bridge Archives - Page 5 of 5

Fair Oaks Village Chickens

July 14, 2018July 14, 2018

Fair Oaks Village chickens are beloved and celebrated by many and scorned by some. Their squabbles, persistent calls to each other, and continuous patrols of Village streets and its two parks add character to the fabric of our community.

Residents and visitors take photos of chickens, feed them, and watch their antics while sitting at the park, an outdoor cafe or the Fair Oaks Deli. The Deli is one of the Village favorites for great food, company and entertainment. Cars driving through Fair Oaks Village stop and wait for chickens to meander across streets. Drivers wait, honk their horn and wait some more. Groups of two, three or four chickens often choose to linger in the middle of the street before crossing. They gather for conferences in parking lots and streets. These chickens tend to hang out in pairs or in a group – unless one has been chased away after a noisy squabble. When a chicken is alone, it crows even more.

During hot summer days, I see them resting in the shade of a tree in a park. They squabble, chase and call to each other. The biggest roosters have the longest and deepest calls. OO…OO…OO…OO…OOOO. The smallest chickens sound more like they are coughing with a scratchy throat. eh..eh..eh..eh..ehhhh…Even thin and scrawny, the smallest chickens behave as if they were the big roosters.

A chicken family lives on Bridge Street – a short street leading from the Village that ends at Fair Oaks Bridge. On one side of the street the rooster hides deep in bushes with mother hen and her five growing chicks. On the other side, two hens mingle with a small gray rabbit. The three of them emerge from the hillside lined with trees and dense shrubs at dawn and usually retreat into the hills by 730 am.

Almost every day I stand on Fair Oaks Bridge, one lone chicken calls good morning from Bridge Street, deeply hidden in bushes.

River at Peace

September 1, 2018September 1, 2018

Friday, August 31, 2018 640 am 57 degrees

Cool enough outside, I wear long sleeves. I cannot imagine cooler days. Seems that it has been so hot for so long! A few random chicken calls this morning in Fair Oaks Village. The chicken family on Bridge Street are always on patrol for food and scratching the dirt. Only two young chicks survived and they look more like little chickens instead of fluffy chicks now. The gray bunny comes out early in the morning and dusk when fewer people are around to bother it. I remember during one of my bridge visits, the rabbit was startled when I saw two careless hikers stumble and fall down the Fair Oaks Bluff trail, nearly flattening the rabbit.

Mornings are quiet here during the past few weeks. River is low and at peace. I have stood on the bridge deck many mornings. Some days are about the pure experience of being here – feeling the sense of peace, joy and escape. I enjoy the warm morning sun on my face. I have no new stories to tell or photos to share.

Four pigeons land on the Truss frame for moments at a time before they fly away. A lone boater floats upriver. Many people sit in fishing boats and stand on Jim’s Bridge. No idea what they are catching. Far too early for salmon to be swimming home yet.

Morning sun glows bright yellow against a cloudless sky. We have had very few clouds in recent weeks. Yesterday scattered cloud formations covered the sky. Morning sun shining on Fair Oaks Bluff casts a shadowy reflection in the river. A few ducks swim east of the boat launch ramp.

Wildlife Look for Salmon

October 25, 2018October 25, 2018

Thursday, October 25, 2018 720 am 48 degrees

On my way to Fair Oaks Bridge I see deep pinks reflected in clouds. By the time I reach the bridge deck, the pinks have faded away into a soft golden glow at the horizon. Bright white, wispy clouds are my first sights of the morning. Clouds reflect in the still water. I wear my hooded fleece jacket for the first time since the first months of the year.

Five boats line the river channel on the east side. Occasionally, I hear a splash, see concentric circles in the water and guess that salmon are jumping. Three ducks swim down the center of the river corridor.

One duck quacks relentlessly. I wonder if she is giving directions? Is she the one that quacked and quacked without taking a breath last January and February? She quacks and quacks without stopping. As I write she is still chattering without end.

I see concentric circles in the water where salmon are jumping. Every few minutes, another one leaps. Once the duck stops quacking, the birds started to sing. Today I see my first glimpse of mist rolling on the water around the bend. As I write, a Great Blue Heron flies in and lands on a rock on the east riverbank. Minutes after the Great Blue Heron appears, an Egret flies in, landing on the west side of the bridge.

Canada Geese, American River, Fair Oaks, mornings, — Canada Geese prints in dirt alongside the boat launch ramp.

Heart shaped in roses on the deck. Wondering what this meant to the one who created it?

A Quiet Swim

November 12, 2018November 12, 2018

Saturday, November 3, 2018 730 am 55 degrees

All is quiet this morning. Boats are gone. Phoebe calls from the top of Fair Oaks Bridge. I finally identified the bird that greets me with Ti Too! Ti Too! I stand in the cool, moist air with no breeze. My hands are chilled. White clouds scatter across the sky reminding me of spilled milk. Clouds reflect in the American River. My camera’s eye sees the reflections more clearly than mine. Occasionally I hear a splash and look to see the concentric circles in the river – the sign of a salmon leap.

Where are the Buffleheads? I have yet to see even one swim through the center of the river channel, diving for breakfast.

A few ducks and a single Canada Goose swim downriver. Their wake extends half way across the river. Five Canada Geese fly silently overhead heading west. Then the Phoebe calls again. It is the only sound this morning besides the hum of Sunrise Blvd. traffic about half mile to the west.

A Postcard Morning

December 16, 2018December 16, 2018

Thursday, December 13, 2018 710 am 41 degrees

As I walk down Bridge Street I see a chicken and rooster pair searching for food. I see no growing chicks with them. First there were five little peeps. Later only two followed behind. Weeks later, I saw only one small hen scratching the ground with them. Today the pair is alone. I wonder if their chicks died at the paws of a predator, from dehydration or not enough to eat?

Pale orange stripes of clouds cross the sky at sunrise. Higher cloud cover blankets the sky in small round puffs revealing patches of blue sky through the openings. Are they dots and dashes of code or cotton batting stretched out? White clouds reflect in the river below. Mist rolls along the surface of the river and around the bend.

I disturbed a Great Blue Heron standing on the water’s edge of boat launch ramp because I stood too close. It scolded me with a chortle while flying to the opposite riverbank.

A single gull circles over the river in front of me several times and then flies east around the bend. Four ducks fly in from their hiding places and ski into the water. Everyone is looking for breakfast. Today I see three dead and decaying salmon lying at the end of the ramp. This is the first week I have smelled the scent of decaying salmon in the air. I expected this fishy smell to saturate the air weeks ago. On my walk back to Fair Oaks Bridge, I hear the distant call of a rooster roaming on Bridge Street.

A Noisy Morning

March 25, 2019March 26, 2019

Sunday, March 24, 2019 710 am, 43 degrees

Chickens wander Bridge Street calling out their wake up songs. Today was another chilly morning when my breath flowed through the air. A pair of fishermen launch their boat at the same time the sun rises over the trees to gently warm the morning. Thin white clouds hang in the sky like a veil over a soft, pastel colored sky.

As signs of Spring emerge, I see life at the American River in motion once again. Spiders spin webs on the side rails of Fair Oaks Bridge. Birds actively greet the morning with a chorus of tweets, rattles and coos. Ducks swim to the center of the river corridor and dive for breakfast.

I see them dive in one spot and reappear some five or ten yards away. Ducks fly in and “water ski” on the river as they quietly splash down. Green grass growing in between every board on the bridge deck is slowly turning pale yellow. As I stand on the bridge watching the wildlife, runners and walkers pass enjoying an early day outside.

Canada Geese, ducks, guard, boat launch ramp, American River, fishermen, eat, boat, battle, squabble — Canada Geese guard their place on boat ramp

The arrival of several pairs of Canada Geese dominated morning activity with their loud honks and territorial squabbles. Another pair arrived every few minutes. All of them are in constant motion, continuously honking for most of an hour. A single goose stands on the concrete pier of Fair Oaks Bridge watching the scene, calling to everyone as they arrived.

After last week’s episode when the goose was rudely shooed off the pier as a pair arrived, I wondered if it was calling, “Find some other place to rest, I am not moving this time!”

Some geese perch at the top of the bridge truss. Others settle into the water. The first pair to arrive stake their claim on the boat ramp and the water directly in front of it. When another pair land in their claimed space, one goose rises up, flaps its wings, honks and shoos them away until the pair swam elsewhere. These unwelcome geese eventually fly away to a different part of the river. The original pair stand guard at the boat ramp.

I watch as each pair of geese arrives, they splash down in the river or wander to the riverbank nearby the Fair Oaks Bridge. Moments later, the geese rise up to circle east of the bridge, land on the Fair Oaks Bluff for a few seconds, take off again, and continue their circular flight before settling back down again into the water – honking all the way. The pairs repeat this pattern of flying in circles over and over again. As soon as a new pair geese land in the water, the first unfriendly pair quickly chase them away.

I wonder do they get a better view of breakfast swimming in the water as they swim overhead? Or are they stretching their wings and warming up?

Ducks are the only quiet ones this morning. I watch pairs fly in and swim as they emerge from evening hiding places. Paying no attention to geese squabbles, they arrive without a sound and swim near the riverbank.