I arrive long after the brilliant orange glow of sunrise has faded from the sky. No chickens are up yet to call their good morning songs. So many birds I hear, yet do not see. The bird singing the calliope tune, others chirp and hiccup.
Winter mornings are quiet here. Seagulls stand on the boat launch ramp and call out to others that can hear. I watch several seagulls fly a few feet over my head as they cross the bridge in wide, sweeping circles.
As I hear the calls of seagulls, I wonder if they are asking, when will it be time to leave the river? Or, is there salmon left to eat here?
There is no clue here of the hustle, bustle activities of days before Christmas here. The parking lot behind the boat launch ramp filled with pick up trucks and other vehicles to tow fishing boats is near empty. The sound of a distant quack carries in the gentle breeze. Resident Mallards prepare to mate to produce spring ducklings. I see pairs of ducks bob their heads in unison each time I come signaling their interest in mating. Goldeneyes reside at this spot on the American River during fall and winter.
I see an Egret fly in and land on the riverbank at the foot of Fair Oaks Bluffs. Egret sightings are rare these days of winter. Their search for food takes them away from this part of the river.
Pigeons walk the deck of Fair Oaks Bridge searching for crumbs or seeds or remains of a sandwich, cookies and other food left behind.
I arrive at dawn to catch the sunrise, dressing snugly in my hooded jacket, long pants, long socks and gloves. Today’s icy wind is just enough to keep frost off car windows and grass. Frost coats the bridge deck and I feel its slippery surface beneath my feet. One duck braves the cold for an early swim back and forth across the river.
Why is the sun bright yellow when looking at it in daylight; yet at sunrise and sunset, we see shades of orange from pale pastel to dark and fiery?
Every morning brings a new set of cloud formations and different ways to diffuse and reflect the sun’s brilliance. Today clouds are woven as if they were a heavy gray blanket hanging over the river. Patterns of light change and spread as the sun edges closer to the horizon, painting the sky at dawn with brilliant colored light a full 30-40 minutes before the sun shows itself.
So cold this morning, the chickens are still sleeping in the Village. They have yet to utter a sound.
I hear no shouts good morning walking past the park and the trees that provide nighttime shelters for so many Village chickens. Three chickens scratch and complain searching for breakfast a few yards from the bridge entrance – their favorite hangout.
The bridge deck is covered with white, slippery frost. Clouds above me resemble spun sugar in shades of gray and soft white. As the wind blows, they stretch into thin wisps of white. Fog washes over the eastern section of the American River. As with other days, I watch as the mist rolls down the river channel and under the bridge. On this particular chilly morning, mist is still sitting on the river well beyond 9 am when I prepare to return home.
Visiting the American River at Fair Oaks Bridge is a gift to enjoy and share. The most impressive days of winter for me are the peaceful mornings listening to seagulls call and seeing them soar gracefully through the sky, following fiery orange sunrises, and watching the fog as it blankets the river and reflects golden sunlight through the trees.
Fog blankets the eastern section of the American River at Fair Oaks Bridge and rolls slowly west. Boat launch ramp is on lower right side of photo.
Each day brings a new cloud formation, each day a new way the wind blows them apart to create a kaleidoscope of color at dawn to announce the new day. I love watching fog blow slowly down the river. I stand watching in amazement at the way fog bathes and nourishes the Fair Oaks Bluffs and the sun’s yellow light shining through the trees along the American River Parkway. When I walk to the boat launch ramp, I see how the fog surrounds the Fair Oaks Bridge and drifts slowly west beneath the deck.
Seeing Fair Oaks Bluffs shrouded in fog reminds me of “Brigadoon,” that magical, mysterious place that emerges out of the fog once every few years.
I think of Peter Pan’s Neverland where fairies and other magic is commonplace. This is a place of peace where you can hear the distant call of seagull and see birds emerging slowly out of the fog. Two ducks swim in the center of the river. All others are still in hiding and come out much later when the temperature warms to 45 instead of 36 degrees. Many walkers are out this morning. First two, then two more, then two more all bundled up and enjoying the morning. A speeding cyclist passes by pedaling as quickly as possible.
Egret flies through fog on the American River alongside Fair Oaks Bridge
An Egret flies in and lands in its preferred spot on the riverbank beneath the Fair Oaks Bluffs. Soon there are two flying together and move on further downriver. I always marvel at its graceful flight and sleek, straight body.
Most of the seagulls, ducks and the Canada Geese have moved on farther downriver where food is more plentiful. I see more than 50 seagulls on the riverbank at Jim’s Bridge crossing and farther downriver. Canada Geese roamed the shoreline at Rossmoor Bar, an overlook and rocky beach two miles from Fair Oaks Bridge, popular for rafters and picnics.
This morning is the day for dueling chickens. One chicken calls and another answers.
One more calls and others answer, one at a time. “Are you awake?” “Is anyone up yet?”I hear them calling from many different sites around Fair Oaks Village and neighboring streets. None of them are out on patrol. It seems far too early and cold.
Rising sun hides behind a heavy curtain of clouds
On this frosty January morning, the soft yellow sun hides behind a heavy curtain of gray clouds. The American River and Fair Oaks Bluffs are lost in the fog. We have had many foggy mornings, yet little rain so far in December and the early days of this month. This time last year we were already in the midst of heavy, pounding rain that flooded the river and lasted all through winter. Where does that foghorn sound come from, I wonder?
Today, two fishermen sit waiting in their boat. No movement on their fishing lines.
A seagull interrupts the quiet of the river as it calls while soaring over me across the bridge to land softly on the water. Until that moment, the American River was calm and still – a mirror reflecting trees on the bluffs. I hear distant voices and see several people walking at the edge of the bluffs. What can they see of the panoramic view through fog? Three seagulls and three ducks swim quietly through the river near the boat launch ramp.
I meet and greet many walkers who visit this iconic bridge. I learn as much about the people of this bridge as the wildlife who live here.
One part of Fair Oaks Bluffs where walkers enjoy panoramic views of American River
Some walkers visit because they want to capture scenic photos or display the river as a backdrop for their family or wedding photos. Some come everyday to walk, some visit several times a week. People walk in pairs and bundle in jackets, hats and gloves. This morning I pass a group of more than a dozen women walking swiftly across the bridge. I bid two women good morning and ask if they are an organized group. They walk across the bridge every weekend to train for a 3-day, 60-mile walk to raise funds for Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer walk.
Cyclists whiz by – sometimes alone, often in groups. For most of them, the bridge is only a place to pass through to get somewhere else as fast as possible. They are the ones who miss the unique sense of place on this bridge. As one fisherman advised me last fall, “The best things in life are the ones you do slowly.”
In January, when most ducks are hiding in the riverbanks and winter chill and rain are reason for individuals to stay indoors, this is the most peaceful time of year.
Fair Oaks Village parks and neighboring streets become the daily setting for a rousing morning symphony led and conducted by resident chickens– all still in hiding for thenight. I stood beneath one “singing tree” for several minutes listening to their good morning songs. I see a chicken standing in the shadows of darkness, tangled in tree branches, adding its voice to the chorus.
A quick flyover Fair Oaks Bridge before a splashdown landing in the American River.
Heavy fog this morning and biting cold. Two Canada Geese zoom in from the east over Fair Oaks Bridge, loudly honking and honking. I hear them coming in the distance and they suddenly appear out of the fog. I catch a quick photo as they fly over.
Two more Canada Geese zoom in from the east honking loudly, as if they are engaged in an intense conversation. I wish I understood “goose speak.”
Maybe they are discussing directions or where to land. They make a quick U-turn, fly under the bridge and land with a splash near the boat launch ramp.
Ducks hide in shadows of reeds near the shore. Sun is hiding behind a thick curtain of fog. The air is bitter cold. A Bufflehead appears in the middle of the river, dunking and reappearing as it searches for breakfast in the deepest part of the American River. Four Canada Geese swim quietly. As runners, cyclists and walkers pass by I hear a “tap, tap, tap” on the bridge and then it stops. The rumble of traffic on the Sunrise Boulevard bridge carries in the wind. I look to the shoreline and notice many trees bent over so far, they are brushing the river, yet the remains of their roots are still attached.
Hiding in shadows during a morning swim
I wonder where are the turtles? Haven’t seen any in months.
I must be too late or looking in the wrong sites for the beavers and the otters. The Mallards are always here. No spider webs today on the bridge rails. No spiders anywhere. Where are they hiding?
Today I brought a few slices of bread to feed the ducks and they rush over anxious to eat. The Muscovy duck stands alone. All waterfowl keep a 10-foot distance. When I move quickly or walk closer to them, everyone flaps their wings in unison, flies up and heads for the safety of the river. More Canada Geese fly over the river. A lonely seagull flies in squealing. After a soft landing, the gull looks around. “Where is the food?”
As I begin walking back up the ramp to the parking lot, I hear the distinctive chortle of a Great Blue Heron as it flies along the opposite shore and then disappears into the fog. Even on clear day, the Heron is difficult to follow because its blue gray colors blend seamlessly into the hillside. An Egret makes its occasional appearance and flies past the boat ramp to hide in bushes upstream.
I marvel at every sighting of these impressive birds – especially intrigued at how much the Egret avoids contact with the Great Blue Heron and all other shorebirds.
Many days I have watched ducks dunking for food and swimming leisurely in the river in front of me. I look to the opposite shore and see the Egret perched on a rock alone patrolling for its own snacks.
It’s freezing out here. This morning’s chill is not the day for being curious, even though I can find so many things to imagine and wonder about at the river.
Two chickens are awake in Fair Oaks Village calling “Good Morning” to anyone who will listen. Clouds reflecting the pinks of sunrise scatter across the sky as the sun slowly rises in the east. Today thick fog on the American River is suspended in midair on both sides of the bridge, reminding me of thin strands of pink cotton candy. I watched from Fair Oaks Bridge as the mist gradually moved along the surface of the river under the bridge to its western side.
The bridge deck is solid white with frost and slippery. My shoes leave footprints on the deck. Several people dressed in jackets, gloves and hats brave the cold to walk, run and cycle. Two Canada Geese fly over in silence. One Bufflehead swims in the frigid water searching for breakfast in the river – preferring the deepest section in the center. It dives underwater and floats back up like a buoy several times over and over.
As the sun rises, the clouds scatter even farther apart, revealing a pale blue sky beneath. The sun peeks over the horizon and casts a bright light on the bridge. Ice crystals on the bridge’s side rails and deck sparkle like diamonds reflecting the sunlight.
The air is still cold! Before leaving the bridge I watch a seagull preening its feathers sitting on a tree branch bent so far down, it nearly touches the water — this is the same branch where turtles sunbathe during the summer.
Dozens of people are enjoying the beautiful weather on Jim’s Bridge. Scattered white clouds are barely visible. A year ago, this bridge was under at least six feet of water as a result of our relentless January rainstorms.
Today 50 seagulls circle a small island in a “flying frenzy.” They squeak, land and settle down. Others fly, land and fly off to circle the river and return. I see a few ducks walking the riverbank snatching crumbs of food. One Egret is tiptoeing along the bank away from the crowds.
Seagulls and ducks roam the shore looking for food. The Egret is just beyond the photo’s left edge.
Riding my bike today, I visit the spot where the bike trail overlooks a sandy beach area – a popular picnic spot for families and summer rafters. Another 20 seagulls rest here. Water moves swiftly over a wide expanse of smooth boulders and sandbars that shape the character of this part of the river – given the name San Juan Rapids. I have seen rafts and ice chests overturn more than once here. Today, the river is so low a father and his son stand in ankle deep water where sandbars and boulders are showing line one-third of the way across the river channel.
When I reach Fair Oaks Bridge, I feel overwhelmed by the number of people I see. The entire area surrounding Fair Oaks Bridge and the boat launch ramp is filled with individuals and families enjoying the afternoon. Inside of five minutes, 50 people have crossed the bridge. Cyclists take group photos. Others arrive with fishing poles. Ducks swim toward the center of the river, avoiding the people.
I do my best to ignore the people and focus on a complex spider web attached to the bridge rails. I watch the graceful flight of a seagull and notice how far its wings extend. My visit here is short.
I return to Jim’s Bridge to ride home. Seagulls are still flying in huge circles from the island to the Sunrise Blvd. Bridge and back again. I wonder if this a daily physical activity? Similar to when people walk, run or cycle? Ducks sitting on one side of the river rise into the air, flapping their wings as quickly as possible and land on the opposite shore. Usually that means they spotted a person to feed them. When two take flight, all the others soon follow.
A frantic day on the American River – I saw at least 200 people in 90 minutes on two bridges, the boat launch ramp and during my ride on the Jedediah Smith Memorial Bike Trail within the American River Parkway.
I arrive at Fair Oaks Bridge to see the Muscovy duck resting on top of the bridge frame.Not sure if it is admiring the view or escaping other ducks. After a short time of observation, it flies off the bridge to circle underneath several times before leaving the area.
The Muscovy is difficult to figure out. It is native to Mexico, Central and South America and somehow it arrived here alone and became a permanent resident of the American River in Fair Oaks.
Birds chatter. Honking Canada Geese appear and fly over the bridge and out of sight. I hear the distant quack of a duck that I suspect is the same whose persistence kept up day after day on each of my visits earlier in the year. What was she complaining about so vocally? Quacking and swimming without stopping for 10-15 minutes. I could hear her tiny voice more than 100 yards up or down river on any morning.
I see a group of Mallards arrive and land with a splash. They swim near the riverbank. The Buffleheads head for the center, diving where it is deepest to scout for breakfast. The Muscovy duck flies in and joins the Mallards for a swim.
Under dense cloudy skies and a chilling wind, a dozen small birds race in circles over and over again along the east side of Fair Oaks Bridge. One pigeon stares down at me standing on the large truss frame. Pigeons coo from under the bridge. They perch on a ledge underneath the deck for their own unobstructed view of the American River. Ducks and geese have yet to appear. One duck off in the distance greets the morning with a “Quack. Quack.” A quiet and calm morning. The emerald green water is still. A few cyclists pass by. No walkers. Wondering where the turtles go when they are not sunbathing on the branch?
My first sight of a Cormorant at Fair Oaks Bridge this year.Where are the otters hiding this morning? This photo taken in April.
As I enter Fair Oaks Village this morning, I stop the car to wait for a chicken to cross the street and join a friend in the center median.Chickens are calling from all parts of the Village. I see them in parking lots, on streets and hiding near bushes.
Impromptu morning meeting
A cool morning wind feels refreshing after a long and hot day. Glowing, hot yellow sun and a brilliant blue sky. No clouds anywhere.
I see a kayak launch into the water and watch the driver inside pressing foot pedals to move his craft around the river. The boat is filled with three people, a large bucket and other fishing equipment. Fishermen in their boats take positions in the American River for a morning of fishing.
Water level of the river continues to be slightly higher than a week ago. The river channel is relatively flat at Fair Oaks Bridge, so the water remains calm. A pair of ducks fly in and land with a splash out of sight under the bridge. Joggers and walkers pass – alone and in pairs. No one pauses to look over either side of Fair Oaks Bridge to enjoy the scenic views.
Why are all spider webs hanging on the east side of Fair Oaks Bridge?
A tiny bird greets me with its good morning song. “Ti Too! Ti Too!” as it stands at the top of the bridge truss looking down at me. I see no Buffleheads swimming and searching for breakfast. I can’t remember when I saw them last. When did they leave?
A dozen spider webs stretch across the bridge rails ranging in size from 9” across to a more compact 2”.
I rarely see spider webs hanging on the west side of Fair Oaks Bridge. Why do spiders spin their webs on the east side of the bridge and not the west?
Could web placement be related to the sun’s position in the sky? Is web construction related to where the shadows fall or the temperature of a specific place? Do insects prefer to fly about on the east side and not the west?
A loud fog horn blows. Long, loud and mysterious. What is that sound? Where does it come from? Few ducks are swimming. I wonder about the female Mallard who I heard quack relentlessly every visit in January and February. Where is she? Did she have ducklings?How can I even recognize her if she swims by me?
Winter mornings are quiet here. Seagulls stand on the boat launch ramp and call out to others that can hear. I watch several seagulls fly a few feet over my head as they cross the bridge in wide, sweeping circles.
I see an Egret fly in and land on the riverbank at the foot of Fair Oaks Bluffs. Egret sightings are rare these days of winter. Their search for food takes them away from this part of the river.
