Red Fox Family on the Tuolumne River

Be warned: cuteness alert. I was out on the Tuolumne Parkway Trail this afternoon, checking things out after more than two inches of rain in two days. It was sunny and lots of birds were out and about, but just before I got to the end of the trail, I saw something I've never seen before: a fox family.

I've seen foxes a number of times over the last three years. One fox that I photographed early on was actually used on the interpretive signs for the trail. I could never figure out from year to year if I was looking at a family or not because I never saw more than one at a time.

I haven't seen the foxes for many months now, and I was worried that they might have moved on (silly me). Finally in the last few weeks I've noticed an acrid odor that I suspect was related to the foxes, so I've been watching the grass and shrubs much more carefully. Today, though, I came face to face with the one in the first picture above. I couldn't distinguish the size very well, but I noticed the shorter face and realized it was a pup. A moment later a second head popped up! I didn't get a good shot of both of them at once before they disappeared into their den. It occurred to me that momma must be around somewhere, and then I realized she was in plain sight up on the log above. As you can see in the photos, she was very nervous about me (she could barely stay awake, actually). I've seen momma in previous years; she was wounded in one eye, giving her a distinctive appearance

Red Foxes are one of the most widespread carnivores on the planet, being found across the northern hemisphere. The populations in California are a mixture of native and non-native individuals. The rarest is the Sierra Nevada Red Fox, which is only found in the northern Sierra and southern Cascades at high elevations. It was recently sighted in the vicinity of Sonora Pass, north of Yosemite. The populations in the Central Valley were thought to be escapees from fur farms, but recent work has determined that the valley north of Sacramento has an endemic population. There seems to be little if any information about native Red Foxes in the south valley. There is a native species, the Gray Fox, which I have seen once or twice along the river. There is also the rare and endangered San Joaquin Kit Fox, which I have never seen.

I hope I'll have a chance to watch them grow up!

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?

Red Fox on the Tuolumne River

After traveling several thousand miles through half a dozen national parks, you'd think I would be tired of watching for wild animals, but no, that never happens. It was a nice surprise this morning to see this Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) on my more or less daily walk along the Tuolumne River. This is the first time I've had a chance to get more than just a couple of quickly snapped pictures.

I've seen them a few times before in the area (one of my pictures of a fox is on the interpretive sign at the beginning of the trail), but it's been many months since I've spotted any. I'm pretty sure they've seen me more than I've seen them. This one was working its way across the slope where the metal stairwell climbs to the parking lot at the west end of the Tuolumne Parkway Trail. It's probably getting used to humans, as the new trail has proven popular.

There are two subspecies of Red Fox (out of around 45 worldwide!) that are native to central and northern California. One, the Sierra Nevada Red Fox, is exceedingly rare and lives only in the high country north of Yosemite National Park (it was recently sighted in Yosemite for the first time in a century). Another, the Sacramento Valley Red Fox, lives in the Great Valley north of Sacramento. This individual is neither; it is probably a descendant of foxes brought to the valley in the 1860s for hunting and fur production. The Red Foxes have adapted well to urban and agricultural development in the Great Valley (I've seen them on my mid-valley college campus), and they contribute to the control of rodent pests, but they may also be a detriment to the survival of the endangered San Joaquin Kit Fox, which has lost a vast amount of habitat and has a population of just a few thousand.

I saw a native Gray Fox in this same area several years ago. I don't know if they are co-existing, or if one has replaced the other.

The Importance of Green Zones in Urban Settings (and a Fox)

I've occasionally noted the presence of a river trail in our community at the boundary of the Sierra Nevada Mother Lode and the Great Valley. It follows a stretch of the Tuolumne River for two miles, allowing access to the river for fishing, hiking, riding, floating, and wildlife watching. It was constructed in the past year, and it has been a wonderful addition to our community. I've spent much of the last two years documenting the bird species seen along the trail (search "Tuolumne River" on my other blog Geotripper's California Birds for examples). I've found 55 species so far, but there are many more to be found.

There are many reasons that a trail like this is a valuable addition to a community, but one of the most important in this instance is that there are three schools within easy walking distance of the river. The kids of our community are starved for good science education, and the adjacent river is an incredible resource. There are already programs being conducted through the auspices of organizations like the Tuolumne River Trust.

I was out walking this evening at sunset, something I've been doing almost every day this summer (when I've been home, anyway). I've seen the birds, ground squirrels, river otters, and once in a great while I will see one of the foxes that live by the river. There are two kinds, the Gray Fox, and the Red Fox. Tonight's sighting was a Red Fox. There is a small patch of grass under some Redwood trees at the water treatment plant at the midpoint of the trail, and in the distance I could see a stump that I didn't remember seeing before. The camera zoom revealed the "stump" to be a fox lounging in the grass. We watched each other for a few moments, and the fox wandered into the brush.

Only the Gray Fox is native to the area. There is a Red Fox species, the Sierra Nevada Red Fox, but it is exceedingly rare and extremely unlikely to be found at low elevations. The Red Foxes of the Great Valley were escapees from fur farms and animals brought from back east for hunting purposes. They have been causing problems in some areas as they are hunting endangered species who have no natural defenses to their hunting tactics. To the best of my knowledge they are not having that kind of impact in this area. But darn if they aren't cute...

There was another upsetting development. Sometime between yesterday morning and this evening, a fire burned along a section of the trail, scorching perhaps an acre or so of grass. It burned way too close to some mature oak trees, but thankfully they don't seem to be damaged. I can't tell if the fire started at the base and moved up the hill, or the opposite, but it's disturbing that it happened. I don't like thinking that an arsonist is among us. The trees along the river are a precious gift.

Unexpected Events of the Day: Floods and Foxes

There were some pleasant sights to be had today. They didn't seem at all related at first (foxes and floods), but in a way they were.

We've had rain, finally, in amounts that might make some small dent in the drought that has plagued California for nearly five years. I was headed into work and crossed Dry Creek in the Waterford area. Something was different: the creek was flooding. Not a vast flood, not one likely to produce widespread damage, but still, the banks and some of the oak tree trunks were underwater. It was a shock to see so much water after literally years of dry channels under this bridge.

Dry Creek (who comes up with these imaginative names?) heads in the lower foothills of the Sierra Nevada, so it is never fed by melting snowpack. Peak runoff occurs instead during intense rainstorm events. The creek flows into the Central Valley near Waterford and eventually joins the Tuolumne River at Modesto, for a total length of about 60 miles. It no doubt earned the name "Dry" a century ago, but in more recent years water flowed in the creek most of the time due to irrigation runoff. And during the drought of the last four years, it has been dry for months at a time, once again earning its name.

There have not been many floods during the drought years. The soil has been so parched that what little rain fell soaked into the ground, leaving little for surface runoff. The 2015-2016 water year has been different. November and December provided above-normal rainfall (and a Sierra snowpack), so when the January storms hit this week (the first attributed to El Nino), the ground was pretty well saturated. Close to 2 inches fell over the region on Tuesday and Wednesday, and the river peaked today at almost 1,000 cubic feet per second. As can be seen on the flood hydrograph below, the river will recede relatively quickly to tens of cubic feet per second within a day or so.

The last time Dry Creek really caught my attention this way was back in March 2011, when the discharge was around three times higher than it was today, at 3,000 cubic feet per second. Compare the difference in the picture below, taken from the same bridge. The river was even higher in the El Nino year of 1997, and with a probability of once in 500 years the creek may produce flows as great as 18,500 cubic feet per second. That would be something to see, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Dry Creek in March 2011

The other unexpected event of the day was seeing a Red Fox out my office window. The fox lives on our campus so I've seen it two or three times before. It was running through an area slated to become an outdoor educational area for our Great Valley Museum of Natural History. The lab will emphasize the natural vegetation and animals of the valley. It was nice to see nature getting a bit of a head start!

Seeing these two different things reminded me that there is a small remnant of a natural ecosystem left in our valley, one that can never be completely obliterated by dams, farms, and cities. We can never truly control the rivers or droughts, and the tattered remnants of the original ecosystem will for the most part adapt and survive our invasion, albeit in small pockets here and there.

Can You See It? Seeking a Natural World in an Urban Setting

Can you see it? Look carefully, it's easy to miss...

We have a drainage pond on our west campus at the edge of town. It's been a mostly neglected corner of the campus, used occasionally to graze sheep from our agricultural unit. I've been exploring it for the last two years looking to photograph birds (forty species and counting). It's not far from our Science Community Center and Great Valley Museum. The museum and science teaching facility are new, and have garnered a great deal of community interest, with a planetarium, observatory, Science on a Sphere, and all kinds of science-related exhibits. The final jewel in the crown, an outdoor education laboratory, was sort of a political football in the last year or two as the bond issue that paid for these incredible educational facilities started to run short.

Luckily, there is funding in place to build the outdoor lab, with plans in place to plant native vegetation and habitat for animals that could thrive there. The California Drought, about to enter a fifth year, put the kibosh on what was to be a central attraction, a pond. No new water features, they said.

We're going to let nature decide that issue for us. We will be designing an artificial vernal pool, a habitat almost unique to our valley. Such pools only hold water after storms in the winter and spring, and give rise to a number of endemic plants and animals. In the meantime, our attention shifted to the drainage pond. It's been there since World War II and has evolved into a natural habitat, sort of a mini-wilderness on the edge of our campus. Since we can't make new ponds, we are going to make improvements to the old one, putting in walkways, and adding a platform that students and visitors can use to take water samples and observe wildlife.

It's always a thrill to see a bit of wildness in the middle of an urban environment. That's what the picture above is about. I had my own thrill of discovery as I was taking an evening walk before class. If you look at the left side of the picture, you'll see a bit of nature staring back at me.

I've seen this beautiful fox (or a parent or sibling) on just one other occasion. It's been said it was living in one of the abandoned buildings nearby, although there seems plenty of shelter in the pond area. It was comforting to know that a bit of wildness still exists nearby. The children in our region need to know that they are part of a larger environment, and it's wonderful that they just might have a chance to see a creature such as this. It might be something else, squirrels, muskrats, turtles or birds, but it will be something. I'm looking forward to the future on this campus!

Postscript: As cute as they are, the Red Foxes are not native to California. There is a threatened subspecies, the Sierra Red Fox, that lives in the higher parts of the Sierra Nevada and the Cascade Range. All others across the state were introduced more than a century ago and have proved a problem in many ecosystems, as they eat just about anything and adapt easily to new environments at the expense of native species. I don't know what role they play in our area, or if they are a problem. My feeling is that they help control rodent populations on the campus, but I'm no biologist!

Just a Neat Moment in My Day...

I'm back at work this week teaching geology, and after an unexpectedly busy summer organizing trips, I needed the rest! Being back on campus also allowed me to reacquaint myself with the campus "mini-wilderness", a drainage basin that has two or three acres of oak woodland and mature Eucalyptus trees. The area is occasionally used to graze sheep, but because it is fenced off, it protects an unusually diverse little ecosystem. Since I started observing bird species there last November, I have documented at least thirty-five species either living there, or passing through. There are no doubt more to be discovered.

For the last year I've been hearing rumors that a fox, or a fox family lived in the mini-wilderness, but for all my searching, I've never seen it. I was last told about it this very afternoon at our geology club meeting ("Have you seen the fox yet??"). So I was on a break and walking around the pond when I saw a furry creature walking through the underbrush. I'd seen one of the feral cats there just two days prior, so I figured it was the cat again...but it seemed bigger somehow. I continued walking, and in the finest tradition of all suspense movies, I felt like something was looking at me. I turned around and there it was!

It stared at me for a few moments, long enough for me to snap a few pictures, and then it loped off into the underbrush. My day had been fine enough, but it had just become a lot nicer.