bend after bend with enormous Redwood trees and gigantic Western Ferns accentuating the Northwest Rainforest feel to things.

Beautiful grove of Sequoia sempervirens at Steep Ravine

Downed trees across the creek are natural, dangerously slippery bridges. Trillium and mushrooms are popping up left and right. Steep Ravine is a hugely popular trail, easily accessed and hiked, but today, an overcast Friday, things aren’t too (too) bad in terms of crowds. Hardly any birds at all, though, until we emerge from the damp fragrant gully into a bright meadow on the Dipsea Trail, edged by trees and dense shrubbery.

Brown Creeper gathering nesting material

Birds are out playing in force. I spot a half-dozen Ruby-crowned Kinglets, one of the them emblazoning his ruby patch for a split sec – only about the sixth time I've ever seen that; also a ton of Juncos, along with an angry Scrub Jay, a handful of my little Chickadees, blustering Crows, and ground pecking, Golden-crowned Sparrows, Spotted Towhee, the usual suspects.

Red-eyed, black-headed gorgeous Spotted Towhee

When suddenly, OMG, a Golden-crowned Kinglet pops into view! I fumble with my binos, losing sight of the precious thing, but he’s sticking around just long enough for me to get in a couple of good looks – for about four seconds total. This crafty bird is way too flighty, and too far away, and soon disappears completely, for me to snap a photo or be able to hone in for some voyeuristic oohing and aahing.

View of Mount Diablo massif from Marsh Creek Road

But this one’s in the books all the same.

Make that 1 for 1.

Hiburnia hills of Mount Diablo

Next day we head out Mount Diablo way, to Contra Costa County’s famous State Park, where we bike up South Gate Road for several miles to Rock City, climbing upwards of 1200 feet. Thankfully, it’s a gradual ascent over 3 miles with drop-dead gorgeous views to keep us distracted from the rigors at hand (at foot).

Vulture poised for graceful launch

Here and there, and everywhere, I pull over to watch Red-tailed Hawks and Vultures gracefully circling over greening hills, and gaze out at mansion-dotted communities (e.g., ultra-tony Blackhawk), and that ever awesome Diablo Range country highlighted by stellar views of Mission and Monument Peaks and a jagged silhouette of the Ohlone Ridge beyond Livermore.

Unique sandstone formations at Rock City (Mount Diablo)

Rock City is a popular picnicking and rock climbing area, a beautiful Southwestern terrain of rugged hills and gulches, numerous and extensive sandstone formations, carved out wind caves, oddly shaped and positioned boulders, and many trails to hike in a mixed habitat of chaparral, riparian, oak / bay / woodland / and manzanita.

TOM rock at Mount Diablo State Park

We stop to check out some heavily graffitied rocks, with scrawled initials, dates, bizarre images and other crypto-symbols defacing these ancient bones. (Modern-day petroglyphs?) We pounce around like cats on these traction-perfect surfaces, no wonder that any yahoo with a knife can approach the boulders and carve away.

Mama Madrone

One particular stunning view looks down at two Mama Madrone trees unprecedented in girth and presence. I’ve not seen grander specimens anywhere. Lingering in this spot, entranced by the tree / rock symbiosis, and easily and endlessly amused by the frolicking play of a Bewick’s Wren, Chickadees, Lark Sparrows, and Anna’s Hummingbirds.

Hawk with lizard in talons

We leave pavement here for a flat and easy ride on a fire road portion of Summit Trail, where by and by we stop for lunch. We’re just over a short ridge from McMansionville, and yet we might as well be miles away, so thoroughly are we immersed in what I will call wilderness, thank you.

Mount Diablo viewed from Morgan Territory Regional Preserve

Some high pitched Titmouses are stirring up a ruckus in an oak tree, and other unseen birds are chittering up a storm, when a novel vocalization catches my attention: a lovely lilting, inexorably pure song of “churrick churrick” . . .

California Thrasher out on a limb

It’s at once excitable and maddening not to see or be able to identify the owner of this rolling, trilling melody previously unheard. Then in a flappy flutter, the bird soars over to a thin branch, in open brush, for some mighty fine extended viewing from a distance of about 75 feet.

California Thrasher calling out, "Churrick! Churrick!"

I’ve got him in my sights at last! A newly spotted bird, rustically handsome, with a big ol’ curved beak handy for picking out grasshoppers and beetles off leafy floors. It’s a California Thrasher! My first ever sighting! No biggie for you, maybe, but for me it’s hard to believe I’ve never seen one in my life in all the times I've tramped around in his territory.

Mama Quail sittin' pretty

Until now, this magical moment.

Mark it down: 2 for 2.

Enchanting creek at Steep Ravine

Our third day of consecutive outings finds us lured back to irresistible Marin County, this time to lovely Carson Falls, a rocky gorge of cascades and falls fed by Little Carson Creek, an unimposing waterway cutting a brushy swathe through pristine meadowland and hill country on Marin Municipal Water District lands.

Carson Falls in fine form

At the base of the falls, Little Carson tumbles down a sharp gully to eventually be captured in one of MMWD’s reservoirs. Carson Falls is always a great hike, especially when accessed via the easily overlooked Liberty Trail off Bolinas-Fairfax Road. The trail wends through a temperate rainforest along gushing Liberty Creek.

Small creek along Liberty Trail

A tiny thread of water, nothing to get excited about, but we’re excited nonetheless. Smoky mists from sun beams poking through arching canopy lend a magical ambiance; aromas of musky earth drift upwards; and giant Western Ferns adorn the creek banks alongside stately redwood trees and whimsically shaped crooked alders.

Northern Mockingbird

Suddenly, having climbed a hundred feet, we emerge into a brightly lit, open area with Mount Tamalpais dominating the watershed view. Beyond, to the East Bay and Mount Diablo, 30 miles distant, the Bay Area unfolds. Hummingbirds, Warblers, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, and Chestnut-backed Chickadees abound on the tree lined, brushy fringes in successive magical sightings of birds at play, of birds bein' birds.

Alder forest along Liberty Trail

But where’s my “unique” bird sighting?

Patience, my dear fellow.

Varied Thrush pops into view

On the return, back in the secreted copse of Liberty Creek, I’m in the right place at the right time for an evanescent and rare glimpse of – are you ready? – an Adult Female Varied Thrush! It’s only the second one I’ve seen.

Fine sighting of Varied Thrush

Where have they been all my life?

Make it a hat trick: 3 for 3.

Rollicking hills at Briones Regional Park

Our fourth day, tireless for adventure and a nature fix, we haul our bikes out to a beloved destination – at least when the cows haven’t grossly mucked up the place. Briones Regional Park, in Contra Costa County, is a land of undulating hills, open brush, grass and meadowlands, Bear Creek’s riparian corridor, healthy forests – a birder’s (or a bird’s?) paradise!

Horned Lark - my only sighting and only photo from years ago

And do I ever have a field day, even though no sign of any Horned Larks, the pretty Old World birds native to the open spaces of Alhambra Creek watershed that I’ve had the pleasure of seeing a grand total of one time over the years.

Brionesland

We set off on Old Briones Road, but not before a just-this-side-of-senile Old Timer pigeonholes me in the parking lot for fifteen minutes reminiscing (mostly to himself as I busy myself getting the bikes ready) about how he used to drive this road to Martinez every day. Genuinely interested, I engage him for a few, then bid adieu.

Goose fleeing away

From OBR, we veer onto Valley Trail and encounter a tough mother of a slog up short but steep hills, impossible to ride, so we push our bikes up in places until we’re on the Crest Loop, out of breath and relieved it’s all roller coaster fun from here on out.

Idyllic trail at Briones

We stop here and there, and everywhere, to observe:

A nonet of Crows chillin’ on tree snag

A Great Blue Heron stalking near a pond

Western Bluebirds flocking in pines

Gorgeous Townsend's Warbler posing prettily

Merry ol' Scrub Jays

Northern Flickers banging away on trees

Robins streaking across the sky
with a sense of urgency

Cedar Waxwings congregating
and munching on berries

Emboldened, good-looking Golden-crowned Sparrows

Top flight sighting of American Kestrel
alighting on dead branch

Lesser Goldfinch in seed heaven

Yellow-rumped Warbler wondering about something

Red-tailed Hawk in regal pose

White-tailed Kite just back from a hunting expedition

And, ta da, high above, a finale cameo of none other than a regal White-tailed Kite, treading air in the wind, legs suspended, eyes fixated on the vole and snake-rich terrain below.

White-tailed Kite waiting for partner to return with vole

I’d seen the Kite here on just three other past occasions, so this is a notable experience.

White-tailed Kite flying away with prey

Mark it down:

4 for 4.

Crows grooming

It’s our last day of gettin’ out and about. We opt for a local, easy ten minute drive to Tilden Nature Area in the Berkeley Hills.

Big Springs in the Berkeley Hills (Tilden Park)

It's always a beautiful place with plenty of birds to see, hills to climb, a wonderful boardwalk stroll through great birding territory, and an endless matrix of trails to hike.

Warbling Vireo in Tilden Nature Area

On Blue Gum Trail (named after the pernicious Australian eucalyptus brought over in a futile money making scheme in the 1800s), a mile out 'n back to pretty Jewel Lake, we watch Cormorants deep dive and Mallards waddle about, and Black Phoebes feeding and a Downy Woodpecker pecking away. Piles of turtles are sunning on logs.

Pie-billed Grebe spotted (a first!) at Jewel Lake in Tilden Nature Area

I've got my eyeballs peeled for a Belted Kingfisher, which I have seen here once or twice, as well as on a handful of occasions seeing the Night Heron, but always a juvenile and rarely an adult specimen.

Belted Kingfisher flew in

You can’t go wrong here, finding deep connections with nature on your doorstep, even though all we’re doing is . . . not much of anything!

Juvenile Black-crowned Night Heron

On the return loop, a Rufus Hummingbird affords the briefest of glimpses! It’s been ages since I’ve seen this teensy nectar-sucking bird, and I’m amazed to see him again.

Rufous Hummingbird (?) paying a visit

The flighty fellow landing on a filament of a branch, remaining motionless for a nano-second like a glistening tree ornament before flitting away with tremendous precision and speed – first here – then disappearing there – in a quantum-like illusion of being in two places instantaneously / simultaneously.

Rufous Hummingbird (?) taking a rest from frenetic flitting

Whatever, sure made my day!

That's a big 5 for 5.

Chestnut-backed Chickadee

Doubtless, I have missed many other one of a kind, infrequently espied birds. I know they are out there, all around me, all the time, hidden in dense brush or high tree tops, just waiting to be spotted. I read the accounts and see the awesome photos of many talented Bay Area birders.

Am I a Swainson's Thrush? Please let me know!

I may never see an Ovenbird, or a Western Wood-Pewee, or even be able to recognize their tweets, but the promise of potential future sightings of these and other elusive “common” birds I’ve never seen, such as the Gray Gnatcatcher, Nashville Warbler, Merlin – that is what keeps my pursuit alive and fresh.

Adult Black-crowned Night Heron

That is what powers and motivates a rich aspect of my own life, to know and understand the nearly inscrutable comings and goings and doings of birds. 

Robin in the tree

Of even a simple, solitary, common bird that is:

Egret
solitary, empowered, motivated

 " . . . powered by its own life

and by its own motivation."

(Quote attributed to A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, India's 11th President)

Pair of pretty Finches