A Hoot in the Night

Ever since we moved into our house nearly eight years ago, we've had owls living in the surrounding trees that call out with their gentle hoots nearly every night. At the beginning, we would only hear them and could never catch sight of them. We would listen to their calls when we were outside at night or when we had our bedroom window open during warm weather. We knew there were at least two owls that would often sit on opposite sides of the road and call back and forth to each other. 

It took a couple of years before we caught glimpses of them, but even then, it was at night as they were silently flying over our heads during hunting expeditions. So, with just the hoot to go on, we had a tough time identifying what species they were. Then, last spring, the pair of owls nested in a tree across the street from us. As the pair cared for their young, we began to see them more and more. They were hunting earlier and earlier in the evening. We also began to see three fledglings coming out of the nest to sit on a tree branch and wait for mom and dad to bring meals. They were so cute and fluffy. They sure made a ruckus with all their screeching and squawking, too. We looked forward to seeing them every evening.

Eventually, we got enough good looks at the adults to confirm through both their appearance and the sound of their hoots that they are Great Horned Owls. One evening in July, the pair was out actively hunting during twilight and I was able to capture a few photos. The first photo below is the best and closest shot of an owl I could get with the measly zoom on my camera. The second one shows both adults. The first is taking off from the tree and the second is still sitting in the tree, just to the right of the flying owl.

After the young owls fledged and left the nest, somewhere around September, the adults disappeared, too. For the first time in years, we weren't hearing hoots at night. Then, just before Thanksgiving, the adult owls came back. Or at least, I presume it was the same pair, but I really can't be sure. Last night the pair was having quite a conversation back and forth over the hill. When I went outside early this morning the conversation continued. Perhaps they were talking all night. Their soft hoots are such a pleasant sound; I am truly grateful that they have returned to our neighborhood.  I wonder where they went and what they were doing while they were gone. I also wonder what prompted them to return.

No matter the reason,  I am very glad they are back, and I hope they are able to breed again this coming spring so that we can experience the joy of seeing more little owls make their way into the world.

The Naturalist Datebook

I've been listening to the Martha Stewart channel on Sirius radio a lot lately. This week has been absolutely captivating because regular programming has been suspended in order to hold the annual Thanksgiving Hotline. Who knew hours and hours of expert chefs giving callers advice on Thanksgiving dishes could be so interesting?


One of my favorite things about Martha's channel is "The Naturalist Datebook". It's a very short segment recorded each day by Marion Roach Smith. It plays several times a day, and I look forward to it each time. The segment usually opens with the date, moon phase, and some snippet of almanac-like weather report, such as the places that might receive their first frost of the year that day. The rest of the datebook could be about any nature-related subject from astronomy to entomology to gardening. Today's report commemorated the anniversary of the opening of the Smithsonian Hall of Mammals. Ms. Roach Smith provided a small tribute to mammals by listing every known species of shrew. It was a long list. A bit odd, perhaps, but just fun and educational every day. 


I love the closing of the segment. At the end of each spot, Ms. Roach Smith says, "Look around. Write it down. And keep your eye on nature." Even if I can't manage to do it on a daily basis, that's exactly what I'd like to do with this blog.

The Autumn Sky

It's always hard for me to adjust to the time change and darkening sky. It seems every year, sometime around the end of August, I start counting the weeks until the time change, until the shortest day of the year, until the spring time change. The thought that we have about 5 weeks until the shortest day of the year and another five weeks or so until we are back at our current mediocre period of daylight is, well, a bit depressing to me. 

I have to say, though, that there are a few things I really appreciate about the changing light during autumn. I really love how the afternoon light on the cloudless days makes everything glow with a golden hue. Some days it just seems to set the turning leaves on fire. I didn't grow up with deciduous trees around, so I now really appreciate the fall show of colors every year. 

I also enjoy seeing more stars when I take the dogs for their short evening walk. During the summer, it is still light out, but now that it is dark in the evening, I never really know what I will see during our walk. Two nights ago, some light, lacy wisps of clouds were moving swiftly over the nearly full moon. It was really beautiful to watch, partly because it was so dynamic, changing every second. 

I glimpsed an even better sight last night. Just as the dogs and I were walking down the front steps, I looked up and saw two shooting stars, one right after the other. In a habit long-established from childhood, I instantly made a wish, a double-strong wish, one for each star. My wish was that I might see more shooting stars as we walked. I kept my eye on the sky and lingered a while, but alas, no more shooting stars appeared. That's OK, though. I'm still enjoying the image of those two, chasing each other. 

I enjoy the outdoors, but I most appreciate the moments that make me want to get outdoors more and more and more. A simple sight like two falling stars did just the trick. I have the urge to get out and view the night sky more often this winter on the clear nights. Why not? A cozy jacket and a warm cup of tea or cocoa are all I really need for some sky watching on our deck.

Blossom of Snow May You Bloom and Grow Forever

One of the songs that I sing to my daughter as a lullaby is "Edelweiss" by Rogers & Hammerstein, from The Sound of Music. I'm somewhat partial to waltzes, I love the melody, and I enjoy the simple lyrics, which take on significant meaning in the context of the story in the musical. I recently picked up The Sound of Music piano and vocal song book and have begun playing "Edelweiss" on the piano. So it's been running through my head constantly for the past few days.


Wikipedia tells me that Edelweiss (Leontopodium alpinum) grows primarily in rocky, mountainous regions between 2,000 and 2,900 meters. While it grows only within a narrow range of elevation, it has quite an extensive geographic range throughout Europe and Asia. It reportedly grows from France and Germany to Bulgaria to Iran to Mongolia. The flower has been used as a symbol for numerous governments and organizations, including on both sides of the battle lines during World War II. It was reportedly used as the symbol of the Wehrmacht mountain rangers and one of the Luftwaffe bomber units, but also as a symbol for an anti-Nazi youth group called the Edelweisspiraten (Edelweiss Pirates). Today it is still used as a symbol of numerous alpine troops and mountaineering clubs in various European countries.


I have a lovely brooch in the shape of an Edelweiss flower that was handed down from my grandmother to my father to me. It's small and delicate looking, yet the points of the flowers are quite strong and sharp. I love turning it over to see the 1,5 DM price written in pencil on the back. Since neither my dad nor I are certain of the age of the brooch, I can't say whether this was very expensive or whether it was merely a simple, everyday, decorative pin. I believe it may have been carved out of ivory, but I'm not sure how to confirm this. Whatever the case, the brooch is special to me because it belonged to my grandmother and because I have such a nice connection to the song. 

I don't have too many items on my life's bucket list, but seeing an Edelweiss blooming in the wild is on my list for certain.

Are ginkgo trees the new black?

While on a walk around the neighborhood this morning, we walked down an arterial road not too far from our house. This street is fairly wide, with broad sidewalks that are separated from the road by landscaped strips. Most of the trees on the street appear to be fairly well established, yet not that old. I would guess perhaps 10 years  or so. I've noticed over the past couple of  years that several of the trees have disappeared and been replaced with new trees of different species. Just today, we saw one tree's trunk was broken completely through. The tree was lying along the edge of the sidewalk, with its support stakes still attached. It's sad to see such a large plant dead after so much time and water went into getting it to that size. Hopefully it will be replaced soon. 


I'm not sure what species the older trees along the road are, but the newer trees that are being planted as replacements are ginkgo trees. I really like ginkgo trees. The shape of their leaves is very attractive and I like how they flutter and dance in a breeze. Here's a photo of AJ during our walk, holding a ginkgo leaf.

The appearance of the new gingko trees caused me to wonder why the city chose to replace the previous species of trees with ginkgo trees. Are they hardier and expected to live longer in this area? Were they simply cheaper for the city? Or are they just more fashionable at the moment?


I find it interesting that cities seem to continually change their approaches to median and park landscaping. I would imagine that some of the changes over time have to do with increased knowledge about which plants are most appropriate for which environments. I think xeriscaping to reduce water use and native plant landscaping have influenced public space landscaping, probably for the good. And there has certainly been increased education on the immense damage that many trees can cause to underground or overhead utilities, leading to improved choices and placement of trees. However, I have to believe that a lot of landscaping choices on both public and private property follow fads, just as architecture, interior design, or fashion do.  Take, for example, the plethora of Mexican Sage and New Zealand Flax that have popped up in the Bay Area over the past 10 years, including in my own yard! You really can't seem to get away from them.


In my childhood neighborhood on the Central Coast in the 80s, ice plant, alyssum, agapanthus, oleander, and geraniums were the ubiquitous plants of both home gardens and public areas. They certainly haven't disappeared from view, but they now seem, well, a bit dated. I do still love the smell of alyssum, probably because it reminds me of playing outside as a child. I have some seed that I plan to plant in our yard this spring. My daughter's early childhood will be filled with rosemary, lavender, Mexican Sage, and flax in all the yards. I wonder what the next generation of landscaping fads will bring.

Wildlife in Our Own Backyard

So, I've been thinking of starting this blog for a while. Part of the reason is because I think it would be neat to record all of the wildlife that we are fortunate enough to encounter in our lives. Our daughter, AJ, will also probably enjoy helping me record animals we see in our backyard when she gets a little older.

To start out, I'm going to list some of the more memorable wildlife sightings we've had right in our neighborhood, usually within yards of our front door. I'm also adding a master list to the bottom of the blog page thatI can update as we spy new animals in and around our back yard.

Wildlife sightings in our immediate neighborhood:

Deer - many and often!

Racoons

Turkeys

Hawks (I'm still working on learning how to identify various local species)

Coyotes - very occasionally

Foxes - Several sightings, including a family of an adult and 3 juveniles came through our yard

Skunks - Many, including a family of 1 adult and 3 juveniles that were playing in our back yard, just few days after we saw the family of foxes

Great Horned Owls - we had a nesting pair with several chicks spring.summer of 2011

Great Blue Herons - a pair was hunting gophers on our hill for a few weeks summer of 2011

Because we had owls nesting in direct view of our living room window this summer, owl was one of AJ's first few words. She now enjoys pointing out pictures of owls whenever we come across them. Her interest drove our choice for carving her first pumpkin on Halloween. Here are a photo of AJ, dressed as Raggedy Ann, with her owl pumpkin and a photo of the lit pumpkin.

Welcome to O Family Outdoors!

Welcome to my blog about our family's appreciation for everything related to nature and the outdoors. We live in a small community just east of San Francisco Bay, between the Oakland hills and the foot of Mt. Diablo. We live in a wonderful area of California, with great access to open space and trails. We don't always get outdoors as much as we'd like, but we try to find small opportunities to appreciate nature whenever we can, even if it's just by spending time on our front deck, watching for neighborhood wildlife. 

My husband and I have a wonderful and lively daughter (AJ, currently 18 months) and two big, enthusiastic dogs (Madison and Reuss). We all love to get outside and observe the world around us. We enjoy learning about everything from rivers to wildflowers and from weather to rocks. I hope you enjoy photos and tales from our everyday encounters with the natural world, and I look forward to your comments.

H.O.

November 2011