Black (as Night) Friday

November 24, 2017 / Jet Eliot / 88 Comments

Spotted Hyena, Zambia

This is the day in America when shoppers are enticed into stores for big sales. But for those of us who find greater value in fresh air and nature scenes, I thought it would be fun on this Friday to take you into the black night of Africa.

Except for the light of the moon, the nights are pitch black.

Giant Eagle Owl, Botswana aka Verreaux’s Owl

Safari Night Drive. One night in Zambia we were slowly driving along in the dark when our guide stopped and told us to get ready. We couldn’t hear or see anything, but he told us which way to face. Cameras went up.

Then he turned on the spotlight and right in front of us was a pool with about a dozen hippos quietly grazing on the water plants.

Hippo Pool, Zambia

Most of the time, guides keep the spotlight turned off to avoid disturbing the animals; they slowly drive the jeep with just parking lights.

With the spotlight off, all you can see are the animals’ eye-shine piercing through the deep dark. It is eerie to look out over a grass field and see dozens of those colored eyes looking at you. You don’t know if it’s a snarling hyena or an antelope.

You never ever step out of the vehicle.

Leopard, Zambia

The metallic-like colored dots are at various heights. Low to the ground are the hares, mongooses, rodents, and night birds. Several inches higher up are the small wild cats like civet or genet.

Genet, Tanzania

Gabon Nightjar, Zambia

Even on the blackest, darkest night, a good guide can identify the animal just by the eye shine. Eyes can be close together, far apart, and different colors according to species. Animal identification also depends on where the eyes are: in tall grass, on tree limbs, in water, running, or not running.

We came across this leopard pair in the Luangwa Valley in Zambia. We saw them a couple of times, and at one point the male had caught a bird that hung limply from his jaws. They walked off to enjoy their midnight snack, and we never saw them again.

Leopards, Zambia

Wild Cat, Botswana — Ancestor to the Domestic House Cat

The elephant was one of my favorite experiences in all of life. The photo is not the greatest, but the memory is. That night we were awakened by a stormy rustling.

It turned out to be a mother and her calf just outside our flimsy door. What sounded like a rain storm was the mother elephant tearing apart a tree, eating the leaves.

We remained silently watching, not making a sound.

Elephant, Zambia, the structure with windows on the left is our cottage

The story: The Night the Elephants Came to Visit

Here’s to enjoying the wild mysteries of the night.

Photo credit: Athena Alexander

African Civit

Eucalyptus in the Bay Area

November 17, 2017 / Jet Eliot / 75 Comments

Eucalyptus trees, eucalyptus globulus, Berkeley, CA

A tree that is native to Australia, the eucalyptus also thrives in the San Francisco Bay Area. This has been a fiercely contested topic for over thirty years.

I am still a vagabond after the fires last month destroyed parts of our home, spent this past weekend at a friend’s in the Berkeley/East Bay area. This part of the Bay Area has many eucalyptus trees. One day I took a walk through a large cemetery. It was filled with eucalyptus trees, and I was reminded of the controversy.

Some people like the eucalyptus trees. The pungent fragrance, exotic multi-colored trunks, and tall stature are pleasing. The tree produces a sweet nectar that draws hummingbirds, and other birds. It has seed pods and seasonal flowers, and elegant pointy leaves. It has beneficial medicinal value, too.

Eucalyptus tree trunk, Berkeley, CA. Ground debris has been cleaned up by groundskeepers.

I am always happy to see the flocks of yellow-rumped warblers that invariably visit groves of eucalyptus. The cheerful birds dance around in the tall treetops.

Other people despise the tree. The bark sheds in long strips, and sometimes limbs drop off too, making it a danger. Bark and pods and leaves litter the ground. Fire Departments all over California curse the flammability of the tree.

Moreover, a non-native invasive, they can overtake the native flora, and corresponding fauna as well. Due to its ability to readily re-sprout, it is nearly impossible to fully eradicate without use of strong pesticides.

Lawsuits, protests, campaigns, and debates have sparked the community for decades.

Eucalyptus leaves, Berkeley, CA

Atlantic magazine article about the debate.

As with much of Bay Area history, the California Gold Rush of the 1850s started the trend when the population dramatically increased. Lumber was needed to build housing. By the early 1900s entrepreneurs, like Frank C. Havens, a real estate developer, were certain this fast-growing tree was the perfect solution for quick lumber. He imported eucalyptus seedlings from Australia, and planted millions of trees all over the Bay Area.

Soon after, he discovered that the wood was too young for lumber use. The wood bent, cracked, and shrank.

In today’s bigger picture, there are 700+ species of eucalyptus, native to Australia and surroundings. There they call it “the gum tree.” Gum trees are everywhere. The leaves are the koala’s main diet.

A farmer and his dog, Kangaroo Isl., Aus.; in a grove of gum trees

One day while in Australia, we were looking for koalas in this grove (above). A ranger had told us we would find koalas here, and we had spent an hour searching for them, but found nothing. Then a farmer drove up (we were on his property), asked us if we needed help. We told him what we were doing, he leaned out of the front window, pointed up and showed us three koalas sleeping in the trees.

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree (Blue-winged Kookaburra, Queensland, Australia)

Eucalyptus globulus, also known as the Tasmanian Blue Gum, is the prevalent species in the Bay Area. They usually range in height from 98-180 feet tall (30-55 m).

The get-rich-quick themes of yesteryear have caused problems for native plants of today. All over the world there are theories and plans for eradicating invasive non-natives, making more hospitable space for native species; not just for eucalyptus trees, but for many plants and animals.

But as I stood underneath the Berkeley eucalyptus trees this past weekend, I filled my lungs with the refreshing aroma, and thanked them for their strength and beauty.

Photo credit: Athena Alexander

Red-tailed Black-Cockatoo, Aus., in gum tree

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

November 10, 2017 / Jet Eliot / 71 Comments

Photo courtesy Wikipedia

One of North America’s smaller birds, the ruby-crowned kinglet spends the winter in northern California. I have had the pleasure of watching this sprightly bird many times this week, in the urban neighborhood where I am staying.

At 3.5-4.3 inches long (9-11 cm), they are bigger than a hummingbird, smaller than a chickadee. In the winter they are not searching for a mate or singing; they are hunting. They eat mostly insects, like spiders and ants, but also berries and tree sap sometimes.

Photo credit: Dan Pancamo, Wikipedia

Wikipedia info here.

Although the name suggests they have a ruby crown, this feature is rarely visible. I’ve seen this delightful bird at least a thousand times, and only saw the ruby crown twice. Once was 25 years ago after a big rain…his crest sparkled like a ruby. Only the males have this feature.

Photo credit: Dan Pancamo, Wikipedia

The kinglet migrates, they just arrived to California last month. They stay in milder climates, like the southern U.S. and west coast, throughout the winter. See map below.

A common bird, seen in urban, rural, and suburban settings, there are an estimated 90 million ruby-crowned kinglets across North America. They appear restless, acrobatically flitting about and frequently flicking their wings, and so fast they are tricky to see sometimes.

Everyday I hear the kinglet. It’s not a melodious tune, for it is not mating time, but it is distinctive. It’s a ratcheting clicking sound, known as a contact call; I can hear it through the closed windows.

Ruby-crowned kinglet contact call.

No matter what I’m doing, I hear the bird’s click-click and know that this perky little bird is outside the window cheering up my space.

Courtesy Wikipedia

Ruby-crowned Kinglet Range Map

The Power of the Lion

November 3, 2017 / Jet Eliot / 37 Comments

Dear friends, I am humbled and grateful for your kindness and support from all over the world. Although I am unable to respond to each individual at this time, please know I am reading your comments, a blanket of comfort.

We are still displaced from our home, and will be at least a half year or more, so the tasks are tremendous, and mounting with each new day.

In order to keep my courage up, I have been thinking a lot about the bold, raw power of the ferocious lion. This is a post I published two years ago: Lions in the Serengeti.