Tag: beauty

Rocky Remnants of a Fisherman’s Island

Friday, August 11, 2017     845 am   68 degrees

Six Canada Geese greet me with a chorus of characteristic honks as I arrive at Jim’s Bridge by bike.
squirrel, American River, American River Parkway, trees, Fair Oaks Bridge, mornings
Searching for breakfast

They join a dozen other ducks already scouting breakfast on the rocky shoreline. True to their nature the geese are late arrivals for the morning ritual. Squirrels are busy finding their breakfast in the trees.

American River, rocks, marker, Fair Oaks Bridge, monrings
Other ways to mark a place at the American River.

During a quick trip to the boat launch ramp, I see no waterfowl anywhere. No fishing boats sitting in the American River. Today I continue my ride east toward the Nimbus Fish Hatchery. This is the prime salmon spawning area come late September through early December. I used to see a dozen ducks bobbing in shallow rapids for food as I ride by. None today.

cormorant, American river, Fair Oaks Bridge, monrings, wings
Sitting on the rocky remnants of the fisherman’s island in the center of the American River corridor.

I arrive at the picnic area at the river’s edge, far off the bike trail, where last fall I saw 100 seagulls feasting on dead salmon. The small island located in the middle of the river channel that was big enough for fisherman to anchor their boats and stand alongside them in hip deep water is now two thin and barely visible stretches of rocks.

Cormorant, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, monring, wingsI spy a cormorant sitting on a rocky island hanging its wings to dry in the early morning air. It stands motionless for 10 minutes before flying away. I see ducks hide alongside green shrubbery of a nearby island jutting out from the western riverbank.

Except for an occasional distant quack from a lone duck, this area is quiet today. Here I am far away from homes hanging on the Fair Oaks Bluffs, traffic and people congregating on shorelines. I hear a distant hum from another roadway bridge alongside the fish hatchery, less than a mile and completely out of sight.

With no homes on the opposite shore, I see a mix of oaks, shrubs and grasslands. I could say they are in a natural and undisturbed state. Little along the river channel was left untouched during winter floods. Remnants are still visible everywhere along the river.

underwater tree, American River, debris
Remains of trees swept and underwater during winter flooding. These rest alongside the shoreline in shallow water.
sign underwater, American River, flood, debris
A fallen sign loosened during the winter flooding rests in shallow water near the shoreline.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chickens Greet the Day

Wednesday, August 23, 2017   630 am 65 degrees

Fair Oaks Village, chickens, roosters, sing, symphony, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River
Good morning Fair Oaks!

 

The chickens are singing loudly this morning! Their symphony carries on and on from one tree to another – everyone hiding and singing. This pair took their turns listening and singing.

Two early morning hikers slid down the steep trail from the Fair Oaks Bluffs nearly falling on top of the surprised and annoyed rabbit in the photo. The rabbit scampers to this safer spot away from the trail and near a bush.

 

Those falling hikers were a rude start to my morning!

I arrive at Fair Oaks Bridge to cloudless sky with a faint smoky haze surrounding the rising glowing, yellow sun. Morning temperatures still feel cool. No breeze blows. The air is still. Last night the air was so filled with smoke, I shut all windows and doors. Today all traces of smoky scent are gone.

That mysterious foghorn sounds again this morning.

Four chickens scratch and peep on the opposite side of the road. Scratch. Scratch. Looking for breakfast. They walk away after a thorough search. No ducks emerge from the riverbank for their early morning swim. Pigeons are still in hiding. One flies in to rest on the bridge. Fishermen sit in their boats sit and wait. Some roam to the opposite side of the bridge for a better position.

I feel the sun heating up the air as the sun rises higher over the trees. The air feels heavy already. A few individual walkers and a lone cyclist are out. The water reflects the clusters of trees that cling to the shoreline as a mirror.

Today the only sound is the persistent traffic hum from Sunrise Blvd bridge and an occasional twitter from an unseen bird. I remember the single small bird that used to land on the overhead frame of the bridge last fall. It sang its good morning song each day I visit the bridge. I have yet to see or hear it.

A group of four ducks swim under the bridge. A second straight line of four ducks swim by. One sounds a morning call, “Quack…Quack…Quack.” No pigeons in sight. They have left white droppings on both sides of the bridge deck as reminders of their long residence here. Very slowly, the wildlife residents nearby Fair Oaks Bridge welcome the new day as the sun rises over distant trees.

In the Moment of Sunrise

Sunday August 27, 2017, 72 degrees, 615 am

From my front porch, I see a flaming glow of sunrise filtered by heavy cloud cover.
fire in the sky, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, morning, sunrise, writing, photo, nature, fisherman, boat, clouds
Clouds begin to spread as the sun rises. A lone fisherman watches and waits.

At 610 am, I force myself out the door to catch the early morning sights on Fair Oaks Bridge. Far too warm this morning! A breeze blows on my warming skin. The morning chicken symphony is long and loud, hiding in unseen trees. I am surprised by a loud call from a tree branch directly above my head as I open my car door to get out. A large white chicken is greeting the new day.

One duck squawks when I arrive at the bridge. Have not seen Canada Geese in many days. They may be wandering around the riverbank at Jim’s Bridge for their morning meal. Jim’s bridge is closed until September 1 to replace the broken fence from our winter flood, so I have not ridden my bike there to check the morning activity.

Why Do Pigeons Circle the Bridge Before Landing?

A dozen pigeons circle Fair Oaks Bridge several times and land on the overhead frame to rest. I still wonder if their flying in circles warms the air or their bodies before sitting down on a cold bridge to rest? pigeons, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, mornings, sunrise

I need to research this. Some don’t rest for long, they are up and flying about. At the faintest of movements, they rise up as a group in a flutter of feathers and fly away and return to circle again minutes later.

Another boater arrives to join the one already in the water. The owner eases it down the boat launch ramp and cruises to a prime fishing spot.

I watch a pair of ducks lazily floating under Fair Oaks Bridge. They look around and float with the current, with no effort. Another pair floats the opposite direction. One pair must be paddling, since the current flows in one direction.

The sun’s rays are glowing through the heavy cloud cover. Three boats sit still in the river and two fishermen stand out in the river corridor in this quiet river waiting for their catch of the day to emerge. The sun rises. The breeze blows softly. By the time I leave the bridge at 715, I can feel the morning air heating up and feeling heavy. Checking the temperature, it is 81 degrees.

 

Evening Shadows

August 30, 2017, 730 pm, 95 degrees

Heat still hangs heavy in the air. A gentle breeze passes by offering a sense of relief.

boater, fisherman, fishing boat, American River, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, salmon, shadows, sunset, darkness, river, ducks, swimmingShadows lengthen on both sides of the river. Sun is below the riverbank. The sky is ringed with a pale pink panorama. Is it smoke filled air or the varied pinks of the sunset?

Four Mallards swim at twlight, sharing the river with the two fisherman.

A boater sits, casting his line into the shadows. A few walkers cross Fair Oaks Bridge, glowing red with sunburn. Others out for an evening stroll. An exuberant cyclist proclaims “descent” on his way across the bridge. The white Pekin duck joins his friends for a float trip. Likely abandoned by its human family, the Pekin has found a new home.

A dog barks. The next sound I hear is a faint and distant chorus of quacks. A group of six ducks float under the bridge as the sun sets below the horizon and shadows turn into darkness.

Reflections on Wildlife

Sunday September 10, 2017, 630 am   68 degrees

From my front porch, I watch the orange glow of sunrise above towering trees and behind scattered clouds. 

sunrise, morning, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, ducks, fishermen, boatsA tiny bird greeted me this morning, with ‘Ti Too.”

I ride to Jim’s Bridge hoping to see a crowd of Canada Geese and ducks engaged in morning rituals and scavenging for breakfast. They hang out on the south side of the riverbank first. Often women come to feed them seeds. When alone, they poke at the rocky shore and swim in shallow water, looking for worms, insects and other morning nibbles.

So few waterfowl are swimming near the Fair Oaks Bridge and nearby boat launch ramp. It is disappointing to visit the bridge and see only boaters. The river today is home to no life beyond that. I remember the Egrets that sat on the north riverbank each morning and the Great Blue Heron that came for an occasional visit. I remember the Egret flying farther east to avoid the Heron as it arrived. I think back to when the Canada Geese and the Mallards fight over food and fight among themselves. Geese hiss and bite. Mallards quack and complain, then chase away who they don’t like.

I arrive at Jim’s Bridge and all the waterfowl are here! The abandoned Pekin duck has joined the Mallard families. Quack! Quack! Quack! The ducks are quietly waking up, swimming, cleaning, quietly poking their head into the water searching for a morning meal. Occasionally one duck will rant, Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack! and no one pays attention. The geese and the ducks are expecting a morning handout.

Mallards are so unlike chickens that call out to each other all day long, and call when no one is there to hear. When I hear ducks voice their opinions, no others respond.

In a moment, three ducks rise and fly quietly to the opposite shore. They are too far away and too fast to photograph. Watching them gives me a chance to take a big breath in, feel the chill on my skin. I look up in time to see 20 birds sitting on power lines above the Sunrise Blvd. bridge.

Temperatures are getting warmer already. I ride on to Fair Oaks Bridge. The parking lot for the boat launch ramp is filled with pickup trucks and utility vehicles equipped to tow their boats. I count seven boats in the river, all on the east side of the bridge. I see nearly as many fishermen on the American River as there are ducks.

ducks, American River, swim, ducklings, waterA mother duck leaders the way for her two young ducks. They casually swim by boats, leaning trees and those uprooted and fallen into the river. They pause their morning a few moments before moving on. So many birds twitter, unseen. So many times, I see feathers on the ground. I pick them up and wonder how did the birds or the chickens or even an owl lose their feathers? Was it a battle or an argument? Or was losing a feather a natural part of their growth? How do birds lose their feathers?

I believe that ducks, geese and birds exercise far more patience than people. People are often in a rush to get anywhere –  pack in as much into the day as possible before  dropping off to sleep or not even sleep. Waterfowl take their time to swim, to play, and to clean their feathers…and of course, finding food. A duck’s days are for sunning, sleeping, eating, relating to other ducks.

I sit here and wonder what is my role in helping to preserve this peaceful spot where wildlife can thrive?

If more of us sat down to wonder about the miracles of the natural world, would we enjoy more forward thinking environmental concerns and actions? Would more collaborative actions and few disagreements make a bigger difference? I am surprised at how many are just passing through, not noticing the scope of what is here. Envisioning a positive future is rarely a casual visitor’s first thought.

 

 

 

 

Wonder and Joy

Sunday, September 10, 2017    840 am

Each day is a mix of wonder and joy!

I arrive back at Fair Oaks Bridge after a bike ride on the American River Parkway. I rode to the San Juan Rapids one mile or more downstream to the west. I stop to enjoy the view at my farthest destination for the day. No wildlife here, no people, cyclists pass.

Rivers are complicated. They provide so many benefits and serve so many needs. By regulating flow levels, the river can meet the needs for healthy habitats and retain water quality for all.

Fair Oaks, Fair oaks Bridge, American River, ducks, wonder, joy, morning
Duck dunks its head in the water scavenging for food.

As I arrive at the bridge, I continue to see cyclists pass. One carries a small dog tucked inside her sweatshirt. Others walk dogs, large and small. Many people walk on the bridge and very few pause for even a moment to look to one side or the other. I marvel each morning at the scenic panorama and mysteries of the natural world I am part of.

This feeling of wonder and joy appears lost on many others.  Visitors who pause to watch and those hold cameras are on the bridge to be observers. I engage in conversation about when they come and what they see and learn more about the river and its history.

 

Morning of Peace on Sept. 11

September 11, 2017   620 am   72 degrees

Enjoying the serenity of the morning on Fair Oaks Bridge, I am very conscious of the time and place – on this             anniversary day of the disaster that rocked the country to its core.

sunrise, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, peaceful, fishermenI arrive at Fair Oaks Bridge with the morning light still in shadows. I hear a single chicken boast his wake up call. A cool breeze blows. The air feels crisp, even at 72 degrees. The sun is emerging. A scattered orange glow of excitement for the new day spreads across the sky.

As tired as I sometimes feel waking up in the morning, the cool air, the scenic views from Fair Oaks Bridge always wake me up. I wake to the sound of enduring and hidden chickens, sight of radiant orange sunrises, and the touch of gentle breezes.

A lone fisherman waits on the river. A second one prepares to launch. Three Canada Geese fly silently high over the bridge heading west. Many walkers are out early this morning. A third boater arrives and launches. A lone chicken continues its solo. A full chorus of birds sing unseen in the distance when the chicken pauses its song.

I see something emerge from the water – a salmon, a otter, a duck, a beaver? Movement is too sudden to get a good look. With the glow of sunrise faded away, deep gray shadows hide morning clouds stretched like spun sugar.Read more

Great Blue Heron Returns

Thursday, September 14, 2017, 620 am  64 degrees

 It is barely dawn and cloudy. Will there be a sunrise today? A strong, cool wind blows and street lights  still aglow.

Chickens hidden in trees for their night’s rest are calling out this morning in rapid succession. Today, instead of wearing shorts, sandals and a t-shirt, I wear jeans. Two cyclists pass with headlights flashing as the night passes and morning emerges. Three cars pass me on the street. The Hot Yoga studio lot is completely filled and double stack parked. As I approach the bridge, the sky is still cloudy gray.

One lone chicken hides in bushes on Bridge Street and calls out good morning to no one. It continues to call out most of my morning on Fair Oaks Bridge and I wonder who else is listening?

spider web, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, Great Blue HeronHaven’t checked for spider webs on the bridge for several visits. I find a huge web without its spider.

Four fishermen sit on the east side of Fair Oaks Bridge waiting. Another fisherman backs down the ramp.  I see a flock of Canada Geese fly over in complete silence, flapping wildly.

Two photographers set up their cameras on tripods to capture the sunrise and the wildlife of the river. All I can see are boats sitting quietly. The chicken is still calling and waiting for someone or something to respond. Ducks have yet to emerge from a night’s sleep. The day brightens. There is no sun anywhere. Pigeons coo from a distance unseen. The chicken is still crowing.

I am watching the river and see a Great Blue Heron fly in – first of the season. It blends with the colors of the river and I can barely see it from the bridge.

Great Blue Heron. Faor Oaks Bridge, morning I walk down to the boat launch ramp and the Heron stands watching the river in a frozen pose. Then it flies off, chortling, to the opposite (north) shore and lands on the riverbank.

Ducks swim. I brought no food. I need to bring something next time. Mallards swim peacefully. They search for breakfast, clean their wings and watch the river.

As fishermen continue to float by, any traces of early sunrise are gone. Cloudy, gray skies cover the sun.

Diverse Wildlife Wait for Salmon

Friday, September 15, 2017, 630 am    62 degrees

What a beautiful morning!

A soft orange glow peeks behind clouds. Cool, moist air leaves dew on my windshield. I wear jeans and need two layers of shirts for the first time. Clouds stretch the eastern sky in wisps as the sun casts a pale glow behind them.

diverse wildlife, morning rituals, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, pigeons,
Fair Oaks Bridge is a Truss Bridge completed in 1909. As many as 40 pigeons rest here each morning.

One lone boater sits near the end of the river. Three boats sit a few yards away from Fair Oaks Bridge engaged in conversation. This morning I see more boats on the river than waterfowl.

Ducks greet the morning with their persistent quacks. Pigeons sit in their usual spot. Other birds join them.

I see the Great Blue Heron return to the boat launch ramp this morning. My second sighting. It stands on the boat launch ramp watching the river, rises up with a chortle and flies to the opposite riverbank. A few minutes later, it returns to the south side of the river, this time landing at the water’s edge a few yards from the bridge and walks the edge until I can no longer see it. I suspect this arrival at 630 will become a morning ritual for the season. I wonder what the Great Blue Heron will find to eat this morning?

Diverse wildlife returning to the Fair Oaks Bridge is yet another sign of the changing season and expectation that salmon will be arriving soon.

fishing, fishermen, salmon, American River, Fair Oaks, diverse wildlife, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, patience, waiting, water, chillExcitement builds on the American River waiting for the salmon to come. Now four boats line the river and three cluster around the bridge. Everyone sits and waits. Some stand in the water past their knees and watch for movements. Kayaks arrive and launch. A group of Mallards emerge from hiding to greet the passengers.

It amazes me that fishermen can rise long before dawn to launch their boats and sit or stand for hours on the river waiting for a tug on their fishing pole. I imagine that being at the river in this especially quiet place slows people down and willing to wait for nature’s time.

I wonder with all the rains and flooding and disruption of habitat, with the warming climate, will there be enough salmon to last a full season this year? Will there be enough to feed the wildlife, to supply the fisherman, and for all the other places and people hungry for salmon on their menu? I continue to wonder about the long-term survival of the salmon with so much other life depending on them.

Two Canada Geese fly swiftly overhead. I imagine they plan to travel long distances because they are so much higher in the sky than I usually see them. The sky is striped with jet streams left by distant unseen airplanes.

A cyclist passes me. He looks sideways and says, “Beautiful,” and races away.

A loud noise erupts from the Sunrise Blvd. bridge and 30 pigeons react with their own eruption of feathers flying immediately to the sky, circling the bridge and vanishing. I have yet to discover why pigeons are so nervous, or why they fly in circles only to land again moments later. I witness this event every time I visit the bridge, so it must be their morning ritual. In the afternoons, only a few pigeons sit on the bridge.

diverse wildlife, Mallard, salmon, American River, water, Fair Oaks Bridge
Morning meditation

Still the day is extraordinarily quiet. The river is very low. Canada Geese have been conspicuously absent from the river lately. Usually they are the late arrivals. For weeks, I have seen them fly overhead and very few land. They are usually feeding at Jim’s Bridge or farther west on the river

By 7:20 am, the sun has risen above the trees on the south shore and I feel its warmth as I walk off the bridge. On the north shore trees, I catch a shadow of the bridge and myself standing on it. I have a few moments to take one quick photo before the sun rises further and the shadow vanishes.

Beavers Swim at Daybreak

Monday, September 18, 625 am 60 degrees

Some mornings hold more “magic”  than others. Today is one of those magic mornings.

sunrise, mornings, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, American River Parkway, nature, writing, wildlife, walkers

The air is laden with chill instead of heat. Dense morning clouds hold the bold, vibrant colors of sunrise at the break of dawn. For nearly an hour I watch the colors change as the sun emerges from the horizon. My view from the Fair Oaks Bridge is a full circle of color. The intense, burning oranges and grays in the east spread north and south, fading to white and pale blue in the western sky.

I imagine that walkers, cyclists and fishermen are the ones who seize this opportunity to enjoy this daily display of one of nature’s miracles. Do wildlife enjoy this morning spectacle?

Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, chickens, skinny, morning, American River, Bridge Street, breakfast, beaver, river, wildlifeMy favorite mornings are those when I listen to a choir of chickens sing still hidden in the trees where they sleep. Without any visible conductor, they call out their good morning songs to one another in rapid succession. As dawn breaks and the day brightens, chickens patrol the park and village streets crowing loudly where ever they go. Some chickens are robust with loud strong “ERR, ERR, ERR, ERR!” The skinnier, smaller chickens sound hoarse. “Er…Er…Er…Er.”  It is the smaller chickens that roam Bridge Street trees, plants and curbs scratching for breakfast and repeatedly calling out to no one for about 30 minutes after I arrive on any morning.

One this day, six bicyclists have crossed Fair Oaks Bridge shortly after I arrive.  630 am and the bridge is crowded with people! Morning temperatures are dropping into the 50s and 60s. I wear blue jeans, and a lightweight denim jacket and sneakers. A light breeze blows and I feel the air heavy with chill instead of the heat that roasted the air all summer long.

Three fishing boats are sitting in the river quietly waiting. I have seen one person catch a fish. The salmon are coming. Fisherman catch the early arrivals.  Water level of the American River is the lowest I have seen it all year. Could this be because the salmon need the shallow water to spawn?

Pigeons take their stations on the overhead frame. Two of them perch on the outside edge of the bridge, watching the river. None stay for long. The slightest movement, the faintest sound, they fly up and away in an instant. A tiny bird greets me with “Ti Too! Ti Too!” from its place at the top of the bridge.

Where is the Great Blue Heron this morning? I may be too late to see its patrol from the boat launch ramp to the north side and back with a chortle to the south riverbank. Canada Geese are flying high overhead. I imagine they are flying a distance without stopping. Another boat arrives and backs down the ramp. Mallards are still sleeping.

beaver, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, wildlifeMy first time seeing a beaver swimming in the river! I walk to the north side of the bridge to follow it and and see two more! My two photographer friends are here this morning. They point out a man climbing down the near vertical slope of Fair Oaks Bluffs. Why? How? We have no idea.

Two more groups of Canada Geese fly over. Then 30 runners cross the bridge together out for an early morning sprint. The sun finally emerges over the clouds, but the sky remains a flat gray.

shadow, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, sunrise,

 

As I walk off the bridge, I see my shadow moving through the trees on the north riverbank. This unexpected shadow play lasted about two minutes before the sun changed position and vanished.

Morning temperature rose to 66 degrees. Chickens are still calling “Good morning!”