[EBB Sightings] GGAS field trip to Pt. Reyes

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Dear Birders:

Last Friday I was fortunate to join Bob Lewis' GGAS field trip to Pt. =
Reyes.  Escaping the hazy, overheated East Bay, we joined the group at =
Five Brooks parking lot.  Bob had the scope set up, focused on a Douglas =
Fir where two red-shouldered hawks were basking the sun, =
cinnamon-colored and beautiful in the early light.

Once the group was assembled (about 12 of us), we set off to follow the =
trail around the pond.  The day was delightfully fresh and fragrant, =
cool in the shade and warm in the sun.  The bays, oaks, and alders ere =
full of small birds, all active, all resembling quivering leaves to this =
less-than-sharp-eyed birder.  Bob lamented that they were the "usuals" =
-- Townsend's warblers, chestnut-backed chickadees, ruby-crowned =
kinglets, and feeding on the ground -- fox sparrows and mostly golden =
crowns calling back and forth.

The first folks at an opening with a view of the pond, flushed several =
wood ducks where were airborne by the time I caught up (rather than =
considering myself a laggard, I prefer to believe that I'm performing =
the valuable function as the "sweep").  The less-skittish birds remained =
-- several pied-billed grebes, a moorhen, and the usual mallards.

'With places to go and things to see,' we caravanned to Olema Marsh at =
the upper end of Tomales Bay.  A male cinnamon teal slipped into the =
reeds before I got my glass on him.  Not much else on the marsh or in =
the surrounding dry grass, but just seeing a healthy marsh in its =
seasonal transition colors of russet and all manner of greens was a =
treat.

Then a quick stop at nearby Whitehouse Pool (Pond?) where the first =
people at the edge of the water were in time to catch a glimpse of =
several river otters.  Old slow poke settled for disturbed water and a =
muddy bank.  We headed for Drake's Beach.  Passing through Inverness I =
eyed a toothsome-looking bakery remembering my lunch of a peanut butter =
sandwich and limp carrot sticks.  At Drake's Beach we had brief looks at =
two barn owns flying between the cypress -- handsome pale birds against =
the dark trees.  After a picnic lunch where my friend ignored my staring =
at her delicious-looking meat sandwich, we packed up for our last stop =
at the lighthouse, where I hoped for Bob's sake we would spot a rarity =
or two (some folks just can't be satisfied with a perfect day).

I declined to join the group for the trek downhill to the lighthouse and =
instead stretched out on the back seat in the sun with a delicious fresh =
breeze off the ocean coming through the opened door.  I feel off to =
sleep wondering how far that breeze had come before reaching us.

The group returned having to settle for a Say's phoebe and a Tennessee =
warbler which on closer examination morphed into an orange-crowned =
warbler.  Bob apologized (again) for not turning up more birds.  Seems =
he'd rather have wind, fog, rain -- and rarities.  I say: "Thanks, Bob, =
for such a day in one of the most beautiful parks anywhere.

-- Phila Rogers=20


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Pt.=20
Reyes.  Escaping the hazy, overheated East Bay, we joined the group =
at Five=20
Brooks parking lot.  Bob had the scope set up, focused on a Douglas =
Fir=20
where two red-shouldered hawks were basking the sun, cinnamon-colored =
and=20
beautiful in the early light.
the=20
trail around the pond.  The day was delightfully fresh and =
fragrant, cool=20
in the shade and warm in the sun.  The bays, oaks, and alders ere =
full of=20
small birds, all active, all resembling quivering leaves to this=20
less-than-sharp-eyed birder.  Bob lamented that they were the =
"usuals" --=20
Townsend's warblers, chestnut-backed chickadees, ruby-crowned kinglets, =
and=20
feeding on the ground -- fox sparrows and mostly golden crowns calling =
back and=20
forth.
several wood=20
ducks where were airborne by the time I caught up (rather than =
considering=20
myself a laggard, I prefer to believe that I'm performing the valuable =
function=20
as the "sweep").  The less-skittish birds remained -- several=20
pied-billed grebes, a moorhen, and the usual mallards.
at the=20
upper end of Tomales Bay.  A male cinnamon teal slipped into the =
reeds=20
before I got my glass on him.  Not much else on the marsh or in the =

surrounding dry grass, but just seeing a healthy marsh in its seasonal=20
transition colors of russet and all manner of greens was a treat.
people=20
at the edge of the water were in time to catch a glimpse of several =
river=20
otters.  Old slow poke settled for disturbed water and a muddy =

bank.  We headed for Drake's Beach.  Passing through Inverness =
I eyed=20
a toothsome-looking bakery remembering my lunch of a peanut butter =
sandwich and=20
limp carrot sticks.  At Drake's Beach we had brief looks at two =
barn owns=20
flying between the cypress -- handsome pale birds against the dark =
trees. =20
After a picnic lunch where my friend ignored my staring at her =
delicious-looking=20
meat sandwich, we packed up for our last stop at the lighthouse, where I =
hoped=20
for Bob's sake we would spot a rarity or two (some folks just can't be =
satisfied=20
with a perfect day).
lighthouse and=20
instead stretched out on the back seat in the sun with a delicious fresh =
breeze=20
off the ocean coming through the opened door.  I feel off to sleep=20
wondering how far that breeze had come before reaching us.
Tennessee=20
warbler which on closer examination morphed into an orange-crowned=20
warbler.  Bob apologized (again) for not turning up more =
birds.  Seems=20
he'd rather have wind, fog, rain -- and rarities.  I say: "Thanks, =
Bob, for=20
such a day in one of the most beautiful parks anywhere.

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