Tag: environment

A Foundation to Begin the Day

Wednesday September 28, 2016, 9 am

Mornings on Fair Oaks Bridge or American River Parkway create a foundation to begin my day. I arrive late today, at 9 am. The Fair Oaks Village neighborhood is fully awake. My walks usually pass through quiet streets at 630 or 7am.  Now they are filled with rushing cars. A pickup truck appears from a side street and sputters off. Roosters quiet, except for an occasional call to grab attention. They have emerged from the trees and walk the park looking for breakfast. A few early morning fishermen are still in their boats.

American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River Parkway, pigeons, flying, dance, morningI enjoy learning the patterns of the morning – the fishermen are always first before dawn! Ducks emerge next. The pigeons arrive flying in their circle dance, then the smaller birds greet me from the top of the bridge. Geese sleep late and most of them arrive long after the ducks have already finished their morning grooming. Egrets keep themselves hidden. It is a gift to see one or two arrive later in the morning.

Why do pigeons settle on one side of the bridge? Is it warmer there?

Cyclists arrive at 630 wearing headlamps and continue crossing the bridge all day long. Some carrying backpacks commuting to work. Some dressed in cycling attire out for pleasure or training rides. The walkers come by 7 am. Walkers with dogs are always out for early morning walks.Read more

Rainsticks Really Sound Like Rain!

Tuesday, October 25, 2016, 7:15 am, 58 degrees

Despite the gentle rain, roosters are conducting their morning concert. They are still singing when I arrive. They crow hiding in trees from a distance of several blocks.

salmon, Canada Geese, American RiverPigeons circle the bridge. An egret begins its usual lone morning walk along the shore beginning at the boat ramp.  While standing at the boat launch ramp, my daughter and I see a goose with a cocked feather. We have seen this one before. We know these geese call this part of the river their home.

Ducks arrive quietly for their leisurely morning swim. Turkey vultures are sitting on the edge of branches at the tops of trees. Geese are busy eating the remains of a salmon. More Canada geese fly in. None of the waterfowl appear to notice the gentle rain as it falls on their backs and drops into the river.Read more

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.

 

 

 

 

Mallard Speak

October 1, 2017 630 pm 72 degrees

A beautiful fall evening capping a warm, breezy day – a fragment of stronger winds of earlier today.

mallard speak, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, morning, salmon, Cormorant
A year ago, this island was large enough to support fisherman docking their boats, bringing a folding chair and ice chest. Now there is barely enough island for Cormorants to stand on.

I stand on Fair Oaks Bridge wondering where the spider webs? I do not see a single one. On a bike ride earlier today, two Cormorants rested on an island in the middle of the river channel. From the bridge I see an Egret return to the riverbank. It huddles on the north side.  Egrets and Great Blue Herons are almost always alone. I wonder why?

narrow, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, salmon, ducks, swim, morning, Mallard speak
American River winds downstream. This is the narrow and shallow area of the river, offering the best viewing of salmon jumping upstream and others spawning in the shallow water.

 

 

 

 

A few ducks swim around the boat launch ramp – a favorite spot. They are always found in groups or at least in pairs. The ramp is where they are most likely to find a human visitor providing them an easy meal. I rarely see Mallards alone. Even the domestic white Pekin duck, likely released into the river by a family, joins the crowd.

Several Mallards speak, arguing loudly in duck speak language that I do not understand.

Pigeons repeat their circles near the bridge. Once, twice, three times before settle and quickly depart for another destination. All is quiet on American River today. One fishing boat sits. Clouds dot the other side and blanketing the west in overlapping strips of white. The eastern sky resembles an artist palette of pale blue, tinged with gray at the horizon, and pinks and white stretching across the sky.

I hear a splash in the water. What was it? I am not fast enough to see if it was a salmon, beaver or otter? Usually, salmons are the noisy ones. Otters and beavers surface and vanish with hardly a ripple. As I stand on the bridge, I hear a single chicken call. Its voice is loud enough for me to hear standing at least 50 yards away. People are walking dogs.

Six ducks fly under the bridge and I miss photographing their landing. I love watching ducks land on the river. Each time, they stretch out their legs and ski into the water with their webbed feet laid flat, creating a huge splash. Then before two seconds have passed, they fold their legs and wings, settling into the water. Then all is calm.

The pink sunset spreads across the horizon and I watch the blurred edges of dusk transform the landscape into dark shadows.

Early Morning Fog

Friday, October 20, 2017   6:50 am, 50 degrees

Clouds sit way off on the distant eastern shore. The pink glow of sunrise reaches the bottom edge of the clouds.

These low lying pink strips of clouds surround me from every viewpoint as I stand on the Bridge.

Chickens near the bridge are calling from trees where they hid for the night. I listen closely to the voice of each chicken. Each one has a different volume and pitch. Some chickens have deep voices. I never thought of chickens being either Altos or Tenors. Others in the crowd sing with very high pitched, fragmented voices – a chicken singing soprano?

Some crow with more syllables than others. Others start strong and loud, then their voices fade at the end. I hear another voice that reminds me of an engine that grinds before it starts. “Er, Er…Er, Er…Er, Er, ooooo roooo.” Every day 2, 3 or 6 chickens are wandering the dirt alongside the street scratching for food, chattering among themselves.

fog bank, morning, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge,Boat lights twinkle in the darkness in the slowly brightening dawn.

As the sun rises In the shadowy light of dawn, I see a fog bank and a line of boats near the shore. An Egret glides under the bridge from the east, flapping long pearly white wings. I follow its flight path and lose sight 100 yards to the west. I see two splashes just below the bridge. Salmon are coming in greater numbers. I have yet to see one jump! Another boat launches.

At 730, two dozen pigeons arrive and circle 30 times around Fair Oaks Bridge flapping wildly. Their circles grow wider and wider the entire group of birds vanish in the western sky. Three mallards fly in and settle down quickly. As the day brightens, I can more easily see the line of boaters and a kayak. Suddenly a dozen cyclists race by.

The sun emerges as a bright yellow fireball. Four pigeons return to the bridge and a tiny bird sings its traditional chorus, “Ti Too!” “Ti Too” from the top of the bridge truss work.

 

 

Lewis & Clark National Historical Park

Native American, Chinook, Middle Village, Oregon, history, culture, story, interpretation, site, National Park Service, canoe, transportation,
Marker describing MIddle Village at the mouth of Columbia River, once home to the Chinook tribe of Native Americans for thousands of years.

Lewis and Clark National Historical Park – Chinook Middle Village Station in Astoria, Oregon.

This newly established site recognizes the Chinook people who lived along the mouth of the Columbia River for thousands of year. Artifact and inquiry-based lessons engage middle school students in a study of Chinook lifestyle and culture.

Did you know?  

Chinooks used a river-based economy and used canoes as the primary mode of transportation. Carving a canoe from a single cedar tree could take up to a year.  Large canoes were 50 feet long, held 20-30 people and could carry 8,000-10,000 pounds.