Life Atmospheric Phenomenon

Seeing crepuscular rays at sunset is unusual, but I can remember a few in my fifty-odd years. Seeing a single beam of light going straight up is one I’ve never seen before. Known as a buddha ray, it probably has engendered numerous UFO-calls today from northern California.

This month the birth, enlightenment, and death of the Buddha are celebrated. The theory goes that any merit gained during this lunar month is magnified. May our thoughts turn to generosity and to the light.

Sketching Through The Weekend

Several sketches from a long weekend. The first at right is of a barn about a mile-and-a-half southeast of here on Eggert Road; I cycled out past there on Friday. The second at left is a scene from the Davis Farmers Market; Pete Scully who organizes the Davis Sketchcrawl chose the Farmers Market as the monthly venue for it on Saturday.

The final sketch is a little watercolor I did this afternoon showing today’s unstable skies. Mount Diablo to the south is the peak in the sketch. There were several thundershowers throughout the day. We went for a walk in the morning and got hailed upon.

February Sketchcrawl

Following the passage of a cold front, I woke up yesterday to the sight of snow sprinkled on the Vaca Mountains, and with wet-looking clouds still blowing on through this month’s Davis Sketchcrawl called for dressing warmly. Several of us sketchers met on campus at the Death Star AKA the Social Sciences and Humanities Building. The sketch at left are two views of this odd maze of a building. Fingers frozen, we headed to a nearby cafe for lunch and finished up the day only a couple hundred yards from where we began at the bus circle near the student union.

SketchCrawl 30

Today was the 30th Worldwide SketchCrawl. I’m not sure how many of these I’ve participated in, somewhere between five and ten I would guess. Pete Scully organized the Davis edition of this event; a number of us meeting at E Street Plaza in downtown Davis at 11 AM. It was a beautiful day, beckoning of spring, temperature in the mid-60s, breezy in the afternoon. That helped with the turnout, which was huge: at least 25 sketchers. We stayed within a couple of blocks of the starting point, my furthest journey being out to Ace Hardware to add a sketch to my antenna book . Pica arrived in the afternoon following leading a children’s bird count event. We sauntered forth after our traditional Saturday lunch of a burrito and soft tacos and stayed to the event’s finish at 3:30.

A Little Bit Inclement

Today was the Putah Creek Christmas Bird Count. At four I got up and it was pouring; went back to bed; got up again at 4:30, still the same. We eschewed our tentative plans to go owling and ended up getting to the base of Thompson Canyon at the very tardy hour of 9:15. It was a quagmire.

We ended up seeing really more cows than birds in oak woodland chaparral, which is not where you generally expect to see cows around here. Most of the birds on our list were heard-only. After we threw in the towel with mud up to our knees we went over to the bridge to see if we could see the dipper that’s been hanging around (no luck) but did get to see a spectacular male Barrow’s goldeneye.

Three entirely new species were added to the count list today: great-tailed grackle, evening grosbeak, warbling vireo. Tallymeister Joan Humphrey couldn’t remember a time after about the first 10 years of the count when that many new species were added. And this on a day when many people bailed early because of driving rain (it did clear up a bit in the afternoon but by then many of us had moved on to hot showers or a nap).

10.10.10 -- On this day, in this place

I lay in bed and pressed my feet together, trying to stretch my left hip. Charlie Cat heard me rustle the cover and jumped on my bladder.

I got up at 7, emptied said bladder, and fed the cats and put the tea on.

I got out the silk scarf I was knitting for an exchange and knit 20 rows.

Noticed a tortie feral cat in the alfalfa, a day after Mary took her last two cats (outdoor) to southern California. Interesting timing, yes?

I went across the road to let the chickens out, feed them, water them, watch them. They are in heavy moult, having been wormed. They all looked up, alarmed, when the yellow-billed magpies gave a three-note alarm call. False. They resumed pecking at the scratch.

I went back across the street — noticing the sparrows in Mary’s ceanothus, thinking I should draw them — and saw that Numenius was out with the cats. Diego was getting stoned on catmint, the catnip now being entirely dried out, and Charlie was on another gopher which he didn’t catch, which is most of the time.

I had breakfast at around 9:30 am, cooked nine-grain cereal with fruits, nuts, yoghurt, same as every morning. It’s usually cold by the time I get to it. I love it anyway.

Numenius went out to do a 15-minute bird count and I moved on to the sock I’m knitting, a merino-bamboo handwash-only mystery sock whose pattern is released as a series of weekly clues on Friday. I’ve nearly finished the second clue for both socks, so I’ll be well ahead of the Friday deadline. It’s looking like a gansey sampler sock but I think I’ll call mine “Nanobot in the Garden.”

I called my mother and my friend Linda, neither of whom were in. I told Mum’s answering machine I expected she was on her 3-mile Sunday walk to get the paper and I told Linda’s I’d seen the mega-rare sharp-tailed sandpiper on Wednesday, when it got called a pectoral. I hadn’t just seen it: I’d spotted it first. (Note to self: don’t just take the word of people who are “better” birders…)

Numenius went in to work. I cut up a large pile of nightshades from the garden along with zucchini and pattypans and put them in the solar cooker for a ratatouille. I washed out the three large (3- and 5-gallon) water containers that have sat outside for months so we can fill them up at the Coop’s 11% sale next weekend. Then I got on my bike and went to work too.

At work, I watered all the plants, read my email, scanned my feed reader, put some pdfs in a folder to upload (conference proceedings from last week), worked on the Audubon newsletter, farted around on Ravelry which is far more compelling than Facebook and for me much less of a timesink.

Came home and made a sandwich from natural ground peanut butter from the Coop. For a treat, I added raspberry jelly which I never do. Harry and David. I think the last time that jar was opened was the last time Linda was here, at this point years ago, she not ever considering peanut butter without jelly. That reminded me to email her that the sharp-tailed sandpiper WAS in fact seen yesterday at the bypass. She has over 750 ABA birds but that’s not one of them. She’s 3,000 miles away. I am losing my credentials as a birder fast. Somehow, this doesn’t distress me.

Turned on the Giants game after the national anthem (phew) but before the first pitch (Phew). Picked up my sock. Numenius comes in during the first inning.

We listen to the entire game, agony and all, missing god bless america but catching take me out to the ballgame, which is so very much as it should be. Giants win, 3-2. Nothing about this is easy. Game 4 tomorrow, still in Atlanta, we’ll have to put up with that horrific tomahawk chop again, makes me stabby. During the 5th inning I get the quinoa on, chopped onions (half of the insides are rotten and fetid, will make fantastic compost) sauteed in organic extra virgin olive oil from Napa.

After the game I call Andrew then Chris about delivering my ratatouille and quinoa to them as brand-new parents. Baby is still in hospital with jaundice. Andrew is getting the cable people sorted out so I see Chris and Rafael the baby, complete with purple eyemask and UV bed (needs his bilirubin count to rise before he can be allowed home). Veterinarians make bizarre mothers: they see their babies as patients.

Go to the Coop and put in a bulk order, for the 11% sale, for 25-pound bags of beans, rice, 9-grain cereal, lentils, and a 2-lb bag of Irish Breakfast tea. On the way home I shut the chickens back into their coop (it’s now dark, a waning crescent moon on its way to setting). I say goodnight, ladies, like I do every night.

Get home and serve myself some ratatouille over quinoa with a glass of Chilean red. When I get the parmesan out Diego mugs me for it.

Sit down to write a blog. This is quite the longest one in ages. Great questions of the day: will I ever be able to sit comfortably on the floor, cross-legged? And have I really entered menopause, rather than all. these. false. alarms.? Stay tuned. .

Mr. Ibis Returns

Judging by older blog posts we have a pattern here. In August when they cut the alfalfa and irrigate, the white-faced ibis having recently returned to the area from their summertime jaunts find the flooded fields and settle in for an hour or several of feeding. Often they show up quite close to the house, as they do here.

Pondering on a Podcast

I spoke with my friend Dave Bonta on the phone yesterday. He was recording. Click here
for the results…

Birdathon/Sketchathon

I’m pooped. Between the walk into the campus arboretum yesterday and today’s walk to Pedrick Road from the house, and the three blisters I have that tell me I must have walked at least eight miles, and the pages and pages of the Moleskin accordion-fold notebook that are now full bar the final page (though why they use paper that will hardly take a pen, let alone a light watercolor wash, is beyond me…), I think I’ve finished.

Worst miss: American robin. Birds I heard but couldn’t see to draw: wild turkey, orange-crowned warbler, both towhees. Most unexpected bird: American white pelican. Bird I kept trying to avoid but ultimately failed: European starling. Most spectacular save: hearing Canada geese outside as I was getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel and my pen and notebook and running outside to draw them as they flew west-southwest. (I later saw a pair with three goslings on the creek and added them to the page with the hastily-drawn flyaways.) Birds I saw but wasn’t quite fast enough to draw before they flew off: Eurasian collared dove (a first for our yard and a first for my 2010 walkabout), Western tanager. Booby prize for the bird I think I’ll never be able to draw well no matter how many times I try: Bullock’s oriole.

Oh, and the not-a-bird that stopped me dead in my tracks: the river otter in the Arboretum. I hadn’t seen them since New Year’s Day. It was about 6:30 am; I think you just have to be really early.

Total number of birds sketched: 59. I had hoped for 60. But I think I’ll call it a day. If you offered to sponsor me, thank you; if you would still like to support Yolo Audubon in this birdathon, please feel free. You can still pledge the composite list or any one of the participants. More sketches are over on Bird by Bird.

Birds and Boozers

Yesterday we went out to our Breeding Bird Atlas blocks and finally got a couple of confirmed breeding birds, plus a whole lot of probables, including a hooded oriole, red-shouldered hawk, and great-horned owl. We have been lucky to meet someone in Esparto who not only has a fabulously overgrown yard, well-stocked bird feeders, and a good diversity of birds that visit them regularly, but who is also a good birder and is willing to keep an eye on her patch for us.

Back to Davis, and Picnic Day. I volunteered to run Net Control for the first UC Davis Amateur Radio Communications group — folks wandering around Picnic Day (more than 100,000 people) were invited to report incidents that were not worth an emergency 911 call but should still be noted.

Most of the incidents yesterday involved alcohol. There was a roof party on B Street (off campus) where a young woman got seriously injured. There were reports all afternoon of alcohol-related incidents, a couple of them very serious. It seems a shame that Picnic Day has become such a magnet for people intent on getting paralytic, but there you go.

Net Control out.