Tree Swallow

OK, there’s also a cliff swallow in there. Trying a new ink, an india ink without shellac suitable for fountain pens, it doesn’t run with watercolor. I’m liking it so far… It’s called “Pen & Ink Sketch” by makers of a Moleskine lookalike sketching journal I’m finding I prefer to the Moleskine.

White-headed Woodpecker

A quick glimpse of this male, only, up at Yuba Pass on Saturday. But a lovely glimpse it was…

Back from the Sierra

Despite my own best sabotage efforts, I did end up making a sketchbook (with a yellow cover, not gray, because it’s what I had) and took it with me this weekend when we went to Sierra Valley and Yuba Pass.

Texas taught me to work fast, and that has become a useful tool. There was a lot of ground to cover and we saw a lot of birds. The technique of working in pen and then adding color later mostly works…

The Hammond’s flycatcher, left, is for my dear friend Linda, for whom it was a nemesis bird for so long (I think she reached 700 without it).

The red-breasted sapsucker, right, is for Picus, because, well, he likes woodpeckers. (We dipped on the black-backed, Christopher, but saw all the others…)

Red-shouldered Hawk with Ground Squirrel

It has been so windy here that finding birds that do more than blast by has been a challenge. (The wind is supposed to die down tonight, bringing us 100° temperatures for the next few days.)

A lot of crow squawking in the tree alerted me to this red-shouldered hawk, disappearing into the canopy with a ground squirrel. I was just able to see it through the the branches.

Pigeon Guillemot

Another treat about Alcatraz was being so close to pigeon guillemots, the large black alcid with huge white wing patches and startlingly red feet…

The biggest treat of the day, though, was this very smart five-year-old who asked intelligent questions about treating oiled wildlife. After a while I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. “Maybe work with birds,” she said. “Or maybe,” I whispered, “President of the United States.”

Eyes like saucers, she ran out with a belly laugh to her mother. “I’m not telling you what she said,” she said.

But then she did.

Western Gull

Our trip to Alcatraz was fascinating in many respects, but having nesting Western gulls so close was a treat. I sketched a lot of them, in between tending my table.

The buildings haven’t been restored much since the island was turned into a National Park, though plenty of work has been done on the gardens, a task that used to be fulfilled by inmates. The rooves, the chimneys, the parade ground were covered with nesting gulls.

The young are comical, flapping ineffectually and cheeping almost as ineffectually. Spotted fuzzballs.

Today was International Drawing Day. I did do a few sketches that weren’t of birds, including this view of San Francisco from the ferry on the way back in…

Bald Eagle and House Wrens

I took a quick trip over to the Raptor Center at lunchtime. I heard a house wren singing outside the gate but never saw it, and hoped to draw a couple of hawks.

This bald eagle is missing a wing. It’s very nervous and I try to avoid much eye contact and try to stay away as far as I can. It didn’t seem very agitated today.

As I sketched (quickly; didn’t want to disturb the bird too much) I heard house wrens — left, right, straight ahead, behind. They are small and it took a while before I found one I could see… But it kept singing and singing till I spotted it. I had no idea.

Nothing takes me out of my head as much as doing this…

House Sparrows at the Coop

I had a little wait outside the Coop at lunchtime today; was able to sketch some house sparrows that are nesting in the eaves…

Mourning Dove

This morning I spotted a Swainson’s thrush outside. By the time I’d grabbed a pen and sketchbook, it had disappeared, though I continued to hear it sing over the next couple of hours. Luckily, a mourning dove appeared just behind the pomegranate tree, so I had a go at that instead…

Black-crowned Night-Heron

They’ve irrigated the alfalfa. This springs me into action like nothing you can imagine. I have dug many ditches, planted numerous seeds, tried to keep up with the earwigs (forget it) and my body hurts so much now you’d think I’d been beaten up.

But the night-herons were all over, and I drew lots of them. The watercolor is premature: the bird’s proportion is all off — but I thought I’d include it since I didn’t get to another.

Too much ditch-digging to do.