Squirrel Comedy

Hey squirrel! Whatcha lookin' for there on that fence?

Signs of summer: "molten" geese, but no hot lava

As if to flaunt the fact that feathers are unique to them, birds use their feathers almost constantly, mostly to fly away from people who are jealous of their featheriness and trying to take some for themselves. Although feathers are durable, all that evasive action takes its toll, and eventually the feathers get all ratty. The edges fray and the fibers don't clump together so well anymore. Birds that get their food from the local sandpaper factory need to replace their feathers constantly, but for most birds, the process happens one or two times a year. Some birds molt into and out of breeding plumage, like renting a tux for prom night. Others look the same before and after, replacing a few worn feathers at a time until they have an all new set.

Ducks and geese undergo "synchronous molting," which is something like going on What Not to Wear, where they throw all your old clothes away into a giant trash can, your closet is empty, and you feel Very Cranky. Geese take about two to three weeks to fill the metaphorical trash can with their old feathers, but you can bet that they are also Very Cranky while it's happening.

Each summer, the number of geese at the lake increases from a few hundred to almost 2,000, according to surveys by the Lake Merritt Institute. They come seeking to leave their gloppy green poop on our clean sidewalks. Also they need a safe place to hang out while Stacey and Clinton pick out their new outfits for them.

How can you tell if a goose is molting, or how likely it is to hiss at you and make fun of your glasses to hide its insecurity about being flightless? An easy way is to look at the butt. A goose which has shed its primaries will have a fully visible tail, and you can also see a white butt stripe as the goose shakes its booty. Two of the geese in the picture below are of the extra cranky no-primaries variety. The third goose, closest to the camera, has already grown new primaries, and they come to a point above the tail, giving its butt a kind of 1950s pointy Maidenform bra look.

Another way to tell whether a goose's feathers have that not-so-fresh feeling is to look at the color at the edge. A new feather will be uniformly dark; an old feather will have a pale and raggedy edge. You might have to click the picture below to see, but like a well-loved stuffed animal that is about to become Real, this goose has some ratty secondaries (and some new primaries).
Some geese have problems as young birds: their wingbones distort and their feathers grow in all crazy. This disease is optimistically called "Angel Wing" and is believed to occur when developing youngsters eat too much protein, e.g. Cool Ranch Doritos. Another argument against feeding birds human food...

Such birds are sad to watch, but overall their chances of survival at the lake are probably better than elsewhere--with islands to hide on and entire lawns of grass to eat, it's practically as cushy as a Motel 6.

And, as you'll see in the next post, there's WAY more hanky panky at the lake than in a lousy old motel!

Hybrid Love!

Remember earlier when I wrote about the domestic-Canada goose hybrid pair? Well, it looks like they may have had some success in the baby department:

But wait! A THIRD goose is accompanying them as well! Which of these geese is genetically responsible for the babies? Until they make it onto an episode of Goose's Court, where Judge Goosy can require a paternity test, only they will know for sure!
Multiple adults caring for offspring is not uncommon in the bird world. (And in fact, not too long ago I posted about the group of 6-8 geese that seemed to be raising their goslings all together...) Sometimes one of the adults is a pair's child from a previous year. Other times, unrelated adults form cooperative groups. Recent studies that analyze the DNA of the young of supposedly monogamous pairs indicate that having a little something on the side is actually quite common in birds. More than half of a given clutch could be somebody else's! So, it's a strong possibility that this group of goslings are all candidates for My Two Dads. Either way, the young of such a group benefit from the extra Wii games and candy bars provided by a bonus relative.

Speaking of hybrids, I spotted this shocking scene taking place inside the Bird Dome:

Domestic-on-wild mallard action! But WAIT. That distinctive green head and yellow beak of the bottom duck signify a mallard--a MALE! Shouldn't he be on top? What's going on here exactly?

We can't know the sex of the white duck for sure, but cases of male-on-male duck action are documented in Blue Ducks and also, believe it or not, in alive-on-dead mallards, so this scenario is not that implausible. Some studies suggest that animals in captivity are more likely to engage in same sex coupling, perhaps as a stress release, possibly due to a shortage of the preferred sex, or because they're bored since they don't have cable in there. Or maybe they just like it that way.

Want more detail? Try this article from Scientific American:
Bisexual Species: Unorthodox Sex in the Animal Kingdom

As a side note, I installed Google analytics on my blog and found that I got the most hits on the day I posted the pigeon money shot. Wonder if this post will cause another spike? I might even reach a record *13* page views!

Never underestimate the importance of a body language (HA!)

One topic that's more easily researched via the internet is the American Coot. Many of the papers available online were written by one Gordon G. Gullion, who studied coots back in the 1950s, right here in Lake Temescal and Jewel Lake (in Tilden). One of his papers that I got interested in describes the displays, or body language, or the coots. I started looking for these different supermodel poses on the coots of Lake Merritt and trying to capture them. Here are a few of the displays he describes:

1. Charging. One coot sees another one getting too close to its space, or its lady, or its bit of goopy algae. It raises its little neck feathers, puts down its head, and rushes toward the offending coot. FIERCE!



2. Paired Display, which Gullion says is a sort of pacification gesture that both coots do after the aggression is over: "Sorry I charged you, man."

"That's cool, that's cool. I was going back to my own side of the lake anyway."


Here's a link to another interesting article about coots.

In Which Night Heron Takes a Bath (courtesy of AA Milne)

I happened to be contemplating the bird lagoon's algae, feather, and poo levels (=high) when I spotted this night heron doing something unusual. Not so much bathing as just.... standing. In a melancholy sort of way.

I think AA Milne can help tell this story, with Night Heron is playing the Part of Eeyore:


"Night Heron, what are you doing there?" said Rabbit.

"I'll give you three guesses, Rabbit. Digging holes in the ground? Wrong. Leaping from branch to branch of a young oak tree? Wrong. Waiting for somebody to help me out of the river? Right. Give Rabbit time, and he'll always get the answer."

"But, Night Heron," said Pooh, "was it a Joke, or an Accident? I mean - "
"I didn't stop to ask, Pooh. Even at the very bottom of the river, I didn't stop to say to myself, `Is this a Hearty Joke or the Merest Accident?'. "

"I just floated to the surface and said to myself, `it's wet'. If you know what I mean. "


"When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there."


"Oh, Night Heron, you are wet!" said Piglet, feeling him.

Night Heron shook himself, and asked somebody to explain to Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite a long time.


"I don't hold with all this washing," grumbled Night Heron. "This modern behind-the-ears business."

Plants in a salt marsh

A long time ago, Heidi asked me what kind of plants you'd expect to see at Lake Merritt if it wasn't all paved and landscaped.

I started collecting photos a while ago and came up with a few that are growing through the cracks: First, salt marsh gumplant, a cheerful looking weedish thing which apparently makes great stilts for marsh mice that don't want to get their feet wet at high tide.

Pickleweed. Shaped like a pickle, and salty like one too.

This weekend Tom and I went out to Middle Harbor Shoreline Park, a scrappy little parcel of beach that affords a great view of SF, as well as a few more salt marsh plants.

We found a species of buckwheat:

And a kind of aster, which I think is called "Seaside Dasiy."

And of course, what blog post would be complete without a bird skeleton?! We found an ex-cormorant. Cause of death: nosy photographers.

One thing you can see in this picture is the way the flight feathers are actually attached directly to the wing bones (not the skin). Those things are really stuck in there, together forever, huh?

Check it out, even with this crappy camera-phone picture, you can kinda see that the cormorant's eye ring is still in the socket. Cool.

Sunset Discoveries

Just a little loop around the lake. Lots of blooming things:


A little wasp nest at the entry to the sensory garden:

The sun was getting low by the time we reached the other side of the lake:

Great blue heron out hunting:


And the goose family co-op, silhouetted against the city:
Last time we counted 33 goslings and 8 adults. This time 30 goslings and 6 adults. look at them all in a line!


And I think these might be the ducklings formerly of The Duckling Pile. They're bigger now, but see how long their tails look? I think that's because their primaries haven't grown in yet. Also, the center duck is lighter than the others, just as it was as a duckling.