Coastside: Pillar Point, Princeton

Pillar Point, just north of Half Moon Bay, is not the best spot for drive-by birding. There's no parking on the narrow road in, when you might spy an egret or great blue heron in the marsh. Once you reach the parking lot, walking is involved, albeit on a smooth, level trail with plenty of benches. But it's an easy, engaging stroll of less than a mile from the parking lot, past the marsh, along the scenic harbor and cliffs, to the open beach.

At any point there are spectacular vistas to contemplate from the benches. Although development keeps creeping along, the coastside retains its secluded fishing-village charm. On Saturday afternoon, the winds were unusually still. There was time to search for birds in the marsh -- we could hear but not spot them. Several large grebes were cavorting in the harbor, diving like aquacade swimmers. Once we reached the beach, there were pelicans galore.

Brown pelicans have a special place in our heart. We had given them up for lost years ago, when their eggs were collapsing due to DDT in the food chain. Now, every time I see them, I feel like Moses and the rainbow. They are a gift of hope, that we can choose to change our behavior, andsave other creatures from extinction.

Dozens of brown pelicans were flying overhead, rarely diving to feed. They would fly up to the top of the cliff--"Party at the giant golf ball" exclaimed James, alluding to the strange research dome on the research facility. Then they'd catch a thermal and glide out over the open sea.

The low tide revealed rock outcroppings offshore, with cormorants and pelicans perched on the crest, and two dozen somnolent sea lions basking on a ledge. Nothing spectacular. Just a quiet, restorative afternoon in a beautiful place.

Afterwards we cruised the fishing pier, and found another clutch of pelicans happily bobbing in the shallows near the kayak rental stand, as placid and unafraid as a bevy of mallards.

Salt Marshes Reclaimed: The Don Edwards SF Bay National Wildlife Refuge

The Don Edwards National Reserve encompasses 30,000 acres in three different sections of the southern end of San Francisco Bay. We went to the main nature center, at the Fremont end of the Dumbarton Bridge.

Driving up, we were greeted by the sight of six egrets poised in a pond -- a good omen for drive-by birders. We found the afternoon wind very strong, and opted to drive several miles alongside the bridge approaches, to a fishing pier on the piers of the old bridge.

If you've driven across the Dumbarton Bridge, you've probably noticed the salt evaporator ponds in their various stages, turning red with brine shrimp, or drying out with great chunks of salt blowing like in the wind. Now the ponds are being slowly reclaimed, left to leach out in the rains. And the birds are happy. We saw the usual gulls, a chorus line of red-legged stilts, all facing the same direction and turning with Rockette precision, then a flurry of tiny black and white birds scudding around the surface of the ponds.

The tiny birds sailed around like kids in bumper cars, dipping down for food from time to time. "Phalaropes!" I cried. They were described as swimming in circles, to stir up the brine shrimp, and the nature center said they were coming into season. We did not know how tiny they were, much smaller than the gulls.

So at last we saw pharalopes swimming in circles. James invented a new word game, "Shorebird or Musical Instrument." (Phalarope? Calliope? Whimbrel?) And I got some fine shots of the artistically weathered structures around the salt ponds.

While we were in Fremont, James wanted to check out what he calls the "Fake Lake", in a subdivision near Ardenwood. I had low expectations of seeing anything beyond the hordes of Canada geese that never leave Fremont for Montreal. But something large and white caught his eye. He stopped the car, and darned if there weren't two white pelicans joining the omnipresent geese.

Marin: Las Gallinas Valley Sanitary District Ponds

Sunset magazine keeps following us. That's been our little joke for several years, since an issue featured several places we'd been, including a shot of the very table San Francisco restaurant where we'd eaten the week before. It's nice to have your perceptions validated.

I've also enjoyed a book by John Muir Laws on Sierra Birds. It's just the size to tuck into your backpack or guide bag, and organized by color of bird, perfect for us novices. So when the newest Sunset featured a column by the estimable Mr. Laws, and his top recommendation for local birdwatching was Las Gallinas Valley Sanitary District facility in Marin, I was doubly pleased.

We first heard of LGVSD from James' parents, the veteran birdwatchers. It's a place where a short walk bringing great dividends. The ponds and wetlands occupy over 300 acres, but hiking trails along the levees are compact, with benches spread conveniently along the way. Great swaths of marshland border a placid San Francisco Bay. It's a stopping point for shorebirds, egrets, and trees full surly night herons, who appear in the late afternoon to need their first cup of joe.

The ponds are a side benefit of the Marin water treatment plant. The treated water becomes a life source for whatever the birds feed on. A potential ecological minus becomes a plus, as a place for birds is created amid all the encroachments of "civilization."

James is greatly amused by the sludge tanks, where large arms move slowly about the circular tank. The birds--mostly gulls--use the revolving arm as a sort of merry-go-round. They perch on the arm, ride around, and slowly flutter up and back down as it approaches an overhanging beam. They seem to think it's a special ride just for their enjoyment.

Las Gallinas led to our exploration of sewage treatment ponds as sites for drive-by birding. Not all facilities are so easily accessible, or turned into such a beautiful haven for wildlife. Unfortunately, many others cover their sludge vats, depriving the gulls and their watchers of harmless entertainment.

The Away Game: Reno-Tahoe

We've been birding on vacation, on a Reno-Tahoe expedition where we traced the great blue waters from Pyramid Lake, 35 miles north of Sparks, back up the Truckee River, to beautiful Lake Tahoe.

We found lots of help online from the Lahontan Audubon Society based in Reno. They also publish this information in book form, which is more convenient than riffling through printouts. Two caveats: many of the roads involved were dirt--not good for our low-slung Prius, and the birds were running about two weeks earlier than advertised in the book published 10 years ago. By the end of July, most of the white pelicans had cleared out of Pyramid Lake, as far as we could tell. Apparently our paths crossed as they were heading to the Bay Area.

There may have been more birds around the corner, we simply didn't see them. We can vouch for a one exemplary drive-by birding site in downtown Reno: Virginia Lake, a few blocks west of the Peppermill Casino. It's a large urban lake, with a paved path and trees planted around its one mile perimeter. At that size, it contains a large island filled with nesting egrets and cormorants and gulls. There were also many ducks and those Canada geese that show no sign of migrating north. The black cormorants and the white egrets alternated along the edge of the island like so many cake decorations.

We also spotted a mystery bird that looked like nothing in our Sibley. It was determined to stay in the middle of the lake but I was able to zoom in on it, and include a nearby goose for size. It reminded me of a swan that had falled afoul (afowl?) of a wet Mondrian canvas -- white with color blockings. Something Chinese fleeing the Olympic flurry?

We also visited Swan Lake near Reno, and Spooner Lake near Tahoe and Highway 50. They are excellent sites but require moderate walks to get within viewing distance of all but the most random birds.

The Peaceable Kingdom: Redwood Shores

Shorebirds love sewer ponds.
This is our most amusing bit of birding wisdom to date. Our interest in sewer ponds began with a visit earlier this spring to Los Gallinos in Marin, a noted spot for birding. Looking at maps of the Bay Trail, we found several promising spots closer to us. The closest treatment plant was at the tip of Redwood Shores.

I think of Redwood Shores as the "Peaceable Kingdom" after the noted painting. Great swarms of dowitchers, whimbrels, willets, and other shorebirds circle in and out. Ducks and geese feed and paddle about with their young. Stilts and avocets poke about. Lately we've seen terns and their adolescent ternlets, perfect miniatures. Dozens of egrets scattered like marshmallows on the far banks, among the sleepy, sullen night herons who look like they could use a cuppa joe.

For the best birding in Redwood Shores, head out to the end of Redwood Shores Parkway, and turn right on Radio Road. (There's a former radio station at the far end.) No benches. No bathrooms (perhaps at the nearby dog park, must check on next visit). But you can enjoy the spectacle without leaving your car.

If you wish to stretch your legs, it's a short walk uphill to the Bay Trail, closed at the point to protect clapper rail and salt marsh habitat. There's still an expansive view of the bay and various bird life along the estuary, such as cormorants perched on the electric transmission towers.

Redwood Shores is not our secret spot. On a recent afternoon, I found several Sequoia Audubon members armed with serious scopes, taking in the flurry of avian activity. The shorebirds are coming back from wherever they've been. Like 1950s socialites, many of our birds head up to the Sierra, Canada, even Alaska for the nesting season.

The Place With No Name: Foster City Shell Beach

Our favorite birding spot has no official name. It's on the Foster City Bay Area Trail, just below the Highway 92 San Mateo Bridge. "Shell Beach" is a good guess, as it's composed of mounds of crushed oyster shells that seem to wash up endlessly from the bay floor. To get there, look for the two posts rising above the substantial levee. Find a legal parking place -- be careful when school is in session. Walk up the incline, and you'll find benches and picnic tables placed at convenient distances. And, throughout the winter months, amazing flights of birds.

There's plenty of room to walk, ride, skate, or walk your dog, if you prefer. The birds are cool with it all. It's fun to watch them change plumage over the seasons. In winter they are pretty uniformly gray -- then they break out into colors, like the plovers here, who showed up all decked out in April.

By June, the mud flats are largely deserted. I'm happy to find one lone cattle egret reflected in the outgoing tide. Where have the birds gone? Like summering socialites, they've gone to Tahoe, Mono Lake, Canada, even Alaska. They'll be back in the fall, en route to Mexico for the winter.

Dine-By Birding

Thursday night was unusually balmy, so we headed to Foster City where several restaurants front on one of the lagoons. We dined outdoors at Portofino Grill and refrained from feeding some begging ducks. Something else -- a cross between a seagull and a swallow -- occasionally flitted in the air.

Afterward we walked down to the cul-de-sac behind Chevy's, where we could see a bevy of ducks around the landing. In the air, we spotted the something else we'd glimpsed earlier. Graceful, white, forked tail, black skullcap -- it hovered like an oversized hummingbird, wings beating, until it spotted something in the murky water. Then it dove sharply, emerging with a tiny fish a moment later.

After consulting the bird guides, we think it was a Forster's tern, which is fitting for Foster (no r) City. One breathtaking bird to watch. I keep thinking of Gerard Manley Hopkins "Windhover" :
My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird -- the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!