A Scarred and Beaten Ecosystem Persists: The Native Species of the Great Valley

I live in an extraordinary place! In my last post on the Great Valley I was discussing our use and abuse of our most precious resource, one of the richest soils on the planet. Some 95% of the original ecosystem has been manipulated by humans to achieve the highest biomass production possible. Our burgeoning population has to eat after all, and the amount of arable lands is declining worldwide, not expanding. I also posted a number of photographs that intimated what the Great Valley might have looked like prior to 200 or so years ago when European colonists began twisting the landscape to their desires. The valley must have been a fascinating sight in all seasons!

Cedar Waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum). For more pictures of these beautiful birds, check out my post at Geotripper's California Birds.

Since arriving home after nearly two weeks of extensive travels, I finally had a chance to get out and check my walking routes, around the pasture near my home, and out by the "mini-wilderness" on the west campus of Modesto Junior College. We also stole a moment from our errands today and watched the sun set at the Beckwith unit of the San Joaquin National Wildlife Refuge, which has a viewing platform just eight miles west of town. There had been a lot of changes in the two weeks as a number of migrant species had arrived, including especially the Cedar Waxwings (above).

Nuttall's Woodpecker (Picoides nuttallii), a California endemic species.

Walking through my normal haunts, I was struck once more with a realization about the scarred and embattled ecosystem I live in. There are survivors of the apocalypse still living among us. Like a war zone, there are vast areas of destruction, and little enclaves where the native species still hang on. Sometimes it is in stretches of woodland along rivers where the ground was too uneven to plow. In other instances, the alien invaders happened to plant ornamental trees that produce just enough berries or fruits that the natives can thrive. In a few precious localities, the alien invaders set aside larger environments from abandoned farmlands (partly so they could hunt the natives species, but that's the Faustian bargain that had to be made). In any case, the walks and observations this week for some reason included no Pigeons, Starlings, or House Sparrows, all of whom are opportunistic alien species. The birds I saw were the native species that had found a way to survive in this new alien world. There was a Nuttall's Woodpecker, a California endemic (when one includes a portion of Baja California, anyway). It was hunting for insects on fenceposts instead of trees.

Yellow-billed Magpie (Pica nuttalli):  More on this California endemic can be seen in this post.

There was a small flock of Yellow-billed Magpies in the pasture. These striking birds are a wholly Californian endemic species, found only in our Great Valley. They were almost wiped out by the West Nile virus, but they are slowly making a comeback.

Western Bluebird (Sialia mexicana)

I see the Western Bluebirds on occasion throughout the winter and spring. I think they migrate up into the Sierra Nevada during the summer. 

Western Scrub Jay (Aphelocoma californica)

The Western Scrub Jay is a perennial visitor to the feeders in my backyard. They've done well in relation to agricultural development, especially with nut trees, as can be seen above. They'll often make noise on our roof as they peck at pecans (and a number have taken root in our yard after pecans being left behind by the jays)

Oak Titmouse (Baeolophus inornatus) on a west campus oak tree.

Another more-or-less California endemic is the Oak Titmouse (Baeolophus inornatus). It ranges a little into Baja California and Oregon. The acre or so of oak trees in the "mini-wilderness" provides them a bit of valley habitat in our area.

Sooty Fox Sparrow (Passerella iliaca unalaschcensis)

Finally, there is a Sooty Fox Sparrow (Passerella iliaca unalaschcensis) that I discovered Tuesday on the west campus of my school. I'm new at this birding business and so was not used to searching the leaf litter for what I always thought were House Sparrows. The Sooty is one of four subspecies of Fox Sparrows. The number and variety of American sparrows is incredible, and is a startling picture of ongoing evolution in action.

It's inspiring to find that some hint or echo of the Great Valley's natural heritage still survives here and there, especially when it is a short walking distance from home or work. More than anywhere else, though, the glory of the ancient days still lives on in the federal bird refuges that line our valley like a string of pearls. Last night we saw a sky filled with migratory birds, thousands of them, who still have a winter home on part of the valley floor (see the video at the top of the post). These are places that should be protected and cherished, and not criticized because they take up some of the water in these hard drought years. Although I understand farmer resentment in such situations, the total water devoted to wildlife survival is no doubt a small percentage of the total utilized, and I'd rather see a healthy population of native birds over an additional field of cabbage or corn.

Birds of My Neighborhood: Geotripper Explores the Home Base on National Bird Day

Cedar Waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum)

I'm told that today is National Bird Day (thanks, Randall), which was convenient to today's post since I was already collecting pictures of birds from my last two days of neighborhood exploration. It was meant to be an addition to my post several days ago describing the surprising diversity of birds in my home town, despite the winter chill. The Great Valley of California turns out to be quite the refuge for winter survival of a great many avian species. We are far enough south to avoid the frigid chill of arctic storms, and most of our storms are gentle compared to the blizzards experienced in other parts of the country (with the occasional exception, of course).

Cedar Waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum)

But really, birds in a geology blog? What connection could there possibly be with the study of rocks, minerals, and fossils? Oh, yeah, fossils. Birds have been an important part of the web of life on this planet for more than 100 million years, and were the last of the major families of terrestrial creatures to emerge. They are literally the last dinosaurs, but as such they are particularly successful and diverse dinosaurs, and most certainly not a failing evolutionary dead end. And they apparently almost displaced mammals as the apex predators in the terrestrial environment several tens of millions of years ago.

American Robin (Turdus migratorius)

After the "regular" dinosaurs met their demise at the end of the Cretaceous Period (possibly as a result of an asteroid impact), the subset of feathered avian dinosaurs were some of the survivors that expanded and evolved to fill a world with many empty environmental niches. Mammals were quickly evolving to fill those same niches, and for a while there were some gigantic land birds that were the top predators of their time. Eventually their places were taken by large mammals and crocodile-type reptiles, but the birds mostly took to the air and became one of the most diverse vertebrate animal groups in the world today.

Yes, you "mock" me now, but imagine me being 10 feet tall. That would change your tone in a hurry...

Today, birds are an integral part of any terrestrial ecosystem, and their relative health is a barometer for all life on our planet. There is a great joy in observing the incredible diversity of these fascinating creatures, but the diversity and future survival of these animals is threatened from habitat destruction and hunting. That's probably more true in the Great Valley of California than for about any other place on the planet.

Western Bluebird (Sialia mexicana)

The Central Valley (the term is interchangeable with Great Valley) is one of the world's great savanna-grassland-riparian habitats and was once a paradise for numerous bird species and other animals. The vast wetlands were historically a critical stop on the migratory flyway for hundreds of species. Unfortunately for the birds, the rich soils and ample water supply from Sierra Nevada rivers have meant that most of the valley has been co-opted by humans for agricultural development. Only 5% of the original habitat still exists. This has meant huge changes in the ecosystem, with many species that have disappeared, and others that have prospered. 

Oak Titmouse (Baeolophus inornatus)

Humans added all kinds of mayhem by introducing new bird species for spurious and stupid reasons. One of the worst: a man in the 1890s who resolved to introduce to the New World all the birds mentioned in the works of Shakespeare. He arranged for the release of several hundred European Starlings in Central Park. They have since spread across the continent like a plague, displacing dozens if not hundreds of species of native songbirds. Other birds arrived as pets which subsequently escaped (flocks of parrots live in the LA Basin, for instance).

Black Phoebe (Sayornis nigricans). Identification thanks to Callan Bentley (Mountain Beltway) and his friend Seth.

Despite the horrific pressure brought to bear on the native species of California, there are many bird varieties still to be seen in the Great Valley. I have become aware of this delightful fact over the last few weeks as I explored my own local neighborhood with a new camera with a nice optical zoom. We've always had a feeder in the backyard, which caused me to think that the only local birds were goldfinches, house finches, scrub jays, and mockingbirds. A new habit of walking around the nearby cow pasture has revealed a real menagerie of beautiful and interesting species.

Scrub Jay (Aphelocoma californica)

So today's post (and my post from several days ago) is a celebration of National Bird Day, with fifteen species that I was able to photograph in just two days of strolling around my neighborhood. Some I've seen before, and many I have never noticed. I never would have guessed that two, and maybe three species of woodpecker live on my block!

Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos)

Some of the birds are skittish and shy, and others look at you and don't give a rat's posterior that you are standing there photographing them. And then there are the crows and ravens. You look at them and you can see them thinking and hear them talking about you...they are said to be the smartest of all birds, and I pretty much accept that way of thinking.

Nuttall's Woodpecker (Picoides nuttallii)

And never forget: these little fellows are dinosaurs. Only they're smarter...