Tag: Canada geese

A Cormorant Airs its Wings

Monday, July 10, 2017   8 am

A crowd of Canada Geese and Mallards are sitting at the foot of the boat launch ramp this morning, engaged in their morning rituals. Ducklings swim by. More Mallards fly in, arriving with a chorus of “quack, quack, quack.”

Cormorant, boat launch ramp, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, American RiverI watch carefully this morning as the ducks land in the water. They stretch out their legs at a slight angle, water ski as they touch the water for a second, then fold their legs and settle their bodies into the water. This morning I see a Cormorant with its characteristic yellow beak and huge wingspan. I have seen them now several times on my bike rides on the American River Parkway to Rossmoor Bar.

Coromorant, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, blat launch ramp, American River, morning, outdoors, nature, water, river
Airing wings to dry after flying

The Cormorant arrives at the boat launch ramp, ignoring all the other waterfowl. It stares out into the water, stretches its neck and spread one wing as if hanging it to dry. After a few minutes of airing its wing, I watch this new visitor to the American River walk back into the river and swim away.

Canada Geese arrive at the boat launch ramp, walking over to the ground behind the ramp, beaks down scavenging for breakfast bites. The geese always seem to be the last to come in the morning. Pigeons first, then Mallards, then the geese wake up and show themselves for breakfast.

I ride my bike to Rossmoor Bar and watch an army of ants crawl across the picnic table in view of the water. The sandbars are exposed once again and waterfowl rest on them. I sit and listen to the gentle sound of water rushing by at this place – the San Juan Rapids. I feel a cool breeze on my face. I watch the ducks swim in a small area of shallow water as geese stand guard on the sandbars.

Today, the river is relatively quiet. I rarely see rafters or kayakers. The snow in the Sierra has yet to melt and run down river. Will this area rage with floods again in the fall?

 

A Wild and Busy Morning

Saturday, July 22, 2017   7 am  68 degrees

 I hear what sounds like a foghorn repeated three times as I sit on Fair Oaks Bridge. What is that sound? Where is it coming from?

At Jim’s Bridge a few ducks are swimming and scavenging. I pass them by and ride on to the boat launch ramp where all is quiet.  One woman stands in a boat in the middle of the river channel and casts her fishing line. Birds are calling their morning song, even though I cannot see even one. I hear a chorus of tweets and rattles.  Pigeons roost on Fair Oaks Bridge.

Mallard, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, river, morning, water, feeding, feedOne Mallard approaches me waiting to receive handfuls of breakfast treats.  As it poses for me and waits for a bite to eat, we  both hear a quack in the distance. The duck raises it neck and listens for the sound. After a few minutes of waiting for me to throw food and discovering, I have none to give, the duck wanders back into the water.

Another day at the river without even a strip of white clouds in the sky. Looking carefully, I see faint wisps of white, as if an artist used a very dry brush on a pale blue canvas. I hear a chicken call from the distance. The calm waters enhance this peaceful scene.  Out of the quiet, a cyclist at high speed races by, rumbling across the bridge deck as he passes.

Half dozen Canada Geese patrol a distant shore. Still no Egrets. No Great Blue Heron. I search for them every time I come and they must have gone elsewhere where food supply is plentiful. No turtles today hanging out on a branch to sunbathe.

I hear a persistent cough coming from an unseen person hiding on the riverbank directly under the bridge. I have heard these coughs several times during morning visits to the bridge and rarely see the source.

woodpecker,American river,The sun is high in the sky. The morning temperature is still cool. I ride west on the American River Parkway to  my usual morning stopping point – a picnic bench on a bluff overlooking sandbars on the river.  No waterfowl there. No cyclists on the bike trail yet.

woodpeckers, American River Parkway, home, treeOn my ride home I look for the tall and long dead tree where woodpecker families call home. I see a family of four  flying from one branch to another, sitting, drumming, joining others, flying off again, sitting in a line. I focus in for a photo and they fly away again.

 

 

Canada Geese Glide into the River

Monday, August 7, 2017  740 am     68 degrees

Have you seen Canada Geese soar through the air changing altitude just before they glide in for a river landing?

kayaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, water, morning, fishing, Canada GeeseCrossing Jim’s Bridge by bike, I see less than 20 resident ducks on shore this morning. I ride on toward Fair Oaks Bridge. The sun’s warmth is already heating things up! A flurry of boat launching action is happening at the boat launch ramp. Some boats are pulling away and another boat is backing down the ramp. Kayaks show up next. Two fishing boats already sit on either side of the bridge. Fisherman begin the waiting game. One more month at the earliest before salmon arrive at Fair Oaks Bridge after a long swim up the Sacramento-San Joaquin Bay Delta channel. The determined fisherman wait.

The water glistens. The pale blue sky is without a wisp of clouds. Sun is high and far above distant trees. A few pigeons coo. No turtles sunbathing today.  No waterfowl activity here except for a single duck, “Quack, Quack” in the distance. It approaches the bridge from the west. The American River is so still, the lone duck creates its own expanded “V” shaped wake.

ducks, Canada Geese, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, evening, scenic, walk, observation, wildlifeCyclists begin to roll by. A few walkers stroll. No one stops to enjoy the view. Fair Oaks Bridge attracts a different crowd in the evening. Couples arrive on the bridge and stop to watch the water, the wildlife, the setting sun. Evenings tend to be more relaxed, casual and crowded.  I avoid times when the loud and disruptive “end of the party day” group leaves the riverbank.

As I return to Jim’s Bridge on my way home, I look up to see a sky filled with honking Canada Geese. They are maneuvering in the air – soaring downward and losing altitude, then rising again. Some geese turn and fly into the water for a splash landing. Others quickly fly away and disappear. I watch their morning antics before riding home.

River in Shadow

Tuesday August 8, 2017            745 pm 90 degrees

The air feels like the end of a warm day – and it is!

Chickens are calling to each other from the Fair Oaks Village. Some hide in trees. Others patrol the streets and Village Park. A few visitors come to walk on Fair Oaks Bridge. A few stop to admire the view. A boater lifts his boat out of the water, ready to leave the river. As I walk on the bridge, six Canada Geese fly swiftly overhead in their traditional “V” formation. A salmon (presumably) leaps up and out of the water three times. I see only a splash in place of the creature that created the effect.

American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, evening, shadows, twilight, water reflection
Shadows on the American River at twilight

As the sky darkens with the sunset, no sunlight casts glare down in the water. The river sits in shadows and its colors change to a rich, deep green – similar to that of deep green trees. Since the river is in full shadow, this color is not reflective of trees lining the riverbank.

Common in the evening, I see drunken young men and women staggering across the bridge. Today a very loud and rowdy skateboarder crossed the bridge several times uttering language that only the most rowdy care enjoying hearing it.

Trees hang on to the riverbank exposing their roots

 

 

Water is still tonight. The darkening sky is now tinged with a hazy, gray stripe stretching across the horizon. I watch four silent ducks swim and disappear under the bridge. Minutes later they have turned around and swimming back from where they came. A cool, gentle breeze blows against my face. The air is cooling off after the sun drops below the horizon. Sky is still void of cloud cover. In the deepening shadows of a long evening turning to dark night, I can see a long gray layer hanging over Sacramento to the west.

I am fascinated by trees with their tangled roots fully exposed on the riverbank, still clinging to fragments of soil as they continue to flourish.

The only sound I hear is the wind. Not a bird in the sky. My evening calm is rudely interrupted by the sounds of revving a distant car engine. Then I look out into the water and it is hard to tell. Is it the head of a river otter swimming by? Too small to be a duck. Salmon do not swim with their heads above water. Distant quacks sound in the warm evening air.

More people arrive, watching slowly and silently. As the sky darkens, the water loses it color and trans darker on the west side of the Fair Oaks Bridge. On the east side, the sun still reflects light, casting long shadows of trees along the shore.

boat, American River, twilight, fishing
Fishing at twilight on the American River at Fair Oaks Bridge

One last boater is in the water. Lights on and equipment ready. Two twinkling lights let people know he is still there. The air still warm. Now almost too dark to see any shapes in the water. Everything is slowly changing to shadows. I walk back to my car while there is still some daylight.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What Sounds Go Unheard?

September 8, 2017, 635 am    64 degrees

Mist covers my car windshield. I wonder if this morning chill will continue in mornings to come.

My mornings of wearing shorts, a t-shirt and sandals are certainly to become less frequent. Chickens that provide daily wake up calls in Fair Oaks Village are still slumbering. I see three cars as I walk through the village streets. Hot Yoga parking lot is double stacked with cars – located on the street about 100 steps from Fair Oaks Bridge.

chickens, morning, sounds, greet, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River
Okay, take the photo so I can finish crossing the street.

Today is a cloudy morning. By the time I wake up, any color in the sky from the sunrise has vanished. A trio of chickens wake up and stand in the street on the way to the bridge. Only one greets me with a good morning crow. The others are far too busy scratching the dirt to find breakfast. On my walk to Fair Oaks Bridge, one small chicken is raising a panic. Instead of crowing to greet the day, this chicken sounds more like it is complaining over and over again.

What other sounds does the morning air hold that I am not hearing?

American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, water, sounds, erosion, fisherman, river, morning, salmon
Fisherman sit beneath the Fair Oaks Bluffs and alongside trees uprooted during flooding early this year.

Three boats sit a few yards away on the east side of the bridge. The fishermen wait. Everyone prefers the east side. They are so intensely committed to catching fish, they arrive before dawn and wait for hours. I often see men in each boat talk to each other, swapping stories of who caught what and where, what bait they use and other conversation as they wait. Two more boats sit 100 yards farther east.

For a moment, the same tiny bird that greeted me each morning last fall with “too, too” returned to its post at the top of the bridge. Not intending to stay for long, it took a look around and flew away. The glowing yellow sun emerges in the eastern sky over the heads of trees lining the American River  No waterfowl are out yet this morning. Not even one. As I sit and listen in the still air, I hear a distant call of a Canada Goose, and then a quack and then silence. I wonder how far away are the geese?

After nearly a year of observation, I have a baseline of observing what happened each month. Yet, as the fifth year of drought concluded with heavy rain and flooding, I wonder what is usual and customary on the river? How will activity on the river change this coming fall? Will the waterfowl return? How many salmon will come? Will other wildlife return to feed on the salmon as they did last fall?

American River, trees, erosion, ducks, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge
One of several trees with exposed roots clinging to eroded riverbank.
chicken, ducks, erosion, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge
Scavenging the shallow water to find breakfast

Four ducks emerges from their evening hiding places and swim under the bridge heading west. They swim past fallen trees laying on the river bottom visible in the clear, shallow water. They pass trees with exposed roots along the eroded riverbank. These prominent features are a few of many ways flooding and erosion over time has shaped and scarred the integrity of this river channel.

The fisherman continue to sit and wait and I see nothing jumping in the water. The water is as still as it can be in this flat section of the American River. Birds are twittering unseen. I do my regular spider web check and see no evidence. I look for the fallen tree that was once an ideal sunbathing spot for turtles. It has fallen farther into the river. Where have the turtles gone? Another visitor to Fair Oaks Bridge remarked there were a dozen turtles or more. I saw only two. Now they have moved somewhere else.

 

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.

 

 

 

 

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

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!”

 

Morning Rituals of Fall

Friday, September 22, 2017            635 am   55 degrees

Not a single chicken in sight when drive into Fair Oaks Village. Yet the morning symphony is as loud and as long as ever.

morning, rituals, Fair Oaks, chickens, Fair Oaks Bridge

The songs of Fair Oaks Chickens are my favorite way to start the day – far better than a wake me up beverage!

Today is a cool morning! It is only 55 degrees. I wonder if the cool temperatures wake them earlier and inspire them to begin calling each other.

The brutal 100-degree days of summer are behind us. What a change from two weeks ago when morning temperature had not dropped below 72 degrees at 630 am. I wear a light jacket and jeans. For the first time, my hands feel chilled in the moist morning air.

Loosely scattered clouds define this morning’s sunrise. I missed yesterday’s fiery orange sunrise behind a dense cloud cover and hoped for a repeat. Not today. I watched yesterday’s sunrise from afar as the brilliant yellow ball emerged from the clouds a full 45 minutes after the first glow rose from the horizon.

Fair Oaks Bridge is one of few places where I can find joy when my days are filled with too much drama. I always hope others can find peace in sharing these morning walks on the bridge and the river’s edge.

Read more