I take a lot of photos walking and cycling along the American River Parkway. Here is a sampling of what I found in the past week that did not fit into other blog posts.
Images Along the American River and Parkway
Lizard Pushups a Morning Ritual
Thursday, June 22, 2017 710 am 83 degrees
My first view of the American River is watching Canada Geese glide lazily down the river on the current. Water tinted with shades of blues and greens shimmers in the morning sun.
I arrive on my bike at the boat launch ramp minutes after crossing Jim’s Bridge. No clouds visible in the deep blue sky. I throw grapes sliced in half to a duck who sees me tossing them. The duck not only refuses to eat the grapes, it complains about it with a rude quack, as if to say, “Where is the good stuff I can eat?” and waddles away.Read more
Bottoms Up!
The Boat launch ramp near Fair Oaks Bridge is an ideal site to watch Mallards and Canada Geese begin their mornings – eating and socializing. Are bobbing heads the way to say “Good Morning” in duck speak?
Bottoms up!
Some mornings are far busier than others. Other visitors tell me they have seen a beaver busily stripping the meat from a salmon, an otter family on a leisurely early morning swim and a wayward seal found its way up river.
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.”
I 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.
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?
Two Turtles Sunbathe at the American River
Thursday, July 20, 2017, 715 am 68 degrees
I begin the day by listening to the chicken’s morning calls in Fair Oaks Village. I stop and enjoy their morning concert.
Today a pale blue, cloudless sky is tinged with gray at the horizon. A gentle breeze blows on Fair Oaks Bridge as sunlight glares on the water. I meet a couple looking over the side of the bridge and ask what they are looking at. They are looking for the beaver that was eating a salmon whole by stripping the meat right off the bones. They showed me where to look on the shoreline to find its home. I also found out they sighted two river otters and a seal that wandered far from its home turf into the American River one day.Read more
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.
One 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.
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.
On 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.
Ducks Dance on the American River
Thursday, July 27, 2017 1pm
Today I watched ducks dance in the river!
My daughter and son feed ducks pretzel sticks and fruit pieces. We walk across Fair Oaks Bridge and see Canada Geese on its west side. The water is very still, and shaded green as a huge reflective pool. Dragonflies land on a nearby bush. The solo white duck joins the Mallards in a quest for food. I watch one of the ducks climb the riverbank as if it were stairs. Finding no food or anything else interesting, it turns around and waddles down the hill into the water.
We spread our beach towels on a shady riverbank in sight of Fair Oaks Bridge. Rafts are inflated. We open lunch bags and enjoy simple snacks. A few people pass on their way somewhere else. We enjoy a peaceful afternoon with no one nearby. I walk into the river to cool off and enjoy a show of dancing ducks.
Webs, Wildlife and Wonder
Wednesday, August 2, 825 am 78 degrees
Walking from the Fair Oaks Clubhouse, I hear chickens call their good morning song. Met a photographer on my way to Fair Oaks Bridge taking photos of bunnies hiding under bushes. We think someone left them here to live in the wild, instead of a home.
Two ducks swim in the American River to the boat launch ramp. A group of a dozen young women out for a morning run. A lone boater casts his line. Walkers stroll by. The water under the bridge is so clear, I can see the stones lining the river bottom.
As soon as I arrive at the bridge, a cyclist begins chatting on his phone with a friend about politics. Speaking loudly, pacing back and forth, I begin my daily observations and try to ignore him. Other people walk on the bridge and cross without stopping to look at the view. They remain engaged in conversation. Occasionally I point out intricate spider webs to people who say, “Good morning.” A group of three women walk past me and admire my colorful socks.Read more
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?
Crossing 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.
Cyclists 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.
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.
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.
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.