January 31

The mid-morning weather is pleasant for Caroline and me to hike, once again, in Torrance California’s 43-acre Madrona Marsh Preserve where a 10-ft high fence separates this limited access nature oasis from an urban setting of major human commotion. Following a perimeter path, I pause to watch a Honeybee feeding on a Pacific Willow flower and then look out on the pond to see a Wigeon duck. Still scanning the pond, a family of Northern Shovelers catch my attention while on shore, I hear the land call of a Pacific Tree Frog (stock photo). Further ahead, I spot two birds that would not be seen in Michigan, a Say’s Phoebe and a Black Phoebe. The Black Phoebe is a small North American flycatcher found throughout California and Arizona. Some believe that this bird energizes the spirits of people by their swooping flight and high-pitched chirp. Their spiritual meaning, according to Native American mythology, like other species of blackbirds is death, change, magic, or mystery. Nearby, I come upon fresh mounds and holes made by nocturnal Valley Pocket Moles (stock photo). The pocket in their name refers to two fur-lined cheek pouches used for carrying food and nest materials. These pockets open outside the mouth, can extend back to the shoulders, and can be turned inside out for emptying. Sometimes nicknamed “Nature’s rototillers”, their constant burrowing helps keep soil loosened and aerated, while burying vegetation that enriches the soil. Continuing around the perimeter, I observe yellow blossoms of Common Deerweed at my feet and a perching Lesser Goldfinch overhead. Further along, I stop to listen to the lovely song of a perching White-crowned Sparrow accompanied by traffic noise. Nearby, I watch a colorful, perching Allen’s Hummingbird fluttering its wings. Approaching the trailhead, I come upon a huge Eucalyptus tree. Moving closer, I notice a bee feeding on one of the blossoms. Eucalyptus is a fast-growing, invasive, evergreen tree native to Australia. The leaves are dried, crushed, and distilled to release oil that is used to reduce symptoms of coughs, colds, and congestion. It’s also used in ointments aimed at relieving muscle and joint pain, in antiseptics, perfumes, cosmetics, flavorings, dental preparations and industrial solvents.

 

Island of nature

Turbulent seas

Sound waves crash

Buzzing of bees

Oasis of nature

Tons of tar

Floating Mallards

Speeding car

Refuge of nature

Away from the din

Madhouse without

Sanctuary within

 

D. DeGraaf

January 24

On a beautiful, sunny afternoon, I’m hiking in the Palos Verdes Peninsula along the cliff edge of Point Vincente, taking in the breath-taking views of the Pacific Ocean shoreline. Most of these cliff rocks are sedimentary layers that extend through much of southern and central California. These ancient rocks were deposited in a deep marine environment at water depths of a mile or more, then uplifted and exposed by plate tectonic forces. The layers, from youngest to oldest, are shale, diatomite and mudstone, all of which have been studied extensively by petroleum companies who currently extract vast quantities of oil in offshore deposits.  Facing a stiff sea breeze, I notice purple blossoms of California Lilac while far down on the shore, a receding tide reveals weathered boulders and several tide pools. Continuing along the trail, I come upon a resting, White-crowned sparrow and a perching Anna’s Hummingbird. Up ahead, I see a few Tumbleweeds next to the trail. These are essentially the dead, dried-up remains of a Russian thistle plant that roll around dispersing their seeds wherever the wind takes them. As the name suggests, this invasive plant is native to Russia. In 1873, it was introduced to the U.S. by Russian immigrants and inadvertently transported to the west coast on railroad cars. Next, I spot a patch of Coastal Buckwheat. The extensive root system of these plants grip onto soil helping to prevent landslides. Also, their branches and foliage offer coverage from wind and rain that can further destabilize slopes. Nearby, I spot yellow blossoms of Bladderpod. One of the most interesting characteristics of this plant is the “aroma” produced by its leaves. It has been described as pungent, strange, disagreeable, like burnt popcorn, like bell peppers, stinky, ill-scented, evil smelling, foul smelling, even repulsive. Finally, I climb up to an observation deck to join Caroline and fellow whale watchers. As volunteer members of the American Cetacean Society, we help identify and count marine mammals, with a focus on Eastern Pacific Gray whales (stock photo) that swim by here on their lengthy migration route. These amazing creatures have the longest known migration of any mammal. They travel 10,000-12,000 miles round trip every year between their winter calving lagoons in the warm waters of Mexico and their summer feeding grounds in the frigid Arctic seas.

 

Filling the senses

More than enough

Shorebirds and surf

Sounds from the bluff

Rocks are resistant

Waves are rough

Gray whales blow

Scenes from the bluff

Quest to survive

Competition tough

Full forces of nature

Thoughts from the bluff

 

D. DeGraaf

January 17

The midmorning skies are cloudy and temperatures are in the high 50’s as Riley, Caroline and I begin hiking an earthen trail in southern California’s, 51-acre George F. Canyon Nature Preserve, one of 16 such properties on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, south of Los Angeles. Since 1988, the land conservancy here has successfully preserved 1,600 acres of open space where visitors can enjoy solitude, where children and adults can learn about the natural environment and where native plants and animals can thrive. At first, I pause to observe a honeybee feeding on fruit of a Lemonade berry tree. Also known as lemonade sumac, this shrubby evergreen is found all over southern California. Since the berries are edible, I try a few and agree they’re not as tasty as the name suggests. Nearby, I stop to pick a leaf of Black Sage and break it up to enjoy the sweet aroma. Used by some to encourage dreams and visions, this variety of sage is an herb of introspection and inner healing. When burnt before bedtime, it aids in restful sleep and pleasant dreams. Further up the trail, shared by horses, the bright red berries of a Toyon shrub catch my eye. This fruit is favored by mockingbirds, robins and cedar waxwings. Coyotes and bears also eat and disperse them. The First Peoples of California cooked ripe berries to rid them of bitter toxins, resulting in a safe to eat, but only mildly sweet pithy pulp-more of a staple food, rather than a sweet treat. Just ahead, among the lush green vegetation, it’s easy to spot a stand of deciduous Arroyo willows with their changing color leaves that also litter the trail.  Next, I hear what sounds like an injured gull. This strange birdcall comes from a wild Peacock, a common pet around here that often escapes. Turning around, I come to a dry creek bed displaying a variety of rocks including a large blue-green boulder of Catalina Schist. These ancient metamorphic rocks form the geological base of the Los Angeles basin. Nearing the car, I notice vines of Wild Cucumber (Manroot) with lots of white blossoms. These vines grow from a large, tuberous root that can extend several feet and weigh over 100 pounds. (stock photo). At this time of year, the inedible fruit (stock photo) has dried up and decomposed like this one I find lying on the ground nearby. Finally, at the trail head, the words on a sign describe well this unique ecosystem.

 

Power lines to poles

Sirens to honking horns

Acres of asphalt surround

Human houses and havoc

Retreat to nature’s respite 

A gathering of greenery

Refuge for reptiles

Oasis for insects

Magnet for mammals

Benevolence for birds

A sanctuary of sanity to

Commune with the wild

 

D. DeGraaf

January 10

Caroline, Riley and I are enjoying mid-morning sunshine and temperatures in the upper 50’s as we revisit Harbor Regional Park, 20 miles south of Los Angeles. Like most parks and preserves in this extremely urbanized landscape, this place is a much-needed refuge for wildlife as well as human visitors. My first sighting is a Prickly Pear Cactus displaying ripe, red fruit. The flavor of a cactus pear is sweet, but somewhat bland, like a melon. To prepare the fruit, one must burn off the “prickers” with an open flame and then peel it with a knife. Up ahead, in a small pond, I spot a wading Great Egret and a swimming male Northern Shoveler. The large, odd-looking bill of this duck is shaped like a shovel with fine projections (called lamellae) along the edges that act like a colander, filtering out tiny crustaceans, seeds, and aquatic invertebrates from the water. Nearing the shore of the park’s 45-acre lake, I gaze afar at a female Shoveler balancing on one foot and a perching Black-crowned night heron. These birds become more active at dusk, flying out to foraging sites, calling 'wok' as they pass high overhead in the darkness. Some studies suggest that they feed at night because they are dominated by other herons and egrets by day. Following a paved path around the lake, I notice the red fruit of both a Toyon bush and a California Pepper tree. Along the way, I come upon Coyote brush seeding out. Early Californians, because of its abundant silky-haired seeds, called this shrub “fuzzy-wuzzy”. Once again, I look far out on the lake to observe a pair of perching Double-crested Cormorants and California Gulls. The California Gull is a medium-sized gull, a bit larger than a Ring-billed Gull and smaller than a Herring Gull.  Near shore, I look at and listen to a noisy Coot swimming past me. Turning around, I pass by a Fan Palm tree and a patch of colorful Coast Sunflowers. Nearing the car, I glance up and can barely make out the markings of a perching Song Sparrow before coming upon a tree where a few Great-tailed grackles are even noisier than a nearby gaggle of geese. In the evening, raucous flocks of these grackles can pack neighborhood trees, filling the sky with their amazing (some might say ear-splitting) voices. Great-tailed and Boat-tailed grackles have at times been considered the same species. However, current thinking is that they are closely related, but different species.

 

Surface of blue

Wildlife show

Surface of white

Covered by snow

Placid and clear

Ducks dive deep

Shrouded by ice

Muskrats sleep

Waters of earth

Nature’s flair

Lakes of winter

Here and there

 

D. DeGraaf

January 3

On a sunny, cool morning in the southern California town of Manhattan Beach, Caroline, Riley and I are enjoying a leisurely hike in 18-acre, Polliwog Park. First, I gaze skyward at a leafless California Sycamore tree displaying spiky, 1-inch diameter seed balls. These balls contain tufts of fluffy tiny, winged seeds that disperse easily in spring when they fall to the ground. Then, the colorful blossoms of a Baja Fairy duster shrub catches my eye. Nearby, we pause under a Coast Live Oak tree to listen to a chorus of Song Sparrows. Up ahead, we walk by a pond where I watch a few Coots swim close to shore. During the summer, these birds are found around the freshwater lakes and ponds of the northern United States and southern Canada. During the winter they head to the southern portion of the United States from California to Florida. Proceeding along a meandering brick path, I spot a single orange blossom of a California poppy plant. As the state flower of California, people use the parts that grow above ground for medicine. Alone or in combination with other herbs, it’s used to treat anxiety, insomnia and many other conditions. However, there is no good scientific evidence to support these uses. Next, I spot a single pink blossom of a Pink Melaleuca plant. Overhead, I observe a male Goldfinch and a female House finch perching in a leafless tree. On the ground, a Song Sparrow and a Fox squirrel catch my attention. While enjoying the sound of a small babbling brook, I spot a Honeybee feeding on yellow blossoms of a Gum plant. Other colorful blossoms I see include, Salvia Bon Bon and Rosemary. Other birds I see include a Gold Crown Sparrow and California Dove. Surprisingly, these doves are legally hunted in California, mostly for sport and not for food since any edible portion of meat, once all bird shot is removed, is likely smaller than a chicken nugget.  On our way back to the car, I come upon a Fern-leaf Ironwood tree. Fossil evidence shows that this tree was more widely distributed throughout mainland California up until around 6 million years ago. Currently it only grows naturally on Santa Cruz Island off the coast. 

Nature in winter

No vista of snow

Another climate 

For me to know

No leafless forest

Or frozen pond

Coastal strolls

The sea beyond

No tracks or scat

Of whitetail deer

Birdsongs aplenty

To fill the ear

D. DeGraaf