Murals of Coit Tower

April 26, 2024April 25, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 26 Comments

As an iconic San Francisco landmark, Coit Tower offers history, art and outstanding panoramic views. The murals inside Coit Tower are some of the best in this mural-rich city.

Telegraph Hill and Coit Tower (white, center), SF

The first floor, stairwell, and second floor of Coit Tower feature murals telling stories about California and San Francisco in the late 1920s and 1930s.

Completed in 1934, the murals were funded by the New Deal Public Works of Art Project (PWAP) in the middle of the Great Depression. Twenty-seven murals in the American Social Realism style, done by 44 artists and assistants.

It was the first and largest project sponsored by the New Deal and influenced other New Deal art across the country. See map at end. Many of the most important Bay Area artists of the time were hired to create the artwork.

Coit Tower, a national historic landmark, was built in 1932-1933 and is an Art Deco 210-foot (64 m) tower erected as a tribute to the volunteer firemen who had died in San Francisco’s five major fires.

More info:

Coit Tower Wikipedia, including a detailed layout and description of each mural.

Most of the murals are very large. This photo, below, from “City Life” by Victor Arnautoff is only a segment of the 10′ x 36′ art piece.

Arnautoff was the supervisor of the mural project and, with another prominent muralist, Bernard Zakheim, successfully sought the New Deal commission.

The murals beautifully represent the passion of the artists and the life of the times. Themes include socialism, various industries, working people, classism, the Depression, California history, farming and agriculture, streets of San Francisco, recreation and more.

In short: life in California in 1934.

Several of the Bay Area artists who painted these murals had studied under painter Diego Rivera at his Mexico City studio and had leftist and Marxist leanings.

The finished murals at the time were so controversial that the official opening was delayed for several months until a few things were removed from the art, primarily a hammer and sickle.

The “Industries of California” mural, below, was done by Ralph Stackpole, a leading San Francisco artist of the time dedicated to drawing attention, through art, to the socio-political conditions of the working class.

“Banking and Law” by George Albert Harris depicts the Federal Reserve Bank, Stock Exchange, and a law library, below.

There were four women artists who worked on the Coit Tower murals. Maxine Albro painted the “California” mural, displayed in the two photos immediately below.

This large fresco is 10′ x 36′ and depicts a variety of California agricultural harvest scenes. Crops include hay, flower, oranges, apricots, almonds and grapes.

This mural is my favorite for its cheerful, productive, colorful nature.

This 10′ x 27′ fresco, below, “California Agricultural Industry” was painted by Gordon Langdon and Helen Clement.

Calif. Agricultural Industry by Langdon and Clement

Although the rotunda murals are open and free to the public, observing the stairwell murals usually requires a docent-led tour with a fee.

But when we visited earlier this month, the elevator was out of order and visitors had to walk the 234 steps to the top.

This gave us the dazzling opportunity to see the stairwell murals, which I had never seen. We also got some exercise.

This stairwell mural, below, called “Powell Street” by Lucien Labaudt, was painstakingly painted on both sides of the narrow, steep, spiral staircase and integrates the incline of the steps with the scene. It is the largest mural here, with two panels, each one 6′ x 32′.

“Collegiate Sports” painted by Parker Hall (below) is a 9′ x 13′ fresco located on the second floor of Coit Tower and includes many sports, a few featuring women.

In 2013 Coit Tower was closed to the public for renovations. The murals underwent an extensive six-month art restoration repairing scratches and water damage; the building underwent structural changes. The $1.7 billion renovation was sponsored by a citizens’ coalition proposition and voted in by residents.

It re-opened in May 2014.

The murals offer a palpable look into life during the Great Depression when economic hardship, high unemployment, widespread business failure and deep despair gripped the nation and the world.

While the murals are, in my opinion, the most remarkable aspect of Coit Tower, the incredible 360-degree views at the top are also truly splendid.

Both bridges can be seen from this perch in the sky. The Golden Gate Bridge, below, and the Bay Bridge, below that.

This photo, below, shows the new waterfront Ferris wheel at Fisherman’s Wharf, and also Alcatraz Island and San Francisco Bay. It was 10:30 am and morning fog was still dissipating.

Below you can see another popular San Francisco landmark in the center of the photo. Lombard Street also known as “the crookedest street in the world.”

A visit to the past, a bonanza of art, or a birds-eye view of the present–it’s all here at Coit Tower.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Courtesy Wikipedia.

Earth Day 2024

April 19, 2024April 18, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 51 Comments

In celebration of this year’s upcoming Earth Day, here is a global gallery and overview of the ecosystems on our vast planet.

There are many types of ecosystems, and sources differ, so I have narrowed it down here to seven: forests, grasslands, mountains, polar regions, deserts, aquatic and urban.

Each one of these major ecosystems is in environmental danger. I have provided several links (at the end) with information, interesting articles and ways you can continue to protect our planet.

But for now, let’s cruise around this beautiful planet and simply enjoy what we have–more photos than usual for this Earth Day celebration.

Forests.

As a lifelong birder, I have been to many forests and am always astonished by how different they can be.

Temperate forests, like the redwood forest below, are what we see a lot in Northern California.

But there are also forests where the tree roots are anchored in water. Below is a forest of large bald cypress trees, native to the southeastern U.S. This is a 300-acre city park in Houston.

Bald Cypress Forest, Jesse Jones Park, TX

Another type of forest, tropical rainforests, are found near the equator. Below is a forest opening by a riverbed in the Amazon where we sought macaws and found them.

Forest ecosystems support about three-quarters of life on Earth (World Wildlife Fund).

Grasslands.

Grasslands include everything from North American prairies to the African Serengeti. There are many kinds of grasslands, varying by grass types. They occupy every continent except Antartica and help sequester carbon.

These are the Pawnee Grasslands in Colorado.

The Serengeti, an ecosystem all its own, has a variety of grazing mammals due to the variety of different grasses. Wildebeests, for example, consume short grasses while the zebras prefer taller grasses.

Giraffes in the Serengeti, seen below, graze mostly on the trees.

Mountains.

There are many different kinds of mountains on Earth, formed in different ways. A mountain is typically at least 980 feet (300 m) above the surrounding land, formed through tectonic forces, erosion or volcanism.

The Andes Mountains are the longest continental mountain range in the world, extending through seven South American countries: Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina.

This is a glimpse of the Andes Mountains in Peru, where many communities have thrived for hundreds of years.

The Rocky Mountains are the largest mountain system in North America.

Mountains are important to our planet for many reasons, the main one being they provide water. High altitude natural structures generate ice and snow that melt and move into the lower altitudes providing water for drinking, domestic use, irrigation, industrial or transportation purposes.

Polar Regions.

Also called polar zones, they are the regions of the planet that surround Earth’s North and South poles.

They are the farthest regions from the equator and due to the axial tilt of the planet, receive the least amount of warming sunshine. General characteristics include extremely cold temperatures, heavy glaciation, short summers and extreme variations in daylight hours.

They play a vital role in regulating the Earth’s climate, something we are learning more about as the polar regions are thawing in today’s global warming phenomenon. Sea ice also helps regulate the movements of warm and cold water around the world’s oceans.

This is a glacier in Alaska near Seward, where almost 40 glaciers flow down from the Harding Icefield in the Kenai Mountains.

Although most venues in the northern hemisphere are warm in summer, both the above and below photos in Alaska were taken in the summer month of August.

This is Mt. Denali, the highest mountain peak in North America, photographed from a small airplane.

Deserts.

Deserts and other arid regions are generally classified as landscapes where little precipitation occurs. Again, there are many different types, depending on climate, location and overall aridity.

This desert ecosystem, in southern California, has plant life that has adapted to low precipitation.

Aquatic.

The aquatic environment includes oceans, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, wetlands, swamps and more.

Aquatic ecosystems provide critical habitats for boosting fish populations for animal and human consumption, as well as carbon sinks for capturing and storing carbon in marine soils.

Oceans cover nearly three-quarters of the planet’s surface.

Surgeon Fish, Great Barrier Reef, Aus. Photo by Calypso.

Freshwater lakes and rivers cover about 1% of Earth’s surface.

It is estimated there are more than 165,000 rivers on Earth.

The Amazon River in South America is the largest river in the world by discharge volume, with a total length of nearly 4,000 miles (6,400 km).

Urban.

Lastly, cities are home to more than half the world population, and the trend toward urbanization is expected to continue. Unlike the other ecosystems mentioned above, the urban ecosystem is created by humans.

In many cities of today and yesterday, the waterways are part of the urban landscape. Over the centuries, cities have developed around waterways for purposes of agriculture, transport and more.

For five millennia the ancient Egyptians developed their culture around the Nile River.

Amsterdam, below, one of the biggest centers of human activity in the 17th Century, is a city built on canals.

Sydney, Australia is built on a coastal basin bordering the Pacific Ocean.

In modern times, many large cities have created green spaces to boost air and water quality, aid in energy efficiency and biodiversity.

Below is an example of a Living Roof at the California Academy of Sciences building in San Francisco.

It is a 2.5-acre rooftop with over a million plants in the middle of the city. It provides an oasis for wildlife, birds, insects and wildflowers.

Parks and open spaces are also becoming increasingly more important in urban settings, recognized as quality real estate for providing mental and physical health to residents.

That concludes our review of Earth’s major ecosystems.

Earth Day started in 1970 and since then generations of people have contributed to enhancing our planet, providing innovative new ways to address the ongoing growth and evolution of life on Earth. There are always plenty of ways for us to contribute to the rejuvenation of our planet.

Yes, we have problems on our planet, but there is much to celebrate.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander unless noted.

Websites:

Earthday.org Earth Day 2024, What You Can Do

Deserts as Ecosystems and Why They Need Protecting by Environmental Science

Six Ways Trees Benefit People by Nature Conservancy

My recommendation for one of the worthiest ways to protect our health and environment: Environmental Working Group

Gulf Fritillary Butterfly, Jekyll Is., GA

Horns of Africa

April 12, 2024April 10, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 46 Comments

Here is a series of photos featuring beautiful horns on African mammals. Most of the animals are in the antelope family, but not all.

This male kudu, below, is a large and handsome antelope and he carries on his head a set of outstanding horns. Long, curved spirals with a sharp point.

All antelope species have horns and, in many species, only the males have them.

Only males of the greater kudu species, pictured here, have horns. Tragelaphus strepsiceros. Their horns do not begin to grow until the bull is 6-12 months old. They form the first spiral rotation at about age 2, and by age 6 have the full 2.5 rotations.

Animal horns are different than antlers. Horns are made of a bony core encased in keratin and continue to generate for the animal’s lifetime, whereas antlers are shed and regrown every year.

Below is an anatomical horn diagram. Courtesy Wikipedia.

Horns of the African buffalo are found in both genders. Syncerus caffer.

African Buffalo male horns form differently than the female’s. In the photo below the one on the left is a mature male, identified by the broad base forehead that forms a shield.

They have different postures for demonstrating aggression, but that day these two were just enjoying quiet time alongside the Chobe River.

This stunning antelope, below, is the Beisa Oryx. We came upon a herd in Samburu Kenya in 2003. They are now endangered. Oryx beisa beisa.

Also called East African Oryx, both genders have horns. You can see in this herd photo, below, there are different lengths of horns throughout the herd.

Impala (Aepyceros melampus) are a medium-sized African antelope, only the males have horns.

Impala, Zambia, Africa

Strongly ridged, the horns have an arch-like structure that allows interlocking when males are fighting opponents. Horns also protect the skull from damage.

Only males have horns in the Waterbuck species, another African antelope. Kobus ellipsiprymnus.

Waterbuck, Botswana, Africa

Steenboks and sables are two more African antelope, photographed below.

The steenbok is a small antelope with small horns, around four inches long (10cm) on the males only. Raphicerus campestris.

Conversely, the sable (Hippotragus niger) is a large antelope, photographed below. Both genders have ringed horns that arch backwards. Female horns are 24-20 inches long (61-102 cm) while the male’s horns are 32-65 inches long (81-165 cm).

All animal photos in this essay were photographed in the wild, by tireless wildlife photographer Athena Alexander.

Lastly, one of Africa’s most beleaguered animals due to its horns: the rhinoceros.

Rhinoceroses are killed by poachers for their horns, which are bought and sold on the black market for high prices primarily for use in traditional Chinese medicine. Most living rhinos now are considered endangered.

These are white rhinoceros, and both genders have horns. Ceratotherium simum.

Unlike most animal horns, which are comprised of a bony core coated by a relatively thin layer of keratin, rhino horns grow out of the skin and consist solely of keratin.

You can see in the above close-up that each rhino has two horns. Their horns are used for defense, establishing dominance, and as tools to break branches. They also use their horns for contact during social encounters.

In America we also have wildlife with horns–pronghorn, bighorn sheep, and bison. Moose and other deer have antlers.

But for today I’m glad we could dash over to Africa to admire some of the spectacular horns on the African mammals.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Spring Surprise

April 5, 2024April 4, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 62 Comments

Throughout the month of March, spring greetings come to us in Northern California in a myriad of ways. But it was on Easter Sunday when a special spring surprise presented itself.

Most of March here is about the rain…if we’re lucky. And we have been lucky this March, when most weeks we saw a few solid days of rain.

Spring rains mean no drought in autumn, and less chance of wildfires.

In between March’s rainy days, fruit trees began to blossom.

The bright yellow of daffodils shined through on rainy days.

The seasonal return of the Allen’s hummingbird reminded us that warm temperatures are coming soon.

And the California poppies, our state flower, begin popping out everywhere.

Then last week on Easter Sunday a really special miracle unfolded in our backyard.

During our breakfast on a blissfully quiet at-home morning, I noticed something different in the view out back. What was that brown thing in the midst of the tall, emerald grass?

Squinting and intrigued, we continued to watch. It was on the other side of the fence in an open-space field.

Then it moved, came out of the grass. It was the pointy brown ear of the smallest deer we had ever seen.

It was a tiny fawn, covered with white spots, and struggling to walk.

The fawn walked over to its mother and suckled, each step a monumental effort on weak little wobbly legs.

The mother was bent over, distracted, and as we kept watching we saw why she was distracted. She was licking and licking and licking a second just-born fawn.

Watching through binoculars, we realized two twin fawns had just been born.

This is the black-tailed deer, a subspecies of the mule deer. More specifically, it is the Columbian black-tailed deer (Odocoileus hemionus columbianus), common in Northern California. Deer often have twins.

Below she is nursing both fawns.

At first the twins were concealed in the tall grass and nearly impossible to see, and all three were absolutely silent throughout the entire birthing process.

But after it warmed up in mid-afternoon, the twins could move better and emerged from the grass cover. They were about 100 feet (30 m) from our back door as Athena quietly photographed from the doorstep while I watched with binoculars from inside.

Sometimes when the fawns were both scrambling underneath her it got crowded and chaotic, but she was always gentle and patient and then quietly raised a leg to accommodate their access.

Throughout the day and into the night, I noticed one or the other of us was frequently going to the back window, keeping an eye out for this vulnerable trio. And they were always there.

That night, the new family of three slept there.

We worried about the two newborns at night, where we have occasional coyotes, foxes and raccoons going through. But they made it through just fine.

Early the next morning I saw that mom strayed off for a few minutes. Deer are browsers, and she has two mouths to feed, must maintain her strength and replenish her body. Within minutes she came bounding back and was soon nursing again.

By Day 2, the fawns were looking remarkably stronger.

They will lose their spots within a few months.

The new day was warmer, they ventured off. So did we.

We saw them again later in the day, so we know both fawns and their mother survived two days and one night, but we never saw them again.

Fortunately, the fawns have no scent for their first week of life, enabling the mother to leave them hidden while she goes off to browse.

The tall grass hides them perfectly even when they’re standing, and their spots act as camouflage, too.

Sweet miracles–they often unfold all around us, we just have to stay present to receive them.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

A Day at San Francisco Bay

March 29, 2024March 28, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 43 Comments

Last week I arrived by public ferry from across the bay and enjoyed four invigorating hours along The Embarcadero in San Francisco, met a dear friend there.

Having lived in the Bay Area for over three decades, I found myself thinking about all the layers of life that have buoyed this dynamic waterfront.

The ferry docked behind the Ferry Building, an iconic, historic landmark.

The waters were choppy that day, high wind advisories.

This photo (below) is a good overview of the Ferry Building. It is the long, low building, lower center, with more than 20 arched windows. The clock tower is part of the building. In the distance you can see the Marin Headlands and one orange tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The Embarcadero is the waterfront roadway, it means “The Embarkment” in Spanish.

We walked about two miles south/southeast of the Ferry Building for this day’s adventure, and saw many new buildings as well as old, familiar sights. In the opposite direction is Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf.

It’s beautiful down at the bay–sparkling waters, open vistas, boats of all kinds. There are miles of palm-lined walkways with hundreds of businesses and condos, the baseball field, excellent restaurants, a Wharton college campus. There’s a small Google campus, too.

Heading south along the waterfront toward the Bay Bridge, we came upon the new Fire Department building. It is built entirely on a steel float.

Fire Station #35 built in February 2022, located at Pier 22-1/2, is home to the city’s fleet of fireboats and marine rescue watercraft. Photo below.

It is designed to rise and fall with the natural tides and projected sea-level rise and is also seismically resilient.

I saw one sea lion pop its head up near here, and throughout the day numerous gulls soared above us.

Many new buildings have been built around the Bay Bridge, including the Salesforce Tower, below, far left, the tallest building in San Francisco.

The bridge is a popular one, connecting San Francisco to the East Bay. More formally called the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, it is a complex of bridges carrying about 260,000 vehicles a day on its two decks.

We walked the length of Pier 14, jutting slightly over 600 feet (183 m) into the water. It was once a breakwater structure for the ferry terminal but after a major renovation it is more than that.

With maritime art and trendy chairs, it is a popular place for folks to breathe in fresh sea air, stretch, and enjoy stunning views of the city. Some come here to fish, too.

That day there were few people, undoubtedly due to severe gusting winds.

Below is the skyline view from Pier 14. On the far left is the comparatively short Hills Brothers building, with the flag on top…remember that for the subsequent photo.

In the early gold-rush days of San Francisco, there was no roadway here because there was no land. It was water and mud. That seems hard to believe because there are so many buildings now.

Eventually a sea wall was built, the mudflats were filled in, and a freight railway was created.

Take a look at this photo below of the Hills Brothers building and the same stretch of road, taken in 1949. Courtesy California Historical Society.

The Hills Brothers building, constructed in 1924, was originally a coffee roasting plant. In 1985 it was sold and has since been converted to offices, condos, a microbrewery, and more.

On our walk that day we found remnants of railroad tracks in a few obscure places.

There was also once a freeway along this stretch, from 1968 to 1991, forever controversial. It was a mammoth concrete structure that darkened the roadway, harbored a seedy neighborhood. It also obliterated all views of the bay. Traffic-wise, it was inefficient because it moved traffic around part of the city, but not most of it.

Then we had the 1989 earthquake and much of San Francisco’s waterfront was destroyed. The freeway was extensively damaged and thereafter demolished.

That’s when new life began at the waterfront…and it has never stopped.

In 1991 the city imported palm trees, upgraded almost everything, and the area was transformed from working wharves to high-rises with million-dollar views.

The Embarcadero is a busy thoroughfare with two lanes of traffic in each direction. There are above- and underground train cars, buses, autos, trucks, bicycles, skateboards and more.

The vehicles that stood out the most to me that day were the self-driving cars.

The two photos below of driverless cars were taken in different San Francisco neighborhoods on different days.

This first photo, taken last week, clearly demonstrates the driverless car is in traffic with no human at the wheel.

Also known as Waymo cars, I saw about 20 that day on The Embarcadero.

They are an experimental venture and an eye-opening blink into the future. They’re called driverless taxis or autonomous vehicles. Residents hail the taxi via phone app, instruct it where to take them, pay by credit card.

The car operates on sensors, a vision system, radar, and a light detection system called lidar. You can see the hardware on the roof. Little fans and motors are always spinning on them, even when they’re idle at a stoplight.

Still in its infant stages, there have been problems and plenty of critics.

So far we’ve had the past and present here on this walking adventure…then we came upon the past in the present.

Red’s Java House at Pier 30 was built in the 1930s and has been a favorite blast from the past all these years since.

There was a deadly longshoremen’s strike here in 1934.

Inside, vintage photos line the walls–World War II posters, San Francisco mayors, even Elvis.

Next door to Red’s, further back on Pier 30, we came upon an old clipper ship moored to the pier. It bobbed in the choppy water, an odd juxtaposition amidst luxury glass condos and driverless cars.

This turned out to be only the look of the past.

The gangplank was fenced and locked. The wind was wildly whipping the ship’s flags, and we could barely stand upright. A sign said it was a “modern clipper built on historic times.”

Built in 2000 in Amsterdam, the Stad Amsterdam is a historical reconstruction of a 19th Century clipper ship, now a luxury sailing yacht.

From that same pier, we could see Oracle Park where the San Francisco Giants play.

In the summer during baseball season, this section of The Embarcadero is loaded with happy baseball fans dressed in Giants gear, walking to the stadium. There is a special ferry for Giants fans, too.

While we walked that day, every quarter-hour we were treated to Westminster Quarters chimes from the Ferry Building clock, the same majestic sound Londoners hear from Big Ben.

And then it was time for me to catch the ferry.

We saw the past and present with forays into the future on this bright and blustery day at San Francisco Bay.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Jet Eliot, Terry Green, Athena Alexander, Calif. Historical Society.

Bodega Bay Sea Lions

March 22, 2024March 21, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 64 Comments

Our recent day at Bodega Bay was lively with birds and changing tides, highlighted by the sea lions. They are known for their intelligence and playfulness, and that day we watched a brief sea lion drama.

California sea lions (Zalophus californianus) are native to the North American coast. Here in California they can be seen along sandy beaches, rocky coves as well as on docks, wharves and jetties.

People like to watch sea lions; they are active and clever, boisterous and entertaining, and superb swimmers.

The fastest swimmers of all pinnipeds (flipper-footed marine mammals), California sea lions can reach speeds of up to 30 mph.

In Bodega Bay there is a small dock behind The Tides Restaurant close to the water. Due to the commercial fishing boats and next-door commercial fishing dock, there is always something going on back here with sea lions and sea birds.

Sea lions feed on fish, the docks and boats deal in fish, so it’s a naturally good spot for this resourceful pinniped.

This is the commercial dock next door.

Here is The Tides restaurant…

…and the small dock below where we watched the drama unfold.

All sea lions are protected mammals, so observing is all we do. Of course, no feeding or harassing.

When we visited in the afternoon, around 3:00, there were four sea lions hauled out on the dock, contentedly sleeping. Three of the four are big males and, as you can see, they have scars from living active lives.

Everything was fine until a fifth sea lion came along, wanted to haul out onto the dock–a young male.

Adult and subadult males have a bony bump on their crest, and it’s usually crowned with tufts of lighter hair. The males get these starting at 4 years old, and the bump is fully developed by 7 years old. Underneath is a ridge of bone running along the top of the skull, called a sagittal crest.

Below you can see an older male with a pronounced sagittal crest.

You can also see his little ear. They are classified as eared seals in the Otariidae family, and have the skill of closing their ears (and nostrils) when under water.

The interloper (we’ll name him Cheeky One) wanted to come up on the dock, but the big guy, an older male, wasn’t having any of it. They have a hierarchal society and Big Guy was clearly the dominant male.

He barked and barked his disapproval. You can see Big Guy on the far right, barking.

For about ten minutes, Cheeky One would try to get on the dock, then swim away, then try again. He was always vigorously barked at by Big Guy.

Sea lion barks are really loud. We couldn’t hear ourselves talk.

Here’s an audio clip from Discovery of Sound in the Sea.

We watched attentively, and so did this harbor seal, below. It seemed to all of us that this aggressive young sea lion and the dominant male were going to come to loggerheads.

Then it happened. Cheeky One energetically leapt out of the water and onto the dock. He landed right on top of another one, who was so sleepy he just waited for it to be over.

But this was upsetting to Big Guy, made very clear with continual barking.

Sea lions can use their flippers to “walk” and Big Guy “walked” over to Cheeky One and put all of his weight into pushing him right off the dock.

By that time Big Guy was so riled that he didn’t want anyone else on the dock.

Big Guy shoved up against each of the other three quieter sleeping ones and pushed them ALL into the water.

Each one of these sea lions weighs over 500 pounds (227 kg), so there was a lot of splashing and kerplunking and barking.

This territorial dispute was probably part of a lead-up to the breeding season that is coming up in a few months.

As we all know, territoriality goes on with mammals all over the planet.

The next time we go to Bodega Bay we’ll go to this pier at the beginning and of the day, just like we did this time.

And another lovely scene of sea lions or boats or gulls will entertain us on that day, too.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Bodega Bay Sights

March 15, 2024March 13, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 51 Comments

We had a great time at Bodega Bay last week. It was a day filled with briny sea air, changing tides, high winds, squawking gulls and barking sea lions.

It’s a small fishing town located 50 miles northwest of San Francisco Bay, with a population of under 1,000.

When we arrived it was high tide. A large flock of marbled godwits (and willets) flew one way and then the other–that technique shorebirds have, staying in synchronicity. The godwits have a pink hue that make them recognizable from a distance.

The marbled godwits are large sandpipers and special to see because they’re only here for the winter months. In summer they breed on the northern Great Plains. Here is one up close.

Our first stop was at The Tides. It is a complex with a restaurant, gift shop, grocery shop and bathrooms. We tromped past all that and headed for the dock behind the building, to see if the sea lions were out.

Early mornings they are often out, and the commercial seafood place next door is busy cleaning fresh-caught fish and hosing down their dock. Fishing boats are out, the world of fishing is alive. So there’s often a lot going on around these back docks, especially if the fish cleaners are throwing discards into the water.

We were in luck that day, four sea lions had hauled out onto the small dock.

But it was a comparably quiet day. The sea lions were mellow that morning, enjoying the sunshine. We have had a lot of rainy days lately, so when the sun comes out, we all pause in the warmth and soak it up. Even the sea lions.

Gulls, grebes, loons and cormorants enlivened the scene.

Heading next to see what other birds we could find, it was obvious with the water so high that the mudflats were submerged and the shorebirds would not be as visible now from the road.

Instead, we watched an unusually large number of buffleheads bobbing in the water. They’re another winter migrant. They don’t congregate in flocks but there were many pairs scattered across the bay.

We came upon two other birders and we all agreed, happily, that it was “a bufflehead day.”

The winds were strong and some waves were white-capped.

This town changes on an hourly basis due to the tides, so we moved on to a pond adjacent to the beach. There’s no tidal activity in a pond.

Hole in the Head. It’s an area on the opposite side of the harbor with a pond, parking area and small ocean beach. That day there were numerous fishermen at the nearby shoreline, a school bus of teenagers had unloaded for a hike, and a few other birders and photographers were reveling in the wildlife.

This area is named for the years in the late 1950s and early 1960s when Pacific Gas & Electric began construction here on a nuclear power plant.

Back then there was about five years of intense fighting and controversy, lawsuits, when local residents and environmentalists were waging war against the local power company and the building of a nuclear power plant.

The project was eventually abandoned, due to all the grassroots disapproval and the unfolding discovery that they were building it on top of an active fault line. All construction was aborted.

The hole they had dug, however, had already been built and reinforced. Over the years it filled in with rainwater, producing this pond, below, that is 70 feet deep.

It is all difficult to imagine unless you’ve dug through the newspaper accounts as I have, because today, over a half-century later, it’s quiet and birdy.

I found this photo, below, from Sonoma Magazine. It’s the power plant construction in 1963 and that big, reinforced hole in the center beside the big crane, is what the pond is today.

We watched a perched belted kingfisher in the distance and many other species of birds–shorebirds, raptors, songbirds. Heard nothing but fog horns and birdsong.

After a hearty lunch at one of the local fish shacks, we returned to the water’s edge and by then the tide had receded and a whole other world had opened up.

The center of the bay had become shallow and the muddy shorelines were now exposed.

The sand was dappled with clam holes and various seashells, and clammers were walking in the soft, wet, muddy sand.

Like the clammers, the shorebirds were digging for food.

We went back to visit the sea lions at The Tides before heading home, and we found them in a riled mood. There was even a sea lion fight.

I’ll tell you more about that next week.

The dock area that had been abundant with water in the morning now had exposed dock posts where shorebirds, ducks, waders and gulls were busy catching their meals.

Since our morning arrival, the sun had burned off the fog and warmed up the day. The sea lions were arguing loudly, the water had receded and every living being in the harbor had moved according to the water depth.

It’s all part of living with the tides.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Point Reyes Mammals

March 8, 2024March 6, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 49 Comments

We have had a lot of rain lately here in northern California (snow, further north), but last week we managed to squeeze in a visit to Point Reyes on a rare sunny day.

We saw a menagerie of wildlife and were lucky to see a lot of mammals– let’s start first with the elephant seals.

As many of you know, we have had the honored pleasure of watching hundreds of elephant seals (Mirounga angustirostris) on Drakes Beach since December. But now their mating and breeding seasons are over and it is time for the adults to return to sea.

This cow and her pup were here last week (below), as well as others, yet many adult females have left.

The adults haven’t eaten in several months, camped out at the beach, and they are hungry.

By the end of March, only the young ones will remain on the beach while they figure out how to swim and survive.

The photo below shows a biologist on the beach taking notes on the elephant seals. She is counting the number of elephant seals and noting their conditions. You can see how big the male elephant seal (center) is in comparison to her.

The adult males are beginning their migration north to feed along the continental shelf in the Gulf of Alaska. They consume bottom-dwelling prey like rays, hagfish and small sharks.

The females, who have given birth and fasted for 2-3 months, are now pregnant. They will not swim as far north as the males, preferring to forage in the open ocean west of Canada. Their diet is squid.

There were many young ones on the beach voicing their discontent this week at being without their mothers.

We found a group of four young elephant seals laying around at the opposite end of the lagoon. The older young male let the “little” young ones hang out with him. It was a thoroughly entertaining scene to observe.

This photo shows two of them–the older seal in the water–and a great egret.

Elephant seals have incredible lung capacity for their deep-dive foraging. The more experienced young male has his head completely submerged…this went on for so long we wondered at first if he was alive.

Then his head slowly turned when he heard the little ones struggling.

The little ones were hot and trying to make their way to the water, but they couldn’t move well. They would roll a little, then rest, then roll a little more. Eventually the two younger ones made it to the lagoon.

They do not know yet how to swim, but they gingerly dipped body parts. One tried to scoop water on his back, like the adults do with sand, but his flipper is merely a stub.

Elsewhere in the park we found two different pairs of healthy, hunting coyotes. There are 20 subspecies of Canis latrans, this one is the California Valley Coyote, Canis latrans ochropus.

We came upon this active pair, below, on the sand dunes near North Beach.

Tule elk were visible numerous times that day–sometimes close to the road and sometimes not. Primarily females. Cervus canadensis nannodes.

Several large elk herds live year-round at Point Reyes. At this time of year, they are grazing the fresh grass…quiet and harmonious.

Their rutting season (i.e. mating and breeding) will be August through October, when the males compete for dominance. We’ll be back for that excitement–lots of bugling and sparring.

Another mammal we saw a lot that day were the black-tailed deer. Odocoileus hemionus. They are a subspecies of the mule deer.

They, too, are enjoying the lush, nutrient-filled green grass. This species is common at Point Reyes.

We saw all this in one day!

I’ve shared four Pt. Reyes mammal species with you today–one marine mammal and three land mammals.

Migratory birds will be leaving Pt. Reyes soon when the weather warms, and the whales will be migrating through soon.

But for now, we enjoy whatever beautiful creatures come before us.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Winter Thrushes Everywhere

March 1, 2024February 29, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 67 Comments

All the winter thrushes are here in Northern California for the winter and a beautiful sight to enjoy every day.

American Robins are a celebrated harbinger of spring for many Americans, but here in Northern California and other temperate states, we enjoy a flurry of robins throughout the winter.

Sometimes flocks of 50-100 can be seen high in the sky. In this photo below you can see a flock of approximately 40 before they landed to join several dozen robins already in the trees.

Much of the time we see them on front lawns…the classic robin sight.

There is something about robins and Americans that make the American Robin a much-loved bird.

I could go on about them here, but I want to show you three other thrush species who join us for the winter.

In winter, hermit thrushes can be seen in much of the U.S. south and the west coast. We have an individual who shows up in our garden every day, below.

Like other birds in the Turdidae family, these thrushes are often seen close to the ground. They hop, peck, hunt for insects and occasionally flick their tail while perched. When it is too cold for insects, they are in the bushes plucking berries.

This hermit thrush below was making its way across a toyon bush, one berry at a time.

Like the robin, hermit and varied thrushes migrate north to their breeding grounds in spring. Their melodious songs, therefore, are not heard here in the winter. We hear their calls, but not their songs.

Once in a while there’s a free-thinking robin who decides not to migrate, but most of their species, Turdus migratorius, migrate away when the weather warms.

The varied thrush is another special bird that joins us for the winter. Unlike the hermit thrushes and robins, varied thrushes are a western bird.

I have seen or heard varied thrushes almost every day this winter, something I think is so very fortunate. Ixoreus naevius.

Usually solitary and skittish, they can be seen along the creeks or in the woods.

Varied thrushes have a two-toned call that is so unique it stops me in my tracks. With two sets of membranes and muscles in the vocal organs, it enables the bird to sing two different notes at the same time.

Here is a recording of their two-toned call, below. I also hear a flock of robins in the background.

Audio Recording of Varied Thrush, from Xeno-Canto.org

They can often be overlooked as “just a robin” because they are the same size and similar colors as the American Robin, but there are distinctive markings that make this bird different.

Lastly, a fourth thrush we have here in Northern California, the western bluebird, stays with us year-round. Sialia mexicana. Many folks are surprised to know that bluebirds are in the thrush family.

By springtime they are building their nests and preparing for new broods, but for now they are seen in pairs or flocks of 6-10, fluttering and flashing their sky-blue colors.

To use the lyrics from “Rockin’ Robin,” our thrushes rock in the tree tops all day long, hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and a-singing their song.

Not only do they rock in the treetops all day long, but they also bathe with abandon in the puddles and scatter about chirping when the rains have stopped.

Rockin’ thrushes.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Lyrics by Leon Rene.

You Tube “Rockin’ Robin” by Bobby Day.

The Beauty of Leaping

February 23, 2024February 22, 2024 / Jet Eliot / 65 Comments

Next week we have the opportunity to celebrate leap day. Here are some jumping, hopping, leaping wildlife to remind us of this buoyant phenomenon.

Green-and-Black Poison Dart Frog, Costa Rica

The creature I have personally observed jumping the most is our local resident, the western fence lizard.

I love to watch leaping lizards.

They jump two and three times farther than their body size–skitter and hop and run and zip across the rocks with skill and ease. This one, below, liked the heat of our patio umbrella stand.

Frogs and toads are leapers too. They are sensitive to movement, and guarded, so you often have to stand still and wait for them to jump to reveal themselves.

This Pacific chorus frog, below, was beside a pond near our house. They are so small that two of them could fit in the palm of your hand. We didn’t see it in the murky debris until it hopped.

A frog’s leg muscles account for over 17% of the total mass of its body. This spring peeper photo below demonstrates that well.

On the other side of the world in Australia, the kangaroos and wallabies are some of Earth’s biggest hoppers.

They hop with the aid of large, stretchy tendons in their hind legs and their balancing tool: the tail.

You can see the long feet and tail on this Agile Wallaby, below…perfectly built for long hops.

Monkeys are leaping masters in treetops, running effortlessly along the limbs or swinging arm over arm through tree canopies. When a monkey reaches the end of a branch, it sails airborne to the next tree.

Vervet monkeys are especially agile with their long legs and semi-prehensile tails, like this one below.

Black-and-white colobus monkeys, below, are a marvelous sight to behold in the trees. When they’re moving, they are so fast that it’s just a blur of black and white.

Deer and antelopes are some of Earth’s most graceful leapers.

The long, endless expanses of African savannah offer an array of ferocious cats and therefore some of the best leaping antelopes we have on this planet.

They have legs and stamina built to outrun a wild cat and we see it often on the Serengeti.

Impalas, like this one below, can leap distances up to 33 feet (10 m).

We came across this mother oribi and her young one, below. You can see why the little one needs protecting–prime prey to a lion–and how important their sleek bodies and long running legs might someday be.

Another African antelope, klipspringers, leap across rocky cliffsides rather than grasslands. Their name translated in Afrikaans means rock (klip) leaper (springer).

We saw this pair from a distance deftly making their way across the cliff tops. Their unique ability to browse and habituate on rocky ridges is their protection.

There are so many leaping animals I can’t feature them all here, but I cannot leave out the hop-hop-hippity-hop rabbits.

Birds are hoppers too. Think of all the birds we see hopping on the ground in search of food. Robins, juncos, towhees, crows to name a few. Sure, they fly, but they do a lot of hopping too.

In countries of warm, equatorial temperatures where ants are a major source of food, many ant-eating bird species hop around the rainforest floor foraging ant armies.

This ruddy woodcreeper, below, uses its tail and feet for clinging to trees and creeping up the wood, following ant swarms.

Flightless birds also do a lot of hopping.

The flightless cormorant evolved in the Galapagos Islands without the need for wings. We saw several pair hopping along the shorelines using their half-wings and webbed feet.

Similarly, penguins are flightless birds. You can see the webbed feet on the front penguin, used for stabilizing on the rocks.

And lastly, of all the leaping animals that abound on this planet, marine mammals can take to the air from the sea in breathtaking ways.

Dolphins have some of the most graceful leaps of all animals. They majestically leap out of the water and propel themselves upward using their tail flukes to push against the water, arching through the air, sometimes flipping or spinning, then gliding head-first into the water.

Next week when we have that one day that only happens every four years, let’s give a salute or maybe a jump for joy to our leapers all over this lively planet.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.