We spotted a curious sea lion, or seal, (there’s a difference!) close to shore and checking things out near Albany Bulb, which doubles as a popular local dog park.
A few dogs at the beach noticed the creature and tried to give chase before owners stepped in to stop things. A number of people who frequent the beach mentioned they had never seen a sea lion at Albany Bulb before, leading many to wonder if something was wrong with it.
One way I know I’m getting old? It’s not the mysterious knee pain (self-inflicted, if we’re being honest). It’s when I download a bird identification app with multiple gigabytes of data and get excited about it.
I’m not joking! Recently, I excitedly told my wife, “ohhh, there’s a house finch in the backyard.” She gave me a savage eye roll that’s usually reserved for the best of my dad jokes.
But hear me out: Merlin Bird ID is actually ridiculously cool!
The app, made by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, has a sound ID feature that’s basically Shazam for birds. You hit record, point your phone vaguely skyward, and it tells you exactly what’s making noise around you in real time! It’s pretty neat to watch the spectrogram light up as different birds chime in, each one getting identified and added to your list.
I had no idea that we had more than a dozen species of birds just chit chatting out back: we’re talking Black Phoebes, Dark-eyed Juncos, House Finches, White-throated Sparrows, Golden-crowned Sparrows, Yellow-rumped Warblers, California Scrub-jays. Oh, and fucking crows.
The app is completely free and works offline once you download your region’s bird pack (like I mentioned earlier — this takes up gigabytes of data), and now I’m that person who stops mid-conversation because “oh wait, do you hear that? That’s a Chestnut-backed Chickadee!”
My kids think I’ve lost it. My wife is questioning everything about me. Benson is confused why our walks now involve me holding my phone in the air like I’m trying to find cell service.
But whatever, I can now identify the difference between an American Crow and a Common Raven! And let me tell you, there is a distinct difference.
I love Sir David Attenborough and was excited to read this. It’s one part biography, another part dire warning letter to those of us who will be alive long after David Attenborough departs this world, and one part hope, talking about the things we are doing now and in the near future to (hopefully, maybe) avoid a climate disaster.
The first half of the book is definitely not a happy-feel-good story. He writes a letter to us and future generations, warning of the changes he has seen in his lifetime and the changes yet to happen due to climate change and our affect on the planet.
It’s not all doom and gloom, though. He gives an overview of some of the sustainable ideas and technologies that various individuals, companies and even some governments are working on and the massive benefits they have if they are scaled up. It gives some hope that we might (maybe, hopefully) can turn things around. But time is definitely running out.
And given how people have generally responded to wearing masks and social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic, we probably don’t have much hope.
In the first episode, they document the discovery of Yosemite Valley and a quote by Lafayette Bunnell.
“None but those who have visited this most wonderful valley can even imagine the feelings with which I looked upon the scene that was there presented.
The grandeur of the scene was but softened by the haze that hung over the valley-light as gossamer-and by the clouds which partially dimmed the higher cliffs and mountains. This obscurity of vision but increased the awe with which I beheld it, and as I looked a peculiar exalted sensation seemed to fill my whole being, and I found my eyes in tears with emotion.
…for I have seen before me the power and glory of a Supreme being.”
It’s a great quote (and a great geology related quote at that) and reminds me of something a friend said to me on a backpacking trip in the Sierra Nevada a number of years ago.
While eating lunch on an outcrop overlooking a forested valley, he said, “I may not believe in much, but this right here, this is my church.”
One of the anecdotes they relate is the story of an octopus that snuck out of its enclosure at night and would snatch crabs from another tank. I’d actually heard this before, but didn’t realize it happened here!
About 10 years ago, Mr. Shepherd says, crabs kept mysteriously disappearing from a tank in the old academy. The culprit was a giant octopus two tanks over, which used its tentacles to sneak out at night and snatch crabs, he says. The octopus tank has since been wrapped in AstroTurf.