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.

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Salmon Return Home

Sunday, October 15, 2017   1:30 pm

Nimbus Hatchery Fish Ladder Opens

turkey vulture, salmon, seagulls, American River Parkway
Turkey vultures on the prowl for dead and decaying salmon

During an afternoon bicycle ride, I go directly to a narrow section of the American River shallow enough for salmon to spawn and ducks dive for tasty tidbits. No one there yet. The picnic area facing a small island is a favorite feeding zone for seagulls. Indeed, 60 of them are sitting in the water and waiting to eat.

Later in the season, 100 seagulls will be gathered here. Since mid-October is still early in the season, these gulls maybe the “early birds.”

The Nimbus Fish Hatchery opened the fish ladder and filled it with water. Two dozen large, red and decaying salmon swim at the top level delighting visitors of all ages. Fishing season ends October 31. Time is running out to make a catch.

The river canyon at the weir (barrier stopping salmon from swimming any farther up river.) is as steep as the Fair Oaks Bluffs. Yet, some still climb down to risk fishing on the cliff. They get a rude surprise when the Game Warden catches them where they don’t belong, and fishing in a prohibited area.

salmon at hatchery, fish ladder, American River, spawn
Top level of fish ladder, waiting to spawn

Fishermen continue to fish and catch salmon at the Jim’s Bridge, Fair Oaks Bridge and farther upstream. Yet, I see very little jumping out of the water yet. Will the salmon run be strong this year considering increasing challenges to their habitat?

My last stop riding home is Jim’s Bridge where Mallards love to hang out. I watch them dunk and dive for food.

Each duck paddles it webbed feet, sometimes doing a little dance to move around underwater dirt, then a straight vertical dive for about five seconds and comes up with something to nibble on.

At the hint of food somewhere else, ducks rise in unison, flap their wings as fast as they can possibly move and fly from one side of the river to the other. Could be people standing and throwing bread, or other ducks finding nibbles on the opposite shore, ducks rise up and fly in a great hurry to land with a splash on their webbed skis.

 

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.

 

 

Moment to Moment Experiences

Saturday, October 28, 2017       720 am 52 degrees

When I arrive on the bridge, I see seven boats lined up on the American River (running from east to west). I find it curious the boats are always in a straight line on the eastern side of Fair Oaks Bridge. Boats always stay on the north side of the river. I am guessing the water level is deeper to support the boats. The south side where the boat launch ramp is located tends to be shallow almost half way out.

boats, fishermen, Fair Oaks Bridge, morning, American River, salmon

Two walkers pass. An older man calls out to me, “It is cheaper to buy salmon at the store than to go fishing in the cold. It is freezing out there on the water.”  I turned and replied, “Then you miss the experience. You cannot buy the experience.”

I rarely have the opportunity to ask fishermen why they venture into the cold river before dawn to catch salmon. For devoted fishermen, catching a wild salmon, watching it jump and wriggle and try in vain to escape is the culmination of both joyful anticipation and planning. Some salmon get away. Their struggle to escape is stronger than the fishing line. At the  final moment when the salmon is caught, skillful hands cannot hold on. The salmon wins the game to fight another day. Watching the sunrise, eating breakfast on portable grills on the boat are experiences no one can buy in a store.

morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, moments, American River, salmon, duck,
Breakfast on the boat launch ramp

I watch the fishermen as they find the best spot, cast their lines and share fish stories between boats. I come outside to experience the chill in morning air, listen for a distant, yet unseen “quack, quack, quack,” and honks from Canada Geese, the graceful flight of seagulls and their calls to each other from the river.

Even after visiting this bridge more than 100 times, I continue to marvel at the beauty of this place.

Arriving at Fair Oaks Bridge, I always do a spider web check. This morning I marvel at two empty spider webs. These webs are meticulously attached to the Truss frame of the bridge. I watch the ripples in the water as ducks swim past me. Next I watch a circle of pigeons flying above the bridge. Canada Geese swim under the bridge. An egret flies and lands on the boat launch ramp. Ducks are busy finding breakfast on the boat launch ramp and under the water. I remain in awe how various species of birds take flight and land, using their wings and feet in different, yet very precise ways. Many waterfowl gather to feed on salmon. I don’t smell the scent of their decaying bodies as much as I have in the past. Two dead salmon lay at the river bottom below the bridge.

morning, Fair Oaks, American River
Ducks dunk and swim as they search for nibbles underwater

I stand and watch a series of circles in the water created by Canada Geese who rise and flap their wings in the air for 20 yards before ever lifting out of the water and rise into the sky. I listen to the sound of a tiny bird, “Ti Too. Ti too.” These birds return regularly to rest on the overhead truss of the bridge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feast at the American River

Tuesday October 31, 2017,  130 pm   70s

Today is the last day of fishing for the year.

After this the salmon are protected from fisherman and so they can continue to swim undisturbed up the American River to their spawning grounds. All of them will stop when they reach the weir at Nimbus Fish Hatchery. Some will lay eggs in the river. Many will climb the fish ladder into the hatchery for spawning.

It is late in the day, so the morning fisherman have long ago left the river. Only two boaters are sitting in the river. Seagulls patrol the sky. I see a dead salmon laying the shallow bottom of the river. I am surprised to see a Great Blue Heron walking along the riverbank on the west side of the bridge. Usually 630 am is the prime time to search for nibbles.

seagull, feast, mornings, Fair Oaks Bridge, salmon, Egret, Great Blue Heron, American River, fishermen
Seagull feasts on salmon lying in American River

I walk along the American River Parkway to a shallow, rocky area and see a seagull eating his catch. Twenty seagulls sit and wait.

I wonder, why are so few salmon jumping? Were there more salmon a year ago?

I struggled to observe so many things happening at once – writing, observing, photographing. Four turkey vultures circle, dozens of seagulls call, and other waterfowl swim peacefully. I see so few salmon jumping. As I stand watching the water, I see two salmon swim and then another. The easiest way to spot them is to watch for the flip of their tails as they propel themselves forward.

Water splashes and one salmon surfaces; barely visible because the colors blend into the water. Each one that passes navigates the surface of the water for only a second before its swims down below again to continue on this last part of its long journey from the Pacific Ocean. I see a third salmon flipping its tail and disappear. This pattern continues. In 45 minutes, I see at least six salmon swim past and likely many more that I missed.

Egret, salmon, Fair Oaks Bridge, feast, morning, American River
Egret vigorously shakes the salmon, thinking it would break apart and become easier to swallow

An Egret stands tall in the distance making serious efforts to swallow a whole salmon.

Using its beak to shake it and break up the salmon into pieces is not working, so the Egret throws the salmon to the ground to dunk it under the water. It remains intact. The next strategy is to shake it apart and that does not work either. Finally the Egret stands and decides to chew on it a little more. After a few minutes, the Egret tires of tearing up the dead salmon flies to the opposite shore to escape the crowds.

I notice each day when I visit the river that all the larger birds – Egret, Great Blue Heron and even the Turkey Vultures tend to stay in the background, waiting their turn. They go on patrol individually. The Turkey Vultures cast off their competition with a spreading of their wings, warning others of their kind this is their territory and/or their catch, “Get outta here!”

American River, Fair Oaks, feast, morning, Great Blue Heron, Egret, seagulls, salmon
Egret (left), seagulls and Great Blue Heron (right) join at the American River to feast on dead salmon

Some seagulls stand alone while others prefer to stay in groups. A rare opportunity to see the Egret, Great Blue Heron and 20 gulls stand together on shallow parts of the river looking for food. Vultures continue their sky patrol. One daring salmon passes quickly in front of the gulls and keeps on going. I wonder what those gulls could be thinking? “Oh darn. Another one got away!”