Why I Always Have a Camera: Our Campus Gray Fox

There is a reason I have a camera every time I go walking. I might not see something interesting every time I head outside, but when something interesting appears, I want to have a camera handy. Today I almost broke my own rule. I'm usually looking for bird species, and the day was dismal and gray, poor conditions for getting any kind of decent pictures. But on a whim I changed my usual route, and went north to check out the second sheep compound.

I first saw it hidden partly behind a fence, and all I could see were some ears and a gray-colored body that reminded me of a Great Horned Owl. But when it didn't retreat, I could see that it was a Gray Fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus). I was thrilled! The Gray Fox is native to our region, and the more commonly seen Red Foxes are not. These may be the best pictures I've ever captured of the fox.

The Gray Fox is found all over North America, and has been part of the ecosystem for at least the last 3-4 million years. There are a large number of regional subspecies, and a closely related species, the Island Fox, found on the Channel Islands off the coast of the state. The development of agriculture in the Great Valley of Central California destroyed 95% of the original habitat for the foxes and the many other native species. Gray Foxes are adaptable, though, and have often done well in the vicinity of human habitations. There is a richness of rodents in the vicinity of our agricultural developments on campus that provide the foxes with a secure food supply. I've seen them on numerous occasions, but they rare stick around long enough for pictures. Today was a lucky day...

Earth as Inspiration: It's Coyote and Roadrunner! (Except that it's not a Coyote, and the bird wasn't a Roadrunner)

It's Earth Science Week, and the theme this year is Earth as Inspiration. It may seem strange that I would open this blog with a picture of cute furry creature when we should be discussing the Earth, but bear with me. I find the inspiration wherever I can!

I live in the midst of California's Great Valley, but to many people it isn't all that "great". Modesto regularly ends up as 48th or 49th on the lists of the "best places to live" in the U.S. We are in a perpetual depression, with unemployment levels that are around twice the national average, and the median household income lags badly behind the national average. Pretty dismal, many things considered, but not all. There are some real treasures to be found among the dusty fields. And those treasures are related to the earth sciences.

The Great Valley originated as a forearc basin between the vast subduction zone that once existed offshore of California during the age of the dinosaurs (the Mesozoic Era), and the chain of volcanoes that erupted miles above the magma chambers that would one day cool to become the granitic rocks of the Sierra Nevada. For most of its history the valley was a shallow sea, home to huge swimming reptiles during the age of dinosaurs, and gigantic sharks and a variety of whales, dolphins and seals during the Cenozoic Era that followed. It was only a few million years ago that the valley floor rose above sea level to become the grassy savanna that it was prior to the arrival of European settlers and farmers. The valley was populated by a bewildering array of strange mammals like mammoths, mastodons, giant ground sloths, gigantic Short-faced Bears, Saber-tooth Cats, Dire Wolves, horses, and camels. Many of these animals went extinct around 12,000 years ago, but even 300 years ago there were herds of Tule Elk, deer, Pronghorn, Grizzly Bears, Wolves, and Mountain Lions. And there were birds. Millions and millions of migratory birds who made the valley wetlands their winter home.

Eventually 95% of the valley was co-opted by agricultural development, and most of the natural primeval landscape was lost. But fragments remain here and there. There are still prairies around the margins of the valley that were simply grazed and not plowed. There were river floodplains that flooded too often to be developed as farmlands. And some animals adapted to the new state of affairs and have thrived in human landscapes.

That is where my inspiration came from this evening. I was out taking my normal walk for exercise and bird-searching when I came across a wild chicken. Well, not really a wild chicken, but apparently an escapee from the campus chicken coop (we have a big agriculture unit at our school). And it looked nervous. A moment later I saw why: it was being stalked by a Gray Fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus). I've seen Red Foxes on the campus before; they're an introduced species. But this was the first time I got a clear view of the native Gray Fox (I saw one in the dark a few weeks ago).

The fox was very intent on its quarry and didn't notice me at first. I was able to get a few shots of it before it retreated into the bushes behind the farm machinery. The chicken also headed into the bushes, relieved that the chase was at least temporarily put on hold. But the whole episode reminded me of a great thing happening on our campus.

We are building a small version of our valley's native ecosystem on the vacant space north of our Great Valley Museum. It will be called the Great Valley Outdoor Nature Lab, and it will include several acres of native vegetation, a vernal pool, and some of the rocks characteristic of the margins of our valley. It might not be large enough to serve as a home base for the fox, but it will attract the native birds, and maybe some of the native amphibians and reptiles. The work is well underway, and by January we should have a mostly operational outdoor lab. Local school children, many of whom almost never have a chance to leave the city limits, will have an opportunity to see the natural history museum exhibits, and then step outside to see the native trees and vegetation, and perhaps even some native birds, ground squirrels or lizards, and if they are really lucky, a Gray Fox.

Homing in on the Grand Places, or the Grandness of the Home Places? The Tuolumne River

It was just one of those moments...

I was taking my near daily walk along the river trail that lies a mile from my house. It winds for two miles along the Tuolumne River where it emerges from the Sierra Nevada foothills and flows into the Great Valley. I'll grant that for a river like the Tuolumne, it's not the grandest bit of scenery. This is a river that begins in the spectacular high country of Yosemite National Park, flows through a little known canyon that is as deep as Arizona's Grand Canyon (actually called the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne), and then through a network of gorges famous for white-water rafting. Downstream, the river feeds into a floodplain that is part of America's greatest savanna environments, the winter home of hundreds of thousands of migratory birds like Sandhill Cranes, Snow Geese, Cackling Geese, and many, many others.

My stretch of river? It's historically been kind of a dumping ground. It was first turned upside down in the search for gold in the 1800s an early 1900s. Much of the riparian habitat was torn out while miners processed millions of cubic yards of sediment. An old dredge still sits abandoned a few miles upstream. In the aftermath, quarry operations removed gravel, altering the streambed and leaving a series of ponds. Invasive plants like hyacinth invaded the river, and noxious invasive weeds invaded the hillsides above. Reservoirs were constructed upstream, siphoning off water and sending it to hundreds of thousands of acres of irrigated farmland downstream. In some ways, the river is a shadow of its former self.

And yet...

The trail follows a bench above the main riverbed, and there are a number of spots where one can clamber down and sit by the river. I have my favorite spot about a mile up the trail, and I was sitting there enjoying the sunset and watching a Kingfisher diving into the water for a meal. It occurred to me, sitting there for maybe the 100th time or so (the trail was opened about two years ago), that this was home. I mean, sure, home is usually a place with walls and a roof and all that, but our homes are also a place beyond the backyard. We may have co-opted almost all the natural places, but there are bits and pieces still present, a place where we can comprehend the nature of the land that we live on. The Tuolumne Parkway Trail is that place for me, a spot that I can explore again and again, always with the possibility of seeing something surprising, something new and unexpected.

The other day it was the surprise of discovering that beavers have been living and working not thirty yards from where I sit and watch the river. How in the world could I miss that for two years? It's possible that they recently arrived, given that the entire floodplain was actually flooded for more than six months last year during the record precipitation year. They may be just now reestablishing themselves in the newly changed environment. A bit of research later on resulted in the discovery that this very stretch of river was one of the last stands of the native California Golden Beaver. Some were captured here to establish populations elsewhere in the state (this was in the 1940s).

My explorations of the river coincided with the discovery that our county has one of the most diverse bird populations anywhere. More than three hundred species have been recorded here. Many, of course, were rare sightings of vagrants from elsewhere, but birders in the area regularly record more than two hundred species in a year's time. So...I always have my camera with me when I wander the trail. I'm new at this sort of thing, but still I have seen more than eighty species on the river and the adjacent bluffs and pastures.

Pied-billed Grebes on the Tuolumne River

I'm still seeing new ones. Since January 1st, I've seen Pied-billed Grebes (above), a Merlin (below), and a flock of Common Goldeneyes (below the Merlin) for the first time on this stretch of river. I only saw the Merlin once, but the Grebes and the Goldeneyes turn out to have favorite spots to hang out on the river. Now that I know where to look, I can almost always see them, and note whether the flocks have grown larger or not.

Merlin on the Tuolumne River

It's that way with the more common birds too. Many of the birds spend their time near the same trees or shrubs. The Scrub Jays and Yellow-billed Magpies prefer particular trees on the bluffs or near the river. When the swallows arrive in spring, they have their preferred cliffs (and bridges) for their nests. There are several oak trees where I can expect to find colorful songbirds like Hooded Orioles, Bullock's Orioles, Western Tanagers, and Audubon's Warblers in the right season. The Phainopeplas have their favorite trees, as do the egrets, cranes and herons.

Common Goldeneyes on the river

There have been two American Kestrels that have about four perches that they will abandon, one after another, as I walk forward on the trail (I can't walk the trail without irritating them; I keep hoping they'll finally just recognize me and stop fleeing). It's that way with dozens of individual birds that I see over and over.

American Kestrel above the river, giving me that irritated look...

They're rarer, but I have seen more and more of the larger mammals as well. Early on I photographed a Gray Fox where the stairway sits today, and the picture was eventually added to the interpretive signs for the trail. I've seen River Otters three or four times, and Raccoons (one was sleeping in a tree next to the trail just this week).

As I sat there this evening I thought of how lucky I've been in my life, the privileges I've been granted in exploring some of the most spectacular places on planet Earth. I treasure my handful of overseas adventures in Australia, Italy, Scotland, England, France and Switzerland, my journeys to the Hawaiian Islands, and especially the adventures I've had with my students across the western states of the U.S. (and Canada, too). I was lucky to see so many spectacular sights, but I also know that I will see many of those places only once, and for only a brief time (the schedules must be adhered to).

On the other hand, I have been granted a continuing privilege of getting to know a single place well, learning the rhythms and seasonal changes, being there long enough to take advantage of capturing a fox or otters on video (like the one below). It may not be the most spectacular of scenic places, but it is a small piece of the natural world that still exists just beyond my front door. It's the kind of precious gift that just about anyone can experience. Practically everyone lives relatively close to a river or stream, lake or forest, even in places where such things are not expected. There are some great places to see the natural world in the Los Angeles Basin, for instance. They're worth seeking out. It is a great adventure to learn something new, and to have the potential for making discoveries every time one ventures out beyond their doorstep. It's a cheap thrill, so to speak, since one really doesn't need money to visit many of these places.


I encourage you to seek out those small wild places close to home. They have their very own kind of grandeur, even if the tour guides and brochures would never send you to there. It's the grandness of the home places. What is your place?

The New Tuolumne River Trail is Coming!

In one sense, this is a local story, about a trail that I can walk to from my house. On the other, it is of interest to anyone who travels into the region, on their way to Yosemite and other more famous tourist destinations in the central Sierra Nevada. It's about the Tuolumne River.

The Tuolumne River is a treasure. It is longer than the Merced River, it once had the largest glaciers in the entire range, and comparatively speaking, despite the many reservoirs on its various forks, it has some of the wildest stretches of river in the Sierra. It has the grandest canyon that hardly anyone knows about (seriously, the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne is as deep as the Grand Canyon in Arizona) as well as the most scenic and popular area of Yosemite National Park outside of the valley (Tuolumne Meadows and Tioga Pass).  Downstream, it has some of the most important riparian habitats in the Great Valley.

I live right at the spot where the river flows from the Sierra Nevada foothills into the Great Valley. The two-mile long stretch of river that flows through my small town has languished for years, with a small neglected river park, and trails of use that led to piles of garbage and transient camps. The city government has been interested in changing that situation and now it's happening. With funds from a state proposition (84), they are constructing a river trail from one end of town to the other, a path that will include accessible trails, rejuvenated and protected riparian habitat, interpretative signs, and recreational opportunities like river access for kayaks and small boats.

One could say that this is development that will spoil the natural aspect of the river, but in fact the river hasn't been natural for some time, given the invasive species and animals that have moved in along with the trash. As the park is completed, the invasive species will be removed and replaced by native species. Ultimately the river will be a healthier environment, and a lot closer to a natural condition than before. And people will be able to learn about the natural habitat during their explorations and recreational activities. It's a good trade-off.

I went down there yesterday to have a look around, and the trails were all plowed and staked out. Employees told me they expect to finish around the beginning of October. I couldn't be happier.

I've been documenting the bird species along the river for the past year at my other blog, Geotripper's California Birds. Yesterday I got to add a mammal to the list. As I was wandering about on the downstream end of the trail, a Gray Fox came bounding down the cliff with lunch in its mouth. I only had a few seconds to get a couple of shots before it disappeared into the river willows.

There are dozens of species of birds living or migrating through, depending on the time of year. Yesterday I caught some shots of a Black-chinned Hummingbird for only the second time.

I almost always come across a group (a "discernment") of Acorn Woodpeckers. There are some gigantic ancient Valley Oak trees along this stretch of the river.

The Western Kingbird (below) is present during spring and summer, but migrates south to Mexico and Costa Rica during the winter.

The Western Bluebird is present for much of the year.

The Tree Swallow migrates into the area for the spring and summer as well. It winters farther south, in the southern tier states, and in Central America as far as Panama.

The western end of the park is on an undeveloped bluff that offers a marvelous view of the river with the Sierra Nevada beyond. A stairwell will provide access to a parking area on the bluff. Geologically, the upper part of the trail includes some of the Sierra Nevada's Miocene volcanic rocks, including the Valley Springs formation and the Mehrten. Downstream, the bluffs are composed of glacial outwash deposits, probably including the Turlock Lake and Riverbank formations.

I'm looking forward to this wonderful addition to our community, and I hope you'll stop and check it out when you are on your way to more famous places. The river has a lot to teach you.

If you want to learn more details, the city has posted their plans and environment studies here: http://www.cityofwaterford.org/departments/parks-and-recreation/trails/river-trail/