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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!”

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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!”

 

 

Memorial Bench~A Place for Reflection

Sunday, December 10, 2017,  820 am   37 degrees

In their customary morning ritual, chickens wake early to call from the trees where they hide and sleep at night. As morning temperature warms up, chickens fly down to patrol the streets and park.

Clouds dust the sky in the same way powdered sugar falls on cookies through a strainer. The bridge deck and rails are heavy with moisture. No spider webs today. A beautiful morning. River is still. Runners, walkers with dogs and cyclists pass by. Everyone dresses in hats, gloves and jackets. Each breath comes out as small clouds forming in front of their faces.

I hear the whistle of a different bird this morning and it reminds me of a circus calliope playing a tune.  A seagull calls from a distance. Pigeons circle the bridge in their daily morning dance.

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photo courtesy of Wikipedia

Diving ducks are out searching for breakfast. I watch a Goldeneye dive underwater and disappear four times in rapid succession. It stays underwater 30 seconds before rising back to the surface again.

Several weeks have passed since I last saw turtles sunbathing on their favorite branch at the riverbank. That branch is slowly sinking into the American River.

Arriving at the boat launch ramp, a dozen ducks fly in all at once and approach me thinking I have food. Ducks slowly waddle up the ramp, shaking their tails from left to right. Pigeons arrive. Everyone is frustrated because I brought no food. Pigeons rise up in unison and fly toward Fair Oaks Bridge and circle twice. They settle back down on the ramp, but not for long. Pigeons are collectively so “nervous,” they repeat this morning ritual every time they sense slight movement or a sound. Meanwhile, a seagull out of sight continues its wailing.

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Memorial bench facing Fair Oaks Bluffs provides a place to sit and watch activities along the American River

I notice a newly installed memorial bench at top of the boat launch ramp – one of many benches along the American River Parkway to celebrate the life of a treasured friend or family member. The ground beneath it is fresh and smooth.

I wonder who was this person and what was their relationship to this place?

Walking farther east on the American River Parkway to a wide and shallow place, I watch salmon as they swim upstream through the current. They rise above the water just long enough to see the gray and white colors of their badly deteriorated bodies. Within ten minutes I see five salmon swishing and splashing through the shallow waters. Their short lives (three to four years) and several month journey from the Pacific Ocean is coming to an end.

A group of salmon circle near the surface of the water. Only their fins and top edge of their bodies are visible. Salmon splash and stir up whirlpools in three separate places. Not a single seagull is waiting here to grab a meal. Some will stop here to spawn. Others will search for another shallow area along the river. Many more will swim another mile until their passage is blocked by huge gates (called a weir) at the Nimbus Fish Hatchery. Salmon will spawn along the riverbanks here or climb the fish ladder into the hatchery.

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Turkey Vulture stands guard over his salmon

Turkey vultures search a small nearby island for remains of a dead salmon. The vulture pictured guards his salmon and chases another away from the catch.

With flapping wings and a snap of its head, the competing vulture withdraws and leaves to find food somewhere else.

When I return to the boat launch ramp a cyclist has arrived with a bag filled with food for the ducks. The pounce on it and the feeding frenzy begins. I watch two ducks struggle to bite off large chunks of bread. The lone seagull stands at the end of the boat ramp feeling left out. When most of the food is eaten, ducks quack all their way down the boat ramp and swim away. Pigeons are today’s clean up crew, snatching any tiny leftover bites.

Morning Pandemonium

Sunday, January 14, 2018   740 am, 47 degrees

As I approach Fair Oaks Bridge this morning, the only sounds I hear are my own footsteps, a few random chicken greetings and songs from birds still hidden from view.

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A soft landing without a splash

Given the degree of mist hanging in the air and the chilly temperature, I expected to see fog covering all views on the bridge. High clouds and distant fog hung suspended over the hills. The American River was clear and without any of the characteristic mist rolling downstream I have seen so many other mornings.

Two men launch a fishing boat. I hear Canada Geese honking approach from the east. They are invisible until within 20 yards of the bridge. Then they fly over so fast there is no time to capture them in a photo. All four of them land softly in the river on the west side of the bridge at precisely the same moment and glide downstream. Loud honking continues as others join the chorus. The sounds carry half mile in the still air.

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These ducks may appear to be swimming quietly. Female raises quite a loud ruckus with her nonstop quacking

 

On the east side of the bridge, near the boat launch ramp, one duck begins to complain. “Quack! Quack! Quack!” The chatter goes on and on without end. I am barraged by sounds of wildlife as I stand on the bridge. See video below.

Canada Geese are honking on the west side of Fair Oaks Bridge and ducks are quacking at the boat launch ramp on the east side. Morning pandemonium!

I notice two dead salmon lay still in the river. No birds approach to eat them. I walk to the boat launch ramp intent on seeing the very agitated duck. Forty runners training for a marathon cross in front of me on the American River bike trail. Several cyclists quickly approaching from behind followed runners. A busy morning!

Two male Mallards and two females swim in the river near the boat launch ramp. One female is very upset and starts quacking again. She does not stop. Two minutes later, she has not taken a breath. She continues. As she swims, she is close enough that I can watch her beak open and close, open and close. The three males swimming nearby pay no attention. I wonder what could have upset her to prompt such a one-sided conversation?

I stay and listen and watch. She continues her casual swim and squawks for another 10 minutes without stopping for more than a few seconds. I still hear the distant call of Canada Geese. As the four Mallards swim away, the only visible duck left is a Bufflehead in the center of the river, diving for breakfast. Staying underwater for a half minute before surfacing – and then doing it all again.

Today is a bitter cold, wet and very noisy morning!

A Rousing Morning Symphony

Thursday, January 18, 2018, 705 am 49 degrees

Fair Oaks Village parks and neighboring streets become the daily setting for a rousing morning symphony led and conducted by resident chickens – all still in hiding for the night. I stood beneath one “singing tree” for several minutes listening to their good morning songs. I see a chicken standing in the shadows of darkness, tangled in tree branches, adding its voice to the chorus.

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A quick flyover Fair Oaks Bridge before a splashdown landing in the American River.

Heavy fog this morning and biting cold. Two Canada Geese zoom in from the east over Fair Oaks Bridge, loudly honking and honking. I hear them coming in the distance and they suddenly appear out of the fog. I catch a quick photo as they fly over.

Two more Canada Geese zoom in from the east honking loudly, as if they are engaged in an intense conversation. I wish I understood “goose speak.”

Maybe they are discussing directions or where to land. They make a quick U-turn, fly under the bridge and land with a splash near the boat launch ramp.

Ducks hide in  shadows of reeds near the shore. Sun is hiding behind a thick curtain of fog. The air is bitter cold. A Bufflehead appears in the middle of the river, dunking and reappearing as it searches for breakfast in the deepest part of the American River. Four Canada Geese swim quietly. As runners, cyclists and walkers pass by I hear a “tap, tap, tap” on the bridge and then it stops. The rumble of traffic on the Sunrise Boulevard bridge carries in the wind. I look to the shoreline and notice many trees bent over so far, they are brushing the river, yet the remains of their roots are still attached.

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Hiding in shadows during a morning swim

I wonder where are the turtles? Haven’t seen any in months.

I must be too late or looking in the wrong sites for the beavers and the otters. The Mallards are always here. No spider webs today on the bridge rails. No spiders anywhere. Where are they hiding?

Today I brought a few slices of bread to feed the ducks and they rush over anxious to eat. The Muscovy duck stands alone. All waterfowl keep a 10-foot distance. When I move quickly or walk closer to them, everyone flaps their wings in unison, flies up and heads for the safety of the river. More Canada Geese fly over the river. A lonely seagull flies in squealing. After a soft landing, the gull looks around. “Where is the food?”

As I begin walking back up the ramp to the parking lot, I hear the distinctive chortle of a Great Blue Heron as it flies along the opposite shore and then disappears into the fog. Even on clear day, the Heron is difficult to follow because its blue gray colors blend seamlessly into the hillside. An Egret makes its occasional appearance and flies past the boat ramp to hide in bushes upstream.

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I marvel at every sighting of these impressive birds – especially intrigued at how much the Egret avoids contact with the Great Blue Heron and all other shorebirds.

Many days I have watched ducks dunking for food and swimming leisurely in the river in front of me. I look to the opposite shore and see the Egret perched on a rock alone patrolling for its own snacks.

Moments of Peace

Wednesday, January 31, 2018   56 degrees, 11 am

Today’s temperature warmed up quickly considering that it was 38 degrees at 7 am. I wonder why the morning is so warm?

This is the quiet season on the American River. January days at Fair Oaks Bridge have alternated between dense fog, rain and bright sunshine. No telling what the day will look like until dawn. I have noticed on some evenings the clouds that gathered at night are blown away by morning – or the other way around.

seagull, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, mornings, American River, boat launch rampI walk to the boat launch ramp and watch a seagull standing still atop a rock just beneath the water. Another one stands at the end of the ramp. Both stare intently at me.

After several minutes of quiet contemplation, both seagulls decide to investigate another part of the river. They leave without making a sound.

A group of six Bufflehead dive in the center of the river ignoring everything else. Buffleheads skim the top of the water when they take flight, leaving a large wake behind them. Their wings flap so quickly, they remind me of hummingbirds. All I can see a blur of flapping wings crossing the river.

A dozen pigeons arrive. They circle the bridge a dozen times before separating. Only a few remain to settle on Fair Oaks Bridge. I watch them from a distance walking on the top of the Truss framework as if it were a flat sidewalk.

Such a peaceful day, it is hard to imagine this was a raging river one year ago today. The boat ramp was invisible under five feet or more of water. So many waterfowl moved to shallow waters, where they could find food and safer shelter. The riverbank homes were washed out.

 

 

Spider Spins, Seal Swims

Friday, February 9, 2018 8 am 46 degrees

Warm day, sun high, birds are twittering from nearby trees. The level of water at the American River is so low and still, an island has formed around the branch where turtles sunbathe. The Egret takes it usual place on the riverbank. The pigeons are absent.

spider, spider web, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, monrings, A collection of spider webs are attached to bridge rails. I wonder does a spider have a map in its head to create such complex webs?  As I listen to the call of a single seagull call, I think of the 100 gulls crowded on a small island at Jim’s Bridge. Most have left this part of the river. Everyday I listen for the quacks of the female Mallard raising her voice on the river. Buffleheads skim the water as they take off flying. They move far too quickly to capture in a photo.

As I walk to the boat launch ramp, a hiker atop the Fair Oaks Bluffs calls to me, “Hey. There is a seal in the river!” I see its head just above the water. The seal dives and comes out of the water much too far away to see clearly. Where did the seal come from? What wrong turn led it so far from the coast?

These Beautiful Days

February 16, 2018, 7 am, 36 degrees

I enjoy many early morning experiences on Fair Oaks Bridge, the boat launch ramp and areas nearby along the American River Parkway this month. My backpack, journal and camera are constant companions.

Sometimes I don’t have words to express the joy and delight of these experiences. The beauty of these quiet mornings is a far deeper experience than that act of writing words on a page or taking photos can express. I sit and listen. I watch and wonder.

Fair Oaks Bridge, beautiful, John Muir, days, mornings, write, nature, outdoors words, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, clouds, expression Quoting from John Muir – one of America’s most respected naturalists – reflects my own experience .

 “These beautiful days must enrich all my life. They do not exist as mere pictures. . . but they saturate themselves into every part of the body and live always.”   John Muir

My mornings usually begin with greetings from Fair Oaks Village chickens – some still hiding in bushes or trees. Others roam the streets of the neighborhood on a search for breakfast. As I approach Fair Oaks Bridge, I wonder what colors will be painted across the sky today when clouds reflect the sunrise – shades of pink, fiery orange or gold? Will I see a curtain or a blanket of fog reflecting the colored sunlight that rolls slowly downriver?

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Spider waits to capture unsuspecting prey
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A thin sheet of ice that covers the bridge deck melts away in strips in the heat of morning sun.
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She greets each morning with a series of quacks.

I listen for the daily quacks this determined duck as she patrols the American River. She is relentless; quacking for 10 minutes and hardly stopping long enough to take a breath. I can hear her voice far off in the distance as she swims away. I listen for the calls of seagulls and watch them soar high above me. Birds sing unseen in trees – a calliope, a whistle, and other chirps and calls I cannot describe. I often hear the chortle of the Great Blue Heron and honk of Canada Geese long before I see them. The Egret and Great Blue Heron always position themselves at different locations on the riverbank – staying far away from each other.

I see soft ripples widen in the water as the ducks and Canada Geese swim through the quiet river. I watch the graceful flights of snow white Egrets as they extend their long, soft wings and glide under Fair Oaks Bridge. Buffleheads dive in the center of the river channel and rise to the surface many yards away.

Photographs and written narratives record memories of these magical experiences – and create an understanding that wildlife undisturbed live by their own rhythms as we silently watch and wonder.

 

 

 

Wildlife Flyway

Sunday, February 19, 2018  645 am 47 degrees

Under partially cloudy skies,  I hear the female Mallard quacking without end. I hear her voice every time I visit Fair Oaks Bridge.

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Egret walks part way across the thin branch – then flies the rest of the way to the riverbank

Two men launch a rowboat into the American River at the boat ramp and float under the bridge and downriver to the west. The air feels warm outside at first, until I begin to feel the chill on my fingers.

Today the American River looks like a wildlife flyway. So many are flying in and away.

Usually I see one Egret flying in. Today I see a pair!

The Egrets fly under the bridge just above the surface of the water, land on the riverbank at the foot of Fair Oaks Bluffs (the north, sunny side of the river) and quickly fly back in the direction where they had come. I hear the chortle of an unseen Great Blue Heron. A dozen seagulls fly west – high for the long run – and three Mallards soar under the bridge.

I hear the female Mallard still quacking in the distance. Canada Geese fly in full animated with their loud honking to the boat launch ramp and then fly under the bridge. One settles on a concrete pillar supporting the bridge directly in front of me. It looks at me and whispers. More ducks arrive. The Egrets fly off again.

 

A Reflecting Pool

Saturday, March 3, 2018, 710 am, 37 degrees

I enjoy this stunning reflection as I walk on Fair Oaks Bridge looking east to the sunrise – Fair Oaks Bluffs lay on the left side.

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Four Canada Geese honk loudly to greet me as they fly over Fair Oaks Bridge. They land with a splash still squawking on the west side. Two more come in and what a noise! Everyone is talking this morning. One lands on the concrete pillar supporting the bridge. I stand on the bridge deck and the goose stands on the pillar alongside. Mist flows from its beak as it continues to squawk and squawk for several minutes.

Canada Goose, mornings, Fair Oaks Bridge, American River, wildlife, writing, nature, chill, whisper, honkWho is this goose calling to? What could it be saying? Finally, it quiets down and begins to whisper.

Sun emerges from the heavy cloud cover, shining in thin strips of yellow. Clouds reflect in the American River like a mirror as a thin layer of mist rolls slowly over the surface of the water. I feel the icy air of morning against my face.

Birds sing in chorus with the Canada Geese, honking once again. A single Bufflehead swims and dives in the middle of the river. It is a rare day when at least one Bufflehead is not swimming in the middle of the river diving for breakfast.

An Egret flies in, stands briefly on the boat launch ramp before flying across the river to roam the riverbank at the foot of the Fair Oaks Bluffs. A pair of Egrets fly in next and glide underneath the Fair Oaks Bridge.

Now, the morning is quiet. The sunlight casts shadows on the bridge. The reflections of clouds vanish. Several Buffleheads arrive and swim in the center of the river channel, creating a circular wake in the still, green water.