April 1

It’s a cool, cloudy morning as Caroline, Riley and I venture in the 155-acre, Forrestal Nature Preserve, one of 12 such properties managed by a local land conversancy. First, we proceed along a narrow, earthen trail through hilly terrain where the lush landscape is colored with Coastal Sunflowers. Along the way, I pause to look at the plump flower buds of a Lemonade Berry shrub that will soon blossom out (stock photo). Near the ground, I notice a small patch of Foliose lichens growing on a decaying branch. Many birds use lichens as nesting material. The outsides of hummingbird nests are often meticulously wrapped in gray-green lichens (stock photo). Up ahead, I come upon an area surrounded by steep cliff walls that was once the site of the Livingston Rock Quarry. Operating between 1945-1956, the quarry produced granite and crushed stone used for ocean breakwaters and construction projects as well as basalt for road building. Exploring the surroundings, I observe a Spotted Towhee in the dense underbrush. These Towhees live in drier habitats than Eastern Towhees. Some scientists have suggested that the bold white spots on their backs help them blend into the sun-dappled undergrowth. Back on the trail, I spot a Minute Black Scavenger Fly resting on a rock. As the name suggests, it is a very small (1/8 inch) fly whose larva feeds on decaying plant matter and animal excrement. The adult flies often feed on nectar and can be found on flowers. After hearing its call, I gaze afar to see a Cooper’s Hawk perched atop a small tree. Feeding mostly on birds and small mammals, this medium-size hawk hunts by stealth, approaching its prey through dense cover and then pouncing with a rapid, powerful flight. Following the trail as it descends into a lush meadow, I notice a few blossoms of Lupine among a stand of Wild Mustard blossoms. Next, I pause to watch a White Garden snail crawl very slowly over a Wild Mustard leaf. The long tentacles attached to its head are filled with sensory receptors. Touching something unusual with these feelers will cause the snail to quickly retract into its shell. Also, these tentacles have acute olfactory sensors that can detect odors far away. The eye spots at the tip of these tentacles are limited to sensing only light and dark. On a nearby leaf, I spot another snail along with some of its scat. Snails defecate as often as they eat. Stools pass through their digestive tracts quickly. On the way back to the car, I pause to hear the familiar song of a Song Sparrow. After stalking it a short distance, I can barely make it out, perched on a branch.

Early spring

April’s here

Morning breaks

Skies are clear

Risen sun 

Shines for hours

Pollinators

Find their flowers

Cliffs and coves

Ocean blue

Fond memories

Final view

 

D. DeGraaf

March 25

The weather is sunny and warm, as we explore the tide pools near Cabrillo Beach. Soon, in one of the pools, I notice some tiny snail shells are crawling around. These shells are occupied by Hermit Crabs (stock photo). These decapods lack a shell, so they use an empty one from another species. Contrary to popular belief, these crabs don’t kill the snails in whose shells they make their homes. They’re actually able to smell dead or dying snails, which they will occupy. Competition for such shells can be fierce including fighting to the death in pursuit of a shell. And, as they grow, Hermit Crabs must seek out new shells in which to live. Nearby, I spot a lifeless, Two-spot Octopus with a 7-inch mantel. As with other octopi, this one is a soft bodied mollusk with eight tentacles. Like its relatives, it can change skin color and texture when hunting, hiding, mating, or responding to other stimuli. After a year of life, a fertilized female will lay an average of 70,000 eggs in a den and siphon cool water over the nest; she often dies during this period due to starvation and exhaustion. In a small puddle, I see a colorful, five-inch diameter Sunburst Anemone. Nearby, I see more of them concealed by shell fragments and other particles that adhere to the column, which folds into an encrusted oval. This appearance may serve as camouflage from predators as well as protection from solar radiation and desiccation. In another small pool, I spot some Calcareous Red Seaweed while on a nearby exposed rock some are bleached white by the sunlight. Next, I see a few one-inch, Black Turban Snails. This species has some smart escape mechanisms. If attacked by a predatory snail, it will climb on to the top of its shell. If attacked on a slope, it detaches its foot and rolls downward and away. Once the soft snail's body has perished, their unoccupied shells are a favorite of hermit crabs. Hopping over rocks, from pool to pool, I observe a mass of ¼-inch Acorn Barnacles and a cluster of Gooseneck Barnacles. Known to stick hard to the undersides of vessels, to other sea life, to each other, and to pretty much anything they come in contact with, barnacles secrete a fast-curing cement that is among the most powerful natural glues known — the glue is so strong that researchers are trying to figure out how it can be used commercially. Turning around and making my way back to the car, I come upon a four-inch, ornate shell of a Sea Urchin. While alive, this creature projects stiff spines that act as stingers (stock photo). After death, the spines break off exposing the shell.

Waves retreat

Ebb the tide

Shallow pools

Creatures reside

Exposed rocks

Edge of the ocean

Anemones

Shells in motion

Sand and sea

Predator and prey

Clinging green

Nature’s array

 

D. DeGraaf

March 18

The afternoon sky is sunny with temperatures in the mid 60’s and a cool sea breeze as Caroline, Riley and I explore rocky, White Point Beach on the Southern California coast. As the waves spill over the rocky shoreline, I pause to notice a perching Western Gull and a perching Whimbrel. Near my feet, Ground Squirrels scurry among the large boulders where they’ve built a network of tunnels. Away from the water, I look up the cliff at the rock face, outlined against an azure blue sky. Nearby, I notice both a large patch of Prickly Pear cacti and Ice Plant are blanketing the slope to stabilize it against future landslides. Gazing skyward, I watch three Brown Pelicans soar overhead. On the ground, I pass by a large boulder of volcanic Pumice and some shells of Blue Mussels before I pause to observe an invasive White Snail feeding on Wild Mustard leaves. Sometimes known as the Italian white snail, this gastropod can be a serious pest of landscape ornamentals, including trees, shrubs, groundcovers, and herbaceous plants. Although it has been established in California for at least 100 years, it has been mostly inactive until recently. Next, I pause to listen to a peeping sound from the ground. Eliminating the source as a bird song, it can be from a tiny frog called a Spring Peeper. However, while this amphibian is common in Michigan, it has never been officially reported in California. The only other possibility is it’s one of the many sounds made by an insect called a Katydid (stock photo). Just ahead, a ½ inch resting Flesh Fly catches my eye. The life cycle of their larvae has been well researched and is very predictable. Different species prefer human bodies in different states of decomposition, and the specific preferences and predictable life cycle timings allows forensic entomologists to understand the progress of decomposition and enables the calculation of the time of death. Turning around to retrace my steps, I spot a Rock Wren, perched on a rock. This bird usually builds a pavement or walkway of small, flat stones that leads to the nest cavity (stock photo). The nest is usually located in a rock crevice out of sight, but the pavement may give away the nest's location. In some cases, both foundations and walkways become elaborate, incorporating hundreds of objects, many human-made. The function of this pavement is unknown. Focusing once again on the surf zone, I notice several Cormorants perching on a black, rocky islet. Making my way back to the car, I catch a brief glimpse of a few dolphins surfacing in the glistening water. 

Month of March

Halfway through

Edge of spring

Ocean blue

Hail to Neptune

God of the sea

Vista so vast

Waves so free

From rolling surf

To pelicans high

Nature’s artist

Paints the sky

 

D. DeGraaf

March 11

The early afternoon skies are sunny with temperatures in the mid 60’s as Caroline, Riley and I begin our hike in Harter Park on the Palos Verdes Peninsula. This property, located in a residential area, is a steep canyon that has been preserved for both storm drainage and a wildlife sanctuary. Soon, I come upon blossoms of Bermuda Buttercup. Also known as sour grass, this plant originated in the Cape region of South Africa and is now found all over California. Considered a weed, the edible flowers and leaves of this plant add a lemony flavor to salad greens. Further down the trail, I pass an outcrop of a rock called Altamira Shale, a thin-bedded sedimentary bedrock formed by successive layers of clay and volcanic tuff. Nearby, up on the grassy bank, I spot a blossom of Sulfur Cosmos and one of Wild Lupine. Lupines are legumes and like most of that family, their roots have nodules (stock photo) that contain a very special bacterium, Rhizobium. These bacteria are able to convert atmospheric nitrogen into nitrate, a form that can be absorbed and used by the plant.  For that reason, legumes are commonly planted as a “green manure” crop in order to renew the nitrogen content of the soil. Glancing toward the other side of the trail, I notice white blossoms of a native Wild Cucumber vine along with a single hanging fruit. Unlike the domesticated cucumber, this green, spiky, golf-ball size fruit is inedible by humans and wildlife. Following the trail as it loops back to the other side of the canyon, I pause to listen to the song of a seldom-seen, but often heard, Orange-crown Warbler. The namesake orange crown patch is rarely seen but may become visible when the bird raises its head feathers in excitement or agitation (stock photo). Looking down slope into the canyon, I spot the branches of a Blue Coast Redwood tree with its flat needles. As one of the most iconic plants and a keystone native species of the coastal ranges of Oregon and California, some of these trees are known to be the tallest and oldest on earth. Approaching the car, the red fruit of a Toyon tree catches my eye. These berries were eaten by native Americans who would usually roast or boil them to remove the bitter taste; sometimes drying them for future cooking. Early settlers cooked these berries into pies and custards and fermented them into a cider. Members of the Kumeyaay tribe made a pulp of the leaves and used this as a wash for sores. Because the wood of Toyon is very hard, the Chumash Indians used it extensively for tools and weapons. 

Let me reach as a willow

To touch the sky

Let me flutter and float

As a butterfly

Let me sing as a wren

From the branch above

Harmonize

With a Mourning Dove

Let me soar as a hawk

O’er the sunny lea

If only an hour

I wish I could be

 

D. DeGraaf

March 4

Under partly sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 60’s, Caroline and I are on the Palos Verdes Peninsula at Pt. Vincente scanning the ocean for whales. As volunteers for the Gray Whale Census and Behavior Project, we spend four hours each week counting these magnificent marine mammals (stock photo) as they migrate up and down the California coast. From my perch on the deck, I gaze southwest at the rugged coastline, the open water and a barely-visible, Catalina Island on the horizon. Looking more closely, I notice a few Cormorants resting on a rock below. In dense vegetation next to the deck, I spot a few perching White-crowned Sparrows while overhead a flock of soaring Brown Pelicans catch my attention. Suddenly, one of the spotters yells, “blow” as we focus our binoculars on the open ocean. Soon, a couple of Gray whales surface and are photographed by a fellow observer with a high-powered, telephoto lens. During one of the lulls, I leave the deck and follow a path north along more of the rugged coastline before I pause to observe a perching California Towhee. Poison oak is one of the hazards of outdoor recreation in California. It lines trails and covers hillsides, seemingly lying in wait to inflict its itchy, weeping rash on the unwary. But it’s also an integral part of the landscape and part of the daily life of California Towhees. Many towhees build their nests in poison oak and feast on the plant’s copious crops of pale white berries. Along the way, I notice blossoms of Sea-lavender swaying in the breeze and a Bumble Bee feeding on blossoms of Milkvetch. Turning around, I observe the tiny blossoms of Cranesbill Geranium and the variable-colored blossoms of Garland Daisy. Back on the deck, Caroline & I are pleased to observe and count several more Gray whales, for a count total of 11, 10 northbound and 1 southbound. Unfortunately, the overall numbers for the season are following a dramatic downward trend. Flash back to 2016. At that time, about 27,000 gray whales swam along 5,000 miles of Pacific coastline. They spent their winters in the warm waters off Mexico raising their young and their summers up north in the Arctic, feeding on crustaceans and other bottom dwellers. Today, the population is around 15,000, continuing the rapid decline. Researchers blame most of this on climate change, especially in the Arctic, where Gray whales spend their summers bulking for the arduous journey. Warmer water means less sea-ice cover, nutrients and access to high quality food sources resulting in emaciated whales that die along the way.

 

Start of March

Noon of the day

Land meets sea

Nature’s array

Breaking waves

Rumble and roar

Pounding surf

Hammering shore

Silent seconds

Momentary lull

Concert continues

Shrieking gull

 

D. DeGraaf