Crow, cat; a quick post

They're both black.

Crow on a windy beach. All black, even the "whites" of his eyes.

Same crow, waiting for a handout.

And Chia the cat. The "white" of her eyes is yellow.

Tomorrow, a caterpillar bed, I think.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Un cuervo, y la gatita, "Chia"; en la categoría de "Cosas negras".

Approved

 A crow reads a sign:

Yes, of course crows can read. They're smart!

Text of sign: 

DO NOT CUT OR REMOVE

WOOD OR ROCKS

FROM FORESHORE

STABILIZATION WORKS

(Logo) BRITISH COLUMBIA 

The rest is illegible.

See, he approves. Left his signature!

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Un cuervo lee un aviso que dice:

PROHIBIDO CORTAR O REMOVER

MADERA O PIEDRAS

DE LAS OBRAS DE ESTABILIZACIÓN

DE LA PREPLAYA

(Logo)

COLOMBIA BRITÁNICA

Y se va, dejando atrás su marca de aprobación.

:)

Weedy

These are a few more photos from the low tide on Stories Beach last week. Mostly seaweeds, in this  batch.

Sea lettuce, Ulva sp. and a small kelp. The kelp holdfasts dig into the rock, penetrating (and making) cracks. The tiny "fingers", called haptera, secrete a glue that hardens on contact with sea water.

This area of the beach is thickly coated with a good mix of  seaweeds; sea lettuce, kelps, rockweed,  sargassum, an almost black,wiry, tough fiber, little yellowish, bubble-like sacs, and a spaghetti-like red alga. With the occasional fragment of Turkish towel and eelgrass. The crow had been digging through it all.

New sargassum stems. And fragments of sea lettuce; it's everywhere.

More seaweed-coated rocks.

Tidepool on the edge of the seaweedy area. Mostly sea lettuce here.

Tomorrow: things in holes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Estas son fotos de un area de la zona intermareal que está cubierta de algas marinas.

1. Lechuga marina, Ulva sp., y quelpo. Esta alga marina no tiene raices, pero se adhiere a la roca con un disco de adhesión, que penetra las grietas en la roca con estructuras parecidas a dedos finitos, llamadas hapteras. Al ponerse en contacto con una superficie sólida, producen un pegamento que se endurece en agua salada.
2. Esta area de la playa está cubierta con una gran variedad de algas: Ulva sp. (lechuga marina); Fucus sp.; Sargassum muticum; una fibra dura, como alambres, casi negra; unas bolsitas amarillas; un alga roja parecida a espagueti; y fragmentos de toalla Turka y Zostera marina. El  cuervo había estado escarbando entre las piedras.
3. Sargassum muticum.
4. Otras rocas cubiertas de algas.
5. Y una poza mareal donde termina el alga y empieza la arena.

Para mañana, animales escondidos.

A couple of hunters.

Crows are scavengers, eating almost anything they find, usually anything left out in the open, easy pickings. On the shore, that may be anything from a hermit crab too slow to get undercover at low tide, to taco chips left by human beachgoers. This was the first time I've seen one actually work for his supper.

Here he is, looking over a snail. But no, he had other ideas.

It's in this clump of rockweed.

He dug at this rockweed for a while, ripping out plants and tossing them aside. The one in the photo is the third I saw him tear out. He dug out an oyster shell and threw that away, too. His target was hiding deep underneath; a rockweed isopod, a 3 cm. long, squirmy, leggy morsel. 

Got it!

Rockweed isopod. They hide at low tide, and cling tightly to the seaweed; it's not easy to pull them off.

Herons are always hard workers, intense stalkers. The little fish found in tidepools are elusive; as I walk towards a pool, I see movement; a ripple and no more. The fish have seen my shadow and are now hiding. And though I stand perfectly still, they don't show themselves again until I've lost patience and moved on. The herons are more patient than I. And faster than the fishes. This one caught two fish while I watched.

Standing perfectly still, pretending to be another rock.

Mouthful

A heron eats about 1/2 kilo of fish every day, twice that in breeding season. That's a lot of little fishies!

And I came too close. On to the next pool!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Los cuervos son carroñeros; comen casi cualquier cosa que descubren, generalmente alguna cosa  abandonada; hallazgos fáciles. En la playa, recogen desde un cangrejo ermitaño que no se escondió a tiempo hasta tostadas dejadas por humanos haciendo picnic. Esta fue la primera vez que he visto que un cuervo haga algún trabajo para ganarse la cena.

1. Aquí está, mirando un caracolito. Pero no, no se le antojaba.
2. Lo que quería estaba escondido bajo este grupo de fuco, algas marinas pardas. Se ocupó por un tiempo arrancando plantas y tirándolas a un lado. La que tiene en la foto es la tercera que vi. Luego encontró un ostión; eso también sacó y desechó. Por fin capturó lo que buscaba; un isópodo de alga parda, un bocado patudo de unos 3 cm. de largo.
3. Aquí lo tiene.
4. Isópodo de Wosnesenski. Se esconden bajo las algas y se agarran fuertemente; es difícil arrancarlos.
5. Las garzas, en cambio, son trabajadores muy dedicados. Los pescaditos que se encuentran durante la marea baja son tímidos; caminando hacia una poza intermareal, veo algo que se mueve; una ondulación repentina, y nada más. Los pescados vieron mi sombra, y ahora están escondidos. Y aunque me detengo largo rato sin moverme, no vuelven a salir hasta que me haya ido, habiendo perdido la paciencia. La garza es mucho más paciente. Y ataca rapidamente; es más veloz que los pescaditos.  Capturó dos en unos minutos mientras yo observaba.
6. Un bocadito. Las garzas comen medio kilo de pescados a diario; ¡un buen número de pescaditos!
7. Y me acerqué demasiado.

On the edge

When I visit a beach at a low tide, the first thing I do is walk out to the very edge of the water, and stand there for a couple of minutes, watching to see if the tide is coming or going, to calculate how much time I have to poke around. On a flat beach, an incoming tide can race, sometimes faster than I can walk safely; it doesn't do to get trapped.

Here, the tide was just about to turn; each tiny wavelet reached a level a hair's breadth lower than the previous one. Going out, but barely.

So: water's edge photos.

Intersection. Sand to my left, seaweed and stones to my right. A crow with something yummy.

Flat, but stony and slippery. Glacier scrapes. The area I left for next time, when the tide is still going out and I don't have to hurry.

Not the head of a giant seal.

Eelgrass being pushed towards the shore.

Last month, I was wondering how the eelgrass left on the sand by the outgoing tide ended up mainly pointing inshore. Now, with the water neither coming nor going, I watched several clumps of eelgrass still underwater. And they all floated with the roots towards the water, the tips towards shore. With each incoming wavelet, they lifted slightly, swished shorewards. As the waves retreated, they settled on the sand. So the outgoing water wasn't moving them, only the incoming waves.

That would explain the huge rows of piled seaweeds at high tide line after a storm, too. I've often wondered about that. Outgoing water pulls down towards the sand (or rocks), incoming waves lift and push.

Starfish looking for shelter beside the wrong rock.

Most of the starfish I passed had hidden themselves on the shady side of rocks with tidepools. A couple were just too far away and lay exposed on the sand, but still close enough to the water that the incoming tide would cover them in short order. They'd be ok. They're an intertidal species, adapted to survive several hours out of water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cuando me encuentro en una playa con la marea baja, lo primero que hago es caminar hasta el mero borde del agua; allí me detengo unos minutos, observando para ver si sube o si baja el agua, con el fin de calcular cuanto tiempo me queda para explorar. En una playa poca inclinada, la marea, subiendo, puede correr, a veces más rapidamente de lo que yo puedo caminar con seguridad.

Este dia, la marea estaba casi a su punto más bajo; cada olita alcanzaba un nivel apenas milímetros más bajo que la ola previa. La marea salía, pero estaba al punto de volver.

1. Donde se encuentran dos tipos de playa; a la izquierda hay arena limpia; a la derecha, rocas y algas marinas. Un cuervo trata de abrir algo, un mejillón, tal vez, o un caracol marino.
2. Esta parte de la playa es resbalosa, llena de piedras movedizas; terreno formado por glaciares camino al mar. Un sitio que dejé para otro dia, cuando pueda seguir la marea mientras bajaba, para evitar apuros.
3. No es la cabeza de una foca gigante. Aunque así parece.
4. Hierba marina Zostera, empujada por las olas, apuntando hacia la tierra. 
   
   El mes pasado, me preguntaba como es que la hierba dejada en la arena por el agua que se aleja de la playa reposa apuntando hacia tierra firma. Ahora, cuando el agua ni venía ni se iba, observaba varios grupos de esta hierba que seguían bajo las últimas olitas. Y todos flotaban con las raices mar adentro, las puntas hacia tierra firma. Con cada ola, se levantaban las hojas un poquito, moviéndose hacia la playa. Y al regresar la ola, se asentaban sobre el sustrato. Así que el agua que se retiraba no las empujaba, sino solamente las olas que se rompían en la arena.
   
   Eso explicaría también los montones de algas marinas muertas que quedan a la linea de altamar después de una tempestad, algo que me ha intrigado muchas veces. El agua que se va arrastra la hierba hacia abajo, contra el sustrato; olas que vienen la levantan y la impulsan hacia la tierra.
   


5. Estrella de mar, buscando albergue al lado de una roca inadecuada.

La mayoría de las estrellas de mar que vi se habían escondido en las pozas mareales en la sombra de rocas grandes. Unos cuantos les había sorprendido la marea demasiado lejos de las piedras y se quedaban expuestas al aire y al sol. Pero estaban suficientemente cerca del agua para que la marea les cubriría en poco tiempo. Son una especie intermareal, y están adaptadas para sobrevivir varias horas fuera del agua.

Black and beautiful

 Crow on a park bench.

Blue-black and glossy. Poses for me, knowing he's gorgeous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Un cuervo común. Se queda quieto para que le saque la foto. Sabe que es bello.

Lazy birding

Stiff and sore from too much squinting at the computer screen, too cold (maybe too lazy), once I got outside, to face a long walk in the woods or on the windy shore, I chose instead to drive around in circles, south, north, east, looking for birds to watch from the car. 

Like these:

Cormorants on a float

I see these sitting on the float every time I drive by, always too far for a good look, so I go on by. Not this time. Taken from the car window.

UPDATE: These are Brandt's cormorants. They're in breeding plumage and have the blue skin patch on their throat (the gular pouch). The one just behind the metal circle has inflated his pouch; in the next photo I took, it had shrunk.

No birds.

I've seen flocks of trumpeter swans and Canada geese in this field before. Yesterday, there were none. Not even a stray crow. Drive on!

I was watching the treetops as I drove, searching for eagles. None to be seen; they're all probably down at the shore for the herring spawn.

Marching pigeon

At Tyee Spit, I finally found my birds. (And got out of the car, briefly.) I love the colours on this pigeon!

A crow eating my cat food crumbs, quietly.

Gull, being quiet. Between screeches.

Mallard female, Tyee Spit, showing off her so-blue speculum.

And this was not a bird, but I found it at the bird blind so it belongs here, right?

The first pussywillows I've seen this spring. Begging to be petted!

And there was a whole flock of mallards. About them, tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Estaba tiesa y adolorida por pasar demasiado tiempo doblada en frente de la computadora. Y cuando salí de la casa, hacía frio, no me daba ganas de caminar en el bosque o al lado del mar donde el viento trae hielo. (Y tal vez se podría decir que sentía un poco de flojera.) Decidí, pues, manejar en círculos, buscando pájaros que podría ver y fotografiar desde el coche.

Fotos:

1. Como estos cormoranes. Siempre los veo al pasar, pero están tan lejos que no me detengo. Ahora sí. Son comoranes de Brandt, en plumaje nupcial, y la piel de la garganta es de un azul vívido. El que está atrás del círculo de metal acaba de inflar esta piel, llamada la bolsa gular.
2. Campo sin pájaros. En otras ocasiones, he visto aquí los gansos de Canadá, y grupos de cisnes trompeteros. Esta vez, ni uno había. Ni siquiera un cuervito. ¡Adelante! Iba viendo las copas de los árboles, esperando ver águilas. Nada. Creo que todos están en las playas, para aprovechar el desove de los arenques.
3. Y en Tyee Spit, encontré bandadas de pájaros. Entre ellos, esta palomita con sus colores tan vivos. (Aquí me atreví a salir del coche.)
4. Un cuervo comiendo mis migajas de comida seca de gato. En silencio, pues estamos en Zona Tranquila.
5. Y una gaviota, en silencio momentario. En un minuto va a estar gritando de nuevo.
6. Una pata "mallard" (ánade azulón), mostrando su espéculo azul.
7. Y esto no es pájaro, pero lo vi en el puesto de observación de aves; cabe entre los aves, ¿no?

Y hubo una bandada grande de patos "mallard", que dejo para mañana.

A hard nut to crack

 Seen on Stories Beach:

A flock of crows were feeding among the rocks while the tide was out.

But what has that crow in front found?

Whatever it was, he's dropped it. And isn't happy. He's attracted a potential walnut thief.

Did you take it?

He's found it again, and carried it to a larger rock to work on it safely.

I think it's a walnut. I had passed several walnut shells discarded among the rocks nearby.

Can't get inside, can't break it. Pounding it on the rock may work. He hopes.

No. Still closed.

And he picked it up and flew off, closely followed by the hopeful thief. I wonder if he tried to drop it on the rocks, like the gulls do with clams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Observado en la playa Stories, en la zona intramareal. Una bandada de cuervos busca comida entre las rocas y las algas.

Un cuervo ha encontrado algo que parece ser una nuez. Yo había visto varias cáscaras de nuez tiradas cerca de este lugar.

Primero, se le cae entre las rocas, y no se siente tan contento, pero luego la encuentra otra vez y la lleva a una roca más grande para tratar de abrirla. Sin éxito; y la toma en el pico y se va volando, perseguido por el otro, que aparentemente espera poder robársela.

Me pregunto si tratará de dejarla caer sobre las rocas para romperla, como lo hacen las gaviotas con las almejas.

Black and blue

It's raining and blowing and grey out there these last few days. But not so long ago, the skies were blue, blue, blue. Cold air seems to bring out the colour.

Crow and bare branches, Oyster Bay.

Another crow, with the last of the yellow leaves.

Side eye

Why, when there's a nice tree so handy, must this youngster insist on parking on piles of trash and rusted machinery? I gave up and caught him on a collection of old barrels.

Young crow, not pleased with me.

Gold River.

A quibble

I must go down to the sea again,
To the lonely seas and the sky,
And all I ask is ...
(Apologies to John Masefield)

A dose of reality: that loneliness is deceptive. The sea has no space for loneliness. Under that apparently calm surface are teeming multitudes of busy lives.

And the sky; from here, we don't see the mobs of mosquitoes, flies, butterflies, ballooning spiders, and the like. The swallows see them though, and dart through the clouds collecting supper for the little ones.

I had gone down to the boat ramp to get new water for my aquarium. The day was cool and grey, welcome after a taste of summer; as I left, it was starting to rain. The tide was turning and everything, air and water and rocks, seemed momentarily in stasis.

One "lonely" crow.

But there were crabs and jellyfish in the water at the foot of the ramp, snails and barnacles on the rocks. And that crow is watching a quarrel, a horde, a squabbling, shrieking, greedy melee of gulls, fighting over the cat food I had just left at water's edge. (The cats had rejected it. I think they read the labels and refuse to taste anything other than the most expensive brands. But it was full of fish and chicken innards and ground corn and fish oils; ideal gull food. They had left all their perches on the rocks around to come to the party.)

A few seconds later, the crow joins the fun.

Fishing harbour seal, leaving the school to come and see what was going on on shore.

Every so often, out in the channel another black head would pop up. Harbour seals, following a school of fish. I counted four heads up at the same time: no telling how many were down there feasting.

One of the gulls on the boat ramp, taking a breather. The food's almost all gone, anyhow.

... And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

Can't argue with him there!

Back to business

I'm back. The world's too good to ignore.

Paces to go, things to do ...

Crow and new leaves

Caught in passing ...

He looks upside-down, but he's just turning to watch me as he goes.

Half-seen birds

... at Kitty Coleman Park.

Cawing crow, mostly in silhouette. On a hemlock branch.

Happy harlequins, on a calm sea.

And in the forest, a woodpecker pounded away on a tree, over and over, pausing between each sequence; to dig out a grub? Listen for fleeing grubs? Wait for his brain to stop ringing? Not long, anyhow. I heard him, walked down the trail until I located the tree, and stood squinting against the light, trying to see the bird. Impossible. Until he decided to switch trees, and I caught a glimpse of his shadow as he disappeared behind a fat old Douglas fir.

In three words

Happy dance

Yum!

That's all.