Where Salmon Swim, Seagulls Fly

Sunday, October 15, 2017   7am     46 degrees

Mornings are much cooler now, well into October. I am surprised it has not rained yet.

Usually it rains the weekend we decorate our home with outdoor Halloween decorations. I wear jeans, long sleeve shirts, long socks, and a jacket or sweatshirt on my morning visits. My hands are chilled. I have yet to put my gloves on. Mist covers my windshield and the moist air stays on. Despite the cold, people are out walking their dogs.

jet stream, sky, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, fishermen, salmon
Jet streams cross the sky at sunrise

Standing on Fair Oaks Bridge, I see white jet streams crossing the sky leaving a pattern of stripes across a pale blue sky. Today, no visible trace of gray smoke, yet my head remains congested in response to the poor air quality from so many fires some 90 miles north.

This morning, as all mornings, the same small, skinny chicken calls out “I am awake” in chicken speak and scratches the dirt to find breakfast. I can hear it call all morning from the center of Fair Oaks Bridge.

fishermen, boats, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, morning
Year after year, fishermen return to this site east of Fair Oaks Bridge to catch salmon coming upriver to spawn

Two young adults are huddled in a blanket are engaged in vibrant conversation as they point to photos in an album. They continue to review their photos all the time I stand on the bridge and do not see them looking at the water or the landscape. Fair Oaks Bridge and the American River underneath create a space for so many different activities. Watching the sunrise, sunset, fishing, running, walking, cycling, kayaks, nature observation, feeding wildlife and picking berries.

When I arrive a cluster of fishermen sit in boats on the American River as if they were holding conference. I wonder if these are same people out every day or if different ones show up. Unlike the woman I encountered last visit who screamed down to them waving a flier about her lost cat, I leave them alone to watch early morning action on the river.

Today I see my first seagull of the season landing near the boat launch ramp. I smell the faint scent of dead salmon in the air. As November draws closer, seagulls know food is plentiful here and they wait.

Two hungry turkey vultures fly overhead. My first spotting for this season. I saw a dozen of them along the American River last year. More signs the salmon have returned. The seagull takes flight and glides through the air toward the bridge, scanning the water. After circling twice, it vanishes. Far more food lies about half a mile upriver. I wonder if the seagulls will be there yet? I see dozens of seagulls waiting during my bike ride later in the day.

seagull, salmon, morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, water, fishermen
A group of seagulls sit upstream at a shallow and rocky part of the river – a prime location for salmon to spawn

A dozen pigeons approach and land on the bridge overhead Truss frame to rest a while. With the coming of salmon, I expect to see far more salmon jumping and splashing. So far, I see only a few in an hour of watching the river. A Cormorant arrives and flies under the bridge headed west. I follow its flight close to the riverbank and then lose sight as it blends into the distant landscape. Moments later, this elegant bird returns to circle the bridge.

I watch a seagull float gracefully over the bridge and land in the river near the boat launch ramp. Unlike ducks that splash down with wings spread and feet extended as if water skiing, seagulls land sitting down, wings tucked in without a ripple. When I hear the seagull call, I wonder is it calling for others to join? Where is the food? Or locate its flock?

Immediately after hearing the seagull, the lonely chicken calls from Bridge Street. Where else can you hear the call of a seagull and the rousing good morning from a chicken in the same place and time?

I leave the bridge knowing the cooler days of fall and the salmon are here. The wildlife of the American River in fall are ready and waiting.

Reflecting Clouds

Tuesday, October 17, 2017 730 am, 49 degrees

By the time I arrived at Fair Oaks Bridge this morning, the glorious orange and pinks of sunrise were already faded. I drove toward the sunrise enjoying its brilliant display by car instead. I listened to the “Fair Oaks Village symphony” informally conducted by at least a dozen chickens. Then I heard even more singing on the bridge.

Great Blue Heron, clouds, fishermen, fishing nets, American River, Fair Oaks Bridge, morning, writing, nature, outdoors, wildlife
Great Blue Heron walks at boat launch ramp

I gazed into the American River and saw small white patches of clouds reflected from above. Seven Canada Geese flew over the bridge against a backdrop of fluffy white clouds.

Fishermen were in their places, fishing nets hanging off the side of their boats and kayaks. I watched a Great Blue Heron at the boat launch ramp take a careful stroll along the riverbank until it disappeared under the bridge. Its soft blue and gray coloring blended into the landscape from a distance. Staying focused on this majestic bird took constant concentration.

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.

 

 

Geese on Patrol

Friday October 27, 2017,     730 am 54 degrees

Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, mornings, Great Blue HeronIt was a beautiful morning and relatively warm. I often see Fair Oaks Bridge reflected in the river. Today it was especially vibrant and clear. My first sight as I walk on to Fair Oaks Bridge is a Great Blue Heron eating at the end of the boat launch ramp. Since sightings are rare, I walk to the boat launch ramp to see it more closely. I snap a great photo just before an intruder rushes toward it as if in a trance.

 

Great Blue Heron, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River The Great Blue Heron heard the snapping sound of his noisy “flip flops” and  responds with a chortle that could be,“I am getting away from this disturbance” and flies to the opposite river bank.

Standing at the end of the boat ramp where the heron has been, the intruder stares out into the distance for only a minute. Then he walks to the left, stares again, walks away and back into his car. Looking for something?

Canada Geese, Great Blue Heron, mornings, Fair Oaks Bridge, American RiverImmediately after this intruder  left the boat launch ramp, Canada Geese flew in. They walked up the ramp, beaks to the ground and then marched across the driveway in formation. They looked like “the geese patrol.”  in search of breakfast.

 

 

 

Gulls Call and Ducks Squabble

November 3, 2017,  750 am 57 degrees

Soft rain falls on the ground. I see a random pattern of drops on streets, sidewalks and the deck of Fair Oaks Bridge.

morning, speak duck, Fair Oaks Bridge, Fair Oaks, salmon, fishermen, seagulls, Canada Geese, ducks, Mallards, sunrise, walk, rain, clouds
Dramatic cloud cover blankets the sky and sends a gentle rain down to the American River

All fishing is over until January. No fishermen here to disturb river wildlife. Spawning salmon and other creatures of the American River are left at peace. On this very quiet morning, white clouds blanket the sky, in thick round rolls covering the pale blue early morning sky. A gentle breeze blows as I stand and watch leaves of gold, red and orange fall from nearby trees into the river and lazily float under the bridge.

Mallards gather at the boat launch ramp for a morning meeting. I hear the chortle of a Great Blue Heron from the ramp. It rises up and flies in to sit about 30 yards from me. Although I hear it clearly, the pale blue colors blend in with the landscape and the heron remains unseen. A Turkey Vulture flies over my head, scans the river and continues to fly west. Four more Mallards fly in with fluttering wings and a splash – their legs stretched out straight ready for a “ski in” landing.

seagull, duck speakTwo seagulls call out to each other. I wonder what they are saying. Could it be, Where is the food?” “Where is the flock?” “I am hungry. Get your breakfast here.” I watch each gull open its mouth wide and tilt their head back. The sound of their voices come from deep down in their throat.

morning, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, dunk ducks, Canada Geese, Mallards, falling leaves
Morning meeting over, feeding time begins

I wish I could speak duck! What do they chatter about? I am sure sometimes one is telling off another, “You don’t belong here, so scram!” Or “Stop taking all the food!” Morning meeting complete, they slowly swim away. Canada Geese stand at the end of the boat ramp, whispering to themselves.

Gentle Rain

November 9, 2017, 7:15 am 55 degrees

Last night’s rain washed the air clean. I see sharp clear lines on the trees, landscapes and structures.

spider web, Fair Oaks Bridge, mornings, rain, American River, salmon, seagulls, ducks,
Spider webs cling to wet bridge rails after a soft rain.

Even after the rain has come and gone, I still see spider webs clinging to the rails of the bridge. Today is a crisp and warm morning. White billowy clouds cover the sky. River is still and seems empty.

As I stand on Fair Oaks Bridge, the small bird that favors its observation post at the top of the frame calls out a good morning greeting. An usual morning because so far, I see no ducks swimming, no seagulls flying overhead and no Canada Geese honking or approaching from any direction.

By this time of year, I expected to see many salmon jumping out of the water. Instead, see very few.

I imagine them swimming slowly and intently beneath the visible surface. Are they swimming deeper, so I miss them? Salmon are easier to spot at the shallow, rocky area about a mile upriver to the east. I wonder how many salmon stop to spawn in the waters of the American River before they reach Fair Oaks Bridge?

I hear many people remember, as do I, the years when salmon lined the weir at the Nimbus Fish Hatchery. So many, they formed their own solid bridge. No more. Their numbers are far fewer these days. It is common to see a handful jumping at the weir (gate on the American River).

Egret, salmon, seagulls, morning, rain, visitors, Fair Oaks Bridge, Fair Oaks, American River, quiet
Egret stands on the opposite shore far away from other shore birds and waterfowl.

Later in the morning, a dozen ducks swim in from about 100 yards away upriver. A few walkers pass and a solo cyclist. I hear one splash down at the river. I walk to the “shallows,” pictured here, where salmon spawn. As many as 30 seagulls float in the water looking for salmon treats to nibble on. Canada Geese fly in here to check status on a variety of tasty food sources.

I wonder why the Egret and the Great Blue Heron always arrive alone and stand apart from other wildlife. They always keep their distance from each other and stand on the opposite side of the river from the gulls, geese and ducks. Both are easily disturbed.

It seems that November is one of the “stillest” months for mornings on the American River. Leaving the wildlife alone to find food at their leisure without boaters getting in their way. During the week, driving down city streets, as seagulls fly overhead, I wonder are they headed to the American River looking for salmon.

seagulls, flight, mornings, rain, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, salmon

Do seagulls carry maps in their head, in a way similar to salmon use their powerful sense of smell to find their home river from hundreds of miles away? I imagine this a seasonal migratory habit leading them to find salmon year after year.

When a dozen ducks finally arrive they “own” the river, swimming down its center of the empty water, leaving a wake behind each of them. Sun has finally risen over the wide cloud cover with a brightness that hurts my eyes. Today I hear a new bird call, in addition to the others I hear regularly each morning visit. This one is a shrill whistle – Whoo – oo—oo. We ee uu.

Every morning a different experience visiting Fair Oaks Bridge.

 

Wrapped in Fog

Saturday November 11, 2017, 49 degrees 645 am

fog, morning, American River, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge,
Entering the bridge from north side

Thick fog wraps everything with a soft, white, layer of chilled air and moisture.

The American River is barely visible standing on Fair Oaks Bridge. Shoreline on both the east and west sides have disappeared. Dew attached to spider webs sparkles like jewels. Sounds are muffled in thick fog. The bridge  drips with moisture. A single runner emerges through the fog and crosses the bridge.

spider web, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River,fog
Morning dew illuminates the details of spider webs

I wonder why there are always more spider webs on the east side of the bridge then the west? The position of the sun, direction of the wind or that spiders favor the east side for another reason? I photograph a dozen webs – these miracles of geometry illuminated by drops of dew clinging to the strands.

The resident chickens on Bridge Street are out early scavenging for food. One pearly white seagull flies gracefully over the bridge. More gulls call out and cross an invisible river. One hour later, the intensity of the fog decreased by least half. A heavy mist continues to bathe the river and landscape until after noon.

morning fog, fair oaks bridge, fog
View from the boat launch ramp

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain Softens the Landscape

Wednesday, November 15, 2017, 7 am   56 degrees

Despite the gentle rain, Fair Oaks chickens are on patrol again this morning.

When I first arrive, the rain feels more like a drizzle – drops sprinkle here and there in no special pattern. The air is fairly warm and the rain is a refreshing morning wake up. Even in rain, this bridge is a peaceful place to escape and watch the river move down in a smooth, elegance. The ripples, the shallow places in the river, change as the raindrops fall more evenly and increase in number.soft landscapes, morning, rain, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, Fair Oaks, nature, outdoor writing,

A few people pass by. Raindrops are marking the bridge deck with huge spots. Water drips down in tiny streams from the Truss structure and the side rails.

Some people think rain makes for a dark and gloomy day. I see landscapes that are fresh, crisp, clean and bright.

Soft, consistent drumming is the heartbeat of rain. The sound of rain is a gentle lullaby. The mist softens the edges of the landscape and the trees. Through the mist, they resemble mirror images of themselves.

So much to observe and listen to out in the rain for those who choose to take the time – those who appreciate the gifts of our outdoor world.

Leaves change color from green to red, orange and gold. Yet, trees along the American River are always green and gold. I watch leaves gently fall into the river and see many others lining the bridge deck. I believe the sound when leaves hit the ground is so gentle, it is overrun by the drumming of the rain.

An Egret scavenges the riverbank. Finding nothing of interest, it flies away. A seagull flies in and I stand to watch its snowy white wings fly gracefully over the bridge.

Ducks flap wildly to rise and fly away. They leave a wake behind them, accentuated by the patterns of raindrops falling into the river. Rain increases and ducks of the river ignore the event as if there was no rain at all.

Puddles form in low spots of the bridge deck. More seagulls arrive, flying through the center of the river channel, flying in the opposite direction of ribbons of water flowing downstream created by the rain.

ducks, water, American River, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, rainOn this particular morning, the river belongs to those few waterfowl that call this place home. I am a guest who finds a sense of joy when I overhear their squabbles, their calls and their complaints.

 

 

Thanksgiving Outdoors

Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, November 23, 2017, 9 am 57 degrees

People of all ages enjoy a morning outdoors on Fair Oaks Bridge.

Families are out walking, joggers shake the bridge as they pass and I hear cyclists on the American River Parkway less than 100 yards away. The air is warm, with no breeze, yet filled with the calls of birds hidden in trees that hug the riverbanks. With heavy cloud cover, the sun barely shines through.

People climb the Fair Oaks Bluffs to enjoy the panoramic views, cross the bridge, stop to enjoy the river and see the wildlife at play and at work.

Fair Oaks Bluffs, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, American River Parkway, water, monring, families, walkers, cyclists, joggers, climb, hike, walk
Fair Oaks Bluffs feature steep cliffs and spectacular views

 

Seagulls call as they fly over the river, some landing in the water to call again. One bird song reminds me of a calliope with its high pitched whoop. Buffleheads skirt the water, leaving ripples as they rise out of the water and fly low across the river. Watching the river all year long, I only see these daring little ducks in fall and early winter. I presume they live somewhere else during other parts of the year.

Do birds know today is a holiday for people because we show up in larger numbers than other days?

This looks like one more workday for them in their ongoing search to find breakfast. A woman arrives on the boat launch ramp to throw seeds. Nearly 20 birds and waterfowl rush to get their share. Seagulls call out to each other. One gull lands in the river to nibble at a dead salmon floating slowly downriver.  A very busy day on the American River.

 

The Wonder of Clouds

Thanksgiving Day, November 23, 2017  9 am

As I gaze into the sky today standing on the bridge, I wonder about the clouds, their constant motion and beautiful palettes of color. Clouds continue to fascinate me. How exactly do they move and change shape?

Are clouds held in the sky by currents of air in the same way an airplane flies?

clouds, Fair Oaks Bridge, Fair Oaks, morning, American River, sky, nimbus, cumulus, stratusWhat is the air temperature inside a cloud? I have often heard, “Cloudy skies today, so our air temperature is low.” Or, “The clouds held in the heat overnight to keep away the frost.” Are clouds one of nature’s mysteries?

clouds, Fair Oaks Bridge, Fair Oaks, mornings,
In person, those hints of color at the center reflected the full spectrum of light.

I stand in awe at how the shape and density of clouds create the brilliant colored lights and shadows of sunrise. The golden glows of deep orange, and varying shades of pinks and grays filter the sunlight. I have seen long strips of clouds and barely visible wisps. They look like unraveled skeins of yarn, finely woven baskets, and rounded puffs reminding me of spun cotton or cotton candy.

Each cloud formation changes every minute. Everyday brings a new landscape and new shapes in the sky. We see rainbows after a rain storm. We can find animals, dragons, giants and scenes playing in the sky.

Each cloud formation changes every minute. Everyday brings a new landscape and new shapes in the sky. We see rainbows after a rain storm. and can find animals, dragons, giants and scenes featured in the sky. What about the days when there are no clouds in the morning and by evening the sky is covered by a heavy blanket of white?

 How do we know if clouds move as the earth moves, stay in one place or move on their own at the mercy of the winds?

clouds
Early moments of sunrise on Fair Oaks Bridge

Yesterday morning the ground was covered in mist. The sun never shined through the clouds until the evening. The sunset was a single strip of pink lasting five minutes and then faded into gray. Besides learning their different names – cumulus, nimbus, stratus – to describe a cloud’s characteristic shape, moisture content and elevation, what else can we learn about them?