Celebrating Earth Day with River Otters

April 24, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 42 Comments

I had the joy of watching a trio of river otters at Point Reyes last week. They are a great example of a come-back species, one of many we celebrate this week with Earth Day.

The North American River Otter is a marine mammal that was primarily extirpated or severely reduced across much of the United States in the late 19th to early-to-mid 20th century. Many local extinctions, per the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, occurred between the 1900s and 1950s due to unregulated trapping for the fur trade, water pollution, and habitat destruction.

We are lucky in our lifetime to observe numerous species rebound, like river otters, due to major environmental regulations in the 1970s. This was when Earth Day was born, too. Thereafter, reintroduction and conservation efforts in the 1980s and 1990s helped restore populations.

River otters in Point Reyes National Seashore had disappeared by 1960. Then in the late 1980s three river otters were discovered near Tomales and since then they have expanded throughout their range.

The river otter sighting we enjoyed last week at Abbotts Lagoon was about the fifth or sixth time we have seen them here.

River otters are in the weasel family (Mustelidae) and share distinct physical and behavioral characteristics with weasels like elongated bodies, short legs, and carnivorous diets.

North American River Otter Wikipedia

This is the lagoon, below, and the footbridge; way in the back are sand dunes leading to the Pacific Ocean. Wild iris flowers in foreground.

Lontra canadensis are highly sociable and frequently play in water, which helps young ones learn hunting and survival skills.

They use various vocalizations and scents to communicate within their groups.

They also engage in what is called latrine behavior. River otters extensively use communal latrines near water edges to communicate, marking territory through feces and urine. These areas are also used for grooming, scent-marking, and playing.

They use these sites especially in spring and fall, and we were there last week to witness their curious scat dance.

One otter got out of the water, arched his back, stomped back and forth on his hind legs, then defecated (the otter in the center, below).

Right after that one of his buddies vigorously rolled around in the scat, top otter in photo below.

The three otters rolled around and cavorted in the dunes, then playfully slid back into the water and resumed their hunting.

Each otter disappeared under the water and came up with a fish wriggling in its jaws and rather savagely gobbled up the fish.

While the three otters romped and hunted, nearby great egrets and great blue herons quietly hunted tiny fish and stayed out of the way.

Every time we observe the river otters in this corner of the lagoon they are eating fish, their number one prey.

But they also eat crustaceans, like crayfish, also reptiles, amphibians, shrimp and some birds. I’ve read reports that an unusual behavior of the Abbotts Lagoon river otters has been spotted lately, preying on brown pelicans here, but I have never seen this.

We were lucky that day last week, watching and photographing this comical river otter dance at the quiet shoreline of the lagoon.

A raven pair acrobatically spun together in the sky above us while swallows built their mud nests under the footbridge. It was still too chilly for dragonflies or butterflies, but fuzzy caterpillars dotted the trail and the new salmonberries reached out for the sun.

The glories of spring on planet Earth.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Celebrating Earth Day with River Otters

April 24, 2026April 23, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 13 Comments

I had the joy of watching a trio of river otters at Point Reyes last week. They are a great example of a come-back species, one of many we celebrate this week with Earth Day.

River otters in Point Reyes National Seashore had disappeared by 1960. Then in the late 1980s three river otters were discovered near Tomales and since then they have expanded throughout their range.

The river otter sighting we enjoyed last week at Abbotts Lagoon was about the fifth or sixth time we have seen them here.

River otters are in the weasel family (Mustelidae) and share distinct physical and behavioral characteristics with weasels like elongated bodies, short legs, and carnivorous diets.

North American River Otter Wikipedia

This is the lagoon, below, and the footbridge; way in the back are sand dunes leading to the Pacific Ocean. Wild iris flowers in foreground.

Lontra canadensis are highly sociable and frequently play in water, which helps young ones learn hunting and survival skills.

They use various vocalizations and scents to communicate within their groups.

They use these sites especially in spring and fall, and we were there last week to witness their curious scat dance.

One otter got out of the water, arched his back, stomped back and forth on his hind legs, then defecated (the otter in the center, below).

Right after that one of his buddies vigorously rolled around in the scat, top otter in photo below.

The three otters rolled around and cavorted in the dunes, then playfully slid back into the water and resumed their hunting.

Each otter disappeared under the water and came up with a fish wriggling in its jaws and rather savagely gobbled up the fish.

While the three otters romped and hunted, nearby great egrets and great blue herons quietly hunted tiny fish and stayed out of the way.

Every time we observe the river otters in this corner of the lagoon they are eating fish, their number one prey.

We were lucky that day last week, watching and photographing this comical river otter dance at the quiet shoreline of the lagoon.

The glories of spring on planet Earth.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

The Temple of Kom Ombo, Egypt

April 10, 2026April 9, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 53 Comments

I want to tell you about a special Egyptian temple located majestically beside the Nile called Kom Ombo. Please join me as we drift back for a few minutes to ancient Egypt….

The temple is 31 miles (50 km) north of the city of Luxor and was built during the Ptolemaic dynasty approximately 2,200-2,230 years ago. It was first built by the pharaohs of Egypt and completed by a Roman emperor over roughly 400 years.

More info: Temple of Kom Ombo Wikipedia

It is constructed of limestone and sandstone from local quarries and was saved from disintegration and disrepair by a French archaeologist in 1893. Jacques de Morgan (1857-1924).

One of the many unique aspects of the Temple of Kom Ombo is that it honored two deities, unlike most temples that honor just one. Essentially two temples in one.

The temple was built with dual sanctuaries and mirrored layouts in perfect symmetry allowing for separate priesthoods to perform rituals side by side. This innovative design created a rare space of religious harmony where differing beliefs coexisted within one sacred complex.

The two deities worshipped here were Sobek and Horus, photo below.

In their half-human forms seen below are Horus the Falcon God on the left and Sobek the Crocodile God on the right. Both of these god figures are seen often throughout the temple.

Hundreds of crocodiles once roamed the area inside and around the Kom Ombo temple. More than 300 crocodile mummies were found at the Kom Ombo temple and now reside in the nearby Crocodile Museum.

This relief, below, shows Horus the Falcon God (L) beside Goddess Hathor (R).

Other wall art includes very large reliefs (photo below).

This relief, below, shows the Egyptian Queen Cleopatra on the far left.

Temples were generally only accessible to the priesthood. But to allow others to worship, a temple sometimes had a “chapel of the hearing ear” closer to the front, open to the public.

Kom Ombo’s Chapel of the Hearing Ear, seen below. This was a specialized niche built into the outer, rear wall.

As visitors walk through this main temple, they are surrounded by elaborately decorated towering walls and columns leading to courtyards, sanctuary rooms, chapels, crypts, and hidden passages.

In the northwestern section of the temple complex is a scientific tool called a Nilometer–an ancient device for measuring the water level of the Nile. Priests measured water levels with scientific precision and monitored flooding patterns crucial for agricultural planning and religious calendar timing.

There was also a large ancient Egyptian calendar on the temple’s inner wall, a portion of which is seen below. These carvings display hieroglyphic numerals and showcase the agricultural year.

Some of the ceiling parts highlight astronomical scenes, seen in the photo below with the original paint. If you tilt your head to the right, you see this ceiling relief shows five protective vultures, each with spread wings.

Still preserved are architectural columns decorated with carvings of Nile plants, primarily papyrus and lotus.

And now for my favorite part–the medical wall. This is another unique feature of Kom Ombo, rarely depicted in other Egyptian temples.

I like it because it closely parallels today’s doctor’s offices and hospitals, connecting our current human life to the lives of the people of ancient Egypt thousands of years ago.

During the Roman Period in the 2nd century AD, this scene was carved featuring surgical instruments, strongly suggesting that priests performed medical treatments here. This practice blended ritualistic healing with practical medical knowledge, making Kom Ombo one of the earliest spiritual-medical institutions in Egypt.

Located on Kom Ombo’s rear outer wall, the scene highlights medical tools like scalpels, forceps, scissors, curettes, medicine bottles and cupping glasses. Photo below.

Carvings show tools for bone sawing, amputation, cauterization, dental extraction, eye surgery, gynecology, and surgical stitching. Visible on the top row in the center is a bone saw, you can see a jagged, vertical blade in this photo.

This relief carving is often cited as the earliest known inscribed depiction of a comprehensive set of medical and surgical instruments.

Birthing is also expressed on the walls of Kom Ombo. In the relief above, the left side is a scene of two goddesses sitting on birthing chairs.

A second birthing scene can be seen in the hieroglyph photo below. Inside the photo’s white rectangular box is a woman kneeling with a baby emerging beneath her.

But our enchanting time at Kom Ombo was coming to an end. By now the sun was setting over the Nile and it was time to leave.

Archaeologists on the Kom Ombo periphery were still busy as the day’s light was quickly waning. Their studies and findings continue day after day.

Thanks for joining me on this visit to Kom Ombo, seeing how our civilization existed back then, and not all that differently from today.

Human splendor.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

February Day at Pt. Reyes

March 27, 2026March 26, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 45 Comments

On a wintry day last month, we ventured to Point Reyes National Seashore in northern California. The day began with drizzly rain and then it poured. After about an hour of pouring rain, the sun came out and we were frolicking in the sparkling freshness.

Apparently the wildlife was waiting for the rain to stop, too, because when it did, many species came out to forage.

This coyote below (Canis latrans) had some hunting to do after the storm had passed.

With a low cloud cover, raptors were closer than usual. Below are two photos of a red-tailed hawk, Buteo jamaicensis.

American Kestrels came out to join us, too (below). Falco sparverius are the smallest and most common falcon in North America.

That day we had a special guest with us, my sister, so we had a lot to show her on her first visit to Pt. Reyes. We headed for the elk reserve and had the joy of introducing her to her first elk.

There were several herds out. In the three photos below, the first photo is a female harem resting in the newly arrived sun, the second is a male, the third is a female. Cervus canadensis nannodes.

At this time of year when we have had a decent amount of winter rain, the hillsides are emerald and the mammals, in their robust bodies and vibrant winter coats, find plenty of prey.

Rains bring a healthy lifestyle to the countryside.

Cattle are being phased out of the park, but there are still some herds. The front left cow in the photo below is called an oreo cow, aka a Belted Galloway.

We also saw a pair of bobcats…for about ten seconds.

Bobcats (Lynx rufus) usually hunt solo; to see a pair is unusual. I think they were a mating pair.

They were truly lovely to see. But the winter rains yield tall grass which made them difficult to see, not a good photo to share.

Here’s a different bobcat (below) we saw in Point Reyes last year.

Exclusively native to North America, bobcats are in the Lynx family, though they are much smaller than the other lynx species. They are only about 50 inches (125 cm) long including the tail. The tail is short or “bobbed,” hence their name.

After we soaked up the earth animals and the breathtaking landscapes, we drove to Drakes Beach to see the elephant seals.

We hoped there were still some adults at the beach and were pleased to find many. These are the northern elephant seal, Mirounga angustirostris.

Unlike the other wildlife we’d seen that day, the elephant seal behavior was not altered from the rainstorm–they are creatures of the water.

But they won’t be here much longer because their mating and birthing activities are over.

Now that the next generation has been born and nearly all weaned, it is time for the adults to resume their hunting and feeding in the north near Alaska, they have been fasting since November and December. The pups, however, will stay until they teach themselves how to swim.

This is a bull, below.

As you can see from the statistic board posted that day, there were about 49 adults as well as weanlings and pups. Total seals: 124.

We could see a few of the pups had been born within the week, others had been born in late December, January and early February.

It was easy to pick out the newborns (wrinkly and lethargic) in comparison to the weeks-old pups (nursing and demanding). The young one in the photo below (front right) is a weanling, still dependent on the mother for milk.

The young ones scream a lot.

Since that day there has been, unfortunately, recent findings of a highly pathogenic avian influenza in elephant seals in southern California. The colony in Pt. Reyes, however, has not yet shown signs of the virus. Researchers from UC Santa Cruz, UC Davis and the Marine Mammal Center are monitoring and testing Pt. Reyes elephant seals frequently.

There were also plenty of surf scoters and marbled godwits that day on Drakes Beach. Both species are wintering birds and will soon head back “home” for their breeding cycle.

The surf scoters (first photo, below) will migrate for Alaska and Canada in a month or two; the marbled godwits (second photo, below) will head back to the prairies of northern U.S. and Canada in April and May.

Wherever we are, it is a delight to watch earth’s seasonal changes, reminding us that each month, each day, is a celebration of life.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Birds of Panama and Costa Rica

March 13, 2026March 13, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 69 Comments

I was very lucky to trek through several rainforests recently in Panama and Costa Rica and have some gorgeous tropical birds to share.

I would like to say we meandered dreamily through these exotic rainforests, but rainforests are not dreamy places. They are extreme with high temperatures (90 F. every day) and high humidity, biting ants and mosquitoes, and mucky trails that are covered with tree roots, vines, and occasional vipers.

Still, it was absolutely glorious to two lifelong birders who treasure the Neotropics.

Toucans touting primary colors with bills bigger than their faces, and iridescent hummingbirds buzzing by in their speedy territorial pursuits.

Below, a pair of Yellow-billed Toucans (Ramphastos ambiguus swainsonii) perched high in the canopy.

This hummingbird species has a longer bill and tail than most of our American species and lives year-round in Central America and parts of South America. Long-billed Hermit, below, Phaethornis longirostris cephalus.

While boating we had the delight of spotting many foraging snail kites. You can see below the curved bill of the snail kite (Rostrhamus sociabilis); it is perfectly designed to probe inside the hard shell of a snail and extract the snail meat.

Most of this trip revolved around lakes, rivers and the Pacific Ocean, so many of our bird sightings were water birds, like these heron species, below.

Boat-billed herons (below) have a boat-shaped bill that gives them a somewhat comical look. Cochlearius cochlearius.

This heron below has distinctive stripes around the throat, hence its name, the bare-throated tiger heron. Tigrisoma mexicanum.

The aptly named Magnificent Frigatebird that soars above the neotropical coasts was with us every single day, a gift I thought about often as I drifted to sleep each night.

One of earth’s larger seabirds, the frigatebird has a wingspan of 7-8 feet (2-2.5 m).

Over the years I have seen frigatebirds throughout the coasts of Central and South America, but never in as much abundance as on these secluded islands.

Below is a female, Fregata magnificens.

Every night we slept on a ship, and every day we deboarded the ship onto small boats and headed for small islands where we hiked rainforest trails.

The rainforest is dense in these small, protected islands near the Panama Canal and the west coast, and there were many bird species.

Panama is slightly smaller than the state of South Carolina and yet it boasts approximately 1,000 bird species. In comparison, the very large U.S. has about 1,100 bird species.

Woodpeckers survive on trees, and the rainforests were filled with them.

One of the world’s smallest woodpeckers was quietly hiding in a leafy tree. Below, the Olivaceous Piculet, seen in Costa Rica. Picumnus olivaceus.

Not only is this a tiny woodpecker, less than four inches long (10 cm), but they have a fairly tiny range on our big earth, so we felt really lucky to find this little male.

Grosbeaks, mot mots, tanagers and trogons are special denizens of the tropical rainforest.

This is a Slaty-tailed Trogon, below. Trogon massena.

We were fortunate to be in Panama’s Soberania National Park near the Pipeline Road, a famous birding spot. We climbed up a 105-foot (32 m) spiral staircase to a canopy observation platform and soaked up serene views overlooking the rainforest, spotted many raptors and rainforest birds.

Photo courtesy pipelineroad.org

Our view from the observation tower.

In a rainforest in Costa Rica, we came upon this industrious Orange-billed Sparrow in a tangle of palms.

Another rainforest bird in Costa Rica is the curassow. We were pleased to see both the male and female, a “lifer” for us. Below is the female. Crax rubra.

A large neotropical gamebird, both genders have a curly crest.

We were often ferried from our ship to island rainforests, sometimes so isolated there wasn’t even a landing dock or bathroom. One day we spent the morning on an island where some passengers kayaked and others of us, like the birders, traversed the rainforest.

The ubiquitous black vultures, usually seen cruising above and rarely on the ground, were a pleasant close-up surprise on the beach. Coragyps atratus. They were drinking fresh water.

Rainforest birding requires a strong neck and plenty of patience, because the canopies are high and birds are hidden in the dense thickets.

But one bird species that always stood out was the scarlet macaw with its large size, show-stopping colors, and throaty squawks and screams. Ara macao.

Here’s a link (below) to an excellent scarlet macaw recording by Paul Driver.

Link: Xeno-Canto Scarlet Macaw sound recording

Today we have gone high and low, enjoyed big birds and little birds, quiet ones and bawdy ones, and celebrated together a few of the avian beauties of Central American rainforests. Thanks for joining us on this colorful adventure.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander; two unmarked photos are friendly contributions.

Yellow-crowned Night Heron *(Nyctanassa violacea*)

Monkeys of Central America

February 13, 2026February 12, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 69 Comments

It is with utter delight that I share with you wild monkeys experienced on a recent trip to the rainforests of Panama and Costa Rica.

In the tropics of the Americas, the New World, we have New World monkeys–different than monkeys in Africa and other eastern parts of the globe.

New World monkeys descend from African simians that colonized South America, a line that split off about 40 million years ago.

New World Monkey Range, courtesy Wikipedia

The noses of New World monkeys are flatter than the narrow noses of Old World monkeys, and have side-facing nostrils. Also, New World monkeys have prehensile tails whereas Old World monkeys do not. There are more differences, too.

More information: New World Monkey Wikipedia

We saw the first monkey of the trip from a motorboat in Panama. We were slowly cruising the coastline, looking for wildlife, when a white-faced capuchin monkey was spotted in the trees above us. Cebus imitator. This species lives in Costa Rica, Panama, Honduras and Nicaragua.

They eat fruit, buds, flowers, insects, small invertebrates and more. Although they are listed on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species as Vulnerable, they are fairly common in protected forests.

They have a distinctive black cap, seen below, for which they are named. This “cap” is said to resemble the cowls (hoods) worn by Capuchin friars.

Also in Panama, we saw the Geoffroy’s Tamarin monkey scrambling among the tree trunks close to shore. Saguinus geoffroyi. Two photos, below.

They are Central America’s smallest monkey, at 9-9.5 inches (23-24 cm) excluding the tail.

That long tail you see is a prehensile tail–a specialized, muscular appendage capable of grasping, holding and manipulating objects. Found only in New World monkeys, the prehensile tail allows the primate to suspend its entire body weight by only the tail, leaving arms and legs free for foraging and locomotive activities.

Saguinus geoffroyi are diurnal and arboreal and not seen anywhere else in the world except Panama and Colombia.

We also heard howler monkeys in Panama, but they were too far up in the canopy to photograph.

Wherever we were, cruising the shoreline or walking the trails, their haunting howling and moaning reverberated throughout the dense rainforest.

Panama rainforests were wonderful. We saw other mammals including sloths, many reptiles, insects and birds–to be featured in future posts.

Geoffroy’s Spider Monkey, Panama

It was late January and every day it was 90 degrees F. with high humidity.

Then we moved on to Costa Rica–the southern Pacific coast.

One day Athena and I had been birding and were in the shade afterward, drinking water and studying the field guide, when one of the naturalists asked us if we wanted to see the squirrel monkeys, he would take us to them. We quickly donned our equipment and off we went.

Leaping from palm frond to frond were these red-backed squirrel monkeys, shown below. Saimiri oerstedii. This wily one was hopping on the banana clumps and zipping through the palm trees.

Saimiri oerstedii are small monkeys at 9-14 inches long (23-35 cm) and weigh up to 2.2 pounds (1 kg). Their conservation status is Endangered.

Many New World monkeys have a troubled conservation status due to illegal hunting, pet trade, deforestation, habitat loss, and more.

On our last day in Costa Rica, we were passengers in a Zodiac (inflatable boat) cruising down a river. High above us were the howler monkeys, barely visible except for large moving branches bouncing in the leafy treetops.

Found exclusively in the New World, howlers are the biggest monkeys. Depending on the species, they are 22-36 inches long (56-19 cm) (not including tail) and typically weigh between 15 and 22 pounds (6.8–10 kg).

Howler monkeys are one of my favorite monkeys because of their incredible sounds. I felt lucky to hear them every day.

I have heard them before on previous Central and South American trips and am lovingly familiar with their glorious howls. But for those who have never heard them, the sounds can be alarming, spooky.

The first time I heard them, in the dark in the Amazon, I thought we were in a tornado. It was so dark I couldn’t see that there was no wind.

Here is a recording, link below, that isn’t too frightening. Courtesy Rangerrick.org.

Howler monkey sound recording

New World monkeys have organized social hierarchies, vocal warning alarm calls, sophisticated use of tools and many more fascinating characteristics.

I guess what I love most about these monkeys are their agility. They effortlessly traverse the seemingly impervious jungle using arms, legs and tail, flying gracefully through the air, latching onto limbs and branches with ease.

How fortunate we are to have these creatures among us.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander and fellow travelers on the Quest.

Sacramento NWR–2026

February 6, 2026February 5, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 53 Comments

Last month we visited the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge and it was a chilly day in the mid-40s (F.), but clear and sunny. I am happy to share another winter migration miracle with you.

This is a special place because it is on the Pacific Flyway–a major 10,000-mile North American migration route for over a billion birds from Arctic Alaska down to South America’s Patagonia.

In North America there are four primary migratory corridors or flyways. The Pacific Flyway, in green on the map below, covers the western states.

Located in the Central Valley of California, the Pacific Flyway hosts roughly 60% of the flyway’s wintering population. The
Sacramento NWR, where we were, is a complex that includes several wildlife areas.

The first time Athena and I visited here was on New Year’s Eve of 1993. We have been visiting the Sacramento Valley every winter since then…and always with reverence for the migrating birds as well as the humans who support this massive endeavor.

In our 33 years of birding adventures in this valley, we have seen tens of thousands of geese and ducks every year. There are also raptors, songbirds, waders, shorebirds, river otters, turtles, coyote, and more. (Black phoebe songbird, below.)

It is not by accident that the birds visit here. Decade after decade, many people devote themselves to this wildlife phenomenon. Agricultural contributions to habitat management are driven by private businesses, state-funded incentive programs, and collaborative partnerships.

The waterfowl migration management is the result of environmental programs that pay farmers to flood their fields post-harvest (October–February) to decompose straw, provide waste grain for forage, and offer critical stopover, foraging, and resting for the migratory birds.

More information here:California Wetland Program by Audubon Magazine

Snow geese are the primary migrating bird at the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge, seen below. The Sutter Buttes are the mountains in the background.

You can see a white horizontal ribbon through the middle of the photograph, below. All that white is thousands of snow geese.

It is a true joy to return to this valley every winter. We are thrilled by the raucous squawking and honking of the geese and the spectacle of giant waves of hundreds and hundreds of these huge birds darkening the sky.

There are also several other kinds of geese, dozens of duck species, and numerous other bird species.

Most of the ducks and geese are just here for the winter. When the earth warms up, they will head back to their breeding grounds in the northern parts of the continent.

Every year we see this migrating duck species, below, the green-winged teal. We saw hundreds of them that day.

Also seen in abundance every winter are one of my favorite duck species: the Northern Pintail, seen below. This is a male Anas acuta drinking water. During the other seasons they are in their breeding grounds primarily in Canada and Alaska.

Some birds, like this western meadowlark below, live here year-round. Sturnella neglecta.

Every year is different depending on many conditions, especially weather.

Last month we were pleasantly surprised to spot a few Blue-winged Teal ducks, seen below. Spatula discors. We have not seen this bird here in over a decade. (Male on left, female on right.)

There are many species of shorebirds, too, like the long-billed dowitchers (below) and a curious killdeer (photo below that).

It will be in this month of February when most of the migrating birds will begin their return to their breeding grounds. If all goes well, in the fall they will be back.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

2025 Nature in Review

January 2, 2026December 31, 2025 / Jet Eliot / 74 Comments

Happy New Year dear friends. Here are some photos from America, coast to coast in all the seasons–12 nature moments in 2025. I am hoping you, too, have embraced beautiful sights in 2025.

JANUARY—We came upon this river otter while birding the Pacific Flyway winter migration in the San Joaquin Delta of California. Lontra canadensis.

FEBRUARY—The northern elephant seals (12 or more seen here) were tending their newborns on this chilly day at Drake’s Beach, Pt. Reyes, California. Mirounga augustirostris.

MARCH—A pair of mallards on the frigid water of the Chena River, Fairbanks, Alaska.

APRIL—Signs of spring at Abbotts Lagoon in Pt. Reyes, California. Wild douglas iris (Iris douglasiana).

MAY—A quiet boat ride down the Suwannee Canel at Okefenokee Swamp. Mossy cypress trees, black water, alligators silently traversing too.

JUNE—Spring emergence of the California Tortoiseshell butterflies on Mt. Ashland in Oregon. They were gathering sustenance from the tiny bell flowers of a blooming manzanita tree. Nymphalis californica.

JULY—Rural Illinois on a summer day, storm brewing, knee-high patches of wild prairie flowers between corn fields and farmhouses.

AUGUST—A boat ride on the San Francisco Bay at Tiburon, California, we were headed for a day of frolicking on Angel Island. Mt. Tamalpais reigning in the background.

SEPTEMBER—Breathing in the Pacific sea air at Bodega Head in Bodega Bay, California, as we waited for the fish shack to open for lunch.

OCTOBER—A cawing raven telling of the upcoming storm on this autumn day at Pt. Reyes, California. Corvus corax.

NOVEMBER—A foggy winter Wednesday on the Mendocino Coast, California. My birthday.

DECEMBER—A bird species we welcome in the winter at Pt. Reyes–the Say’s Phoebe, taking a momentary break from hawking insects. Sayornis saya.

Thank you, dear readers, for your visits and comments and interest this past year. A special thanks to my fellow bloggers for sharing the marvels of this planet with me.

Cheers to a new year ahead filled with more beauty…and the gifts to see it, smell it, hear it, feel it…hold it.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

The Long-billed Curlew

December 19, 2025December 18, 2025 / Jet Eliot / 53 Comments

Now that we’re in the middle of December, all of our winter birds in northern California have arrived. It is with great pleasure that I share a bit of information and photos featuring one of my favorite over-wintering shorebirds: the long-billed curlew.

The largest shorebird in North America, Numenius americanus have a distinctive long, downward-curved bill.

They also have gorgeous plumage with touches of mauve, in the right light, and cinnamon colors. There is a flourish of geometric shapes with speckling and barring.

The curlews will stay here on the shores of Pt. Reyes and other northern California coastal habitats until spring, around April. Additionally, they winter in parts of coastal Florida, Texas, and much of Mexico. (Range map below.)

They consume a robust winter diet with the use of their exquisitely long bills, probing deep into mud and sand for aquatic invertebrates.

How long is that bill? It’s about 5-7″ long (12.7-17.78 cm).

The curlews were busy probing and it was entertaining.

Most shorebirds probe the sand but some invertebrates, buried deep, cannot be reached. But the long-billed curlew can surpass what most shorebirds cannot reach.

Several times I watched a curlew dig up a buried sand crab and then drop it. There would sometimes be a few tries before the crab was conquered.

We enjoyed a blissfully quiet beach, the fog and briny aroma, and the shorebirds. Mid-December when so much of the world seems to be in distress or chaos, we quietly strolled this beach and absorbed the peace and beauty.

Both these birds, pictured below, are winter visitors. It is heartwarming to see both species back at Pt. Reyes after all these months of absence.

The long-billed curlew is on the left, the marbled godwit on the right. They often forage together.

We heard two curlews exchange a whistled vocalization, which reminded me that the curlew is named for its sound–an onomatopoeic moniker for its vocalization: a harsh whistled cur-lee.

In spring the long-billed curlews will migrate to their native habitat of dry grassland and sagebrush prairie where they feed on insects like beetles, grasshoppers, caterpillars, spiders, toads and more.

This seems a little different to me than many birds who migrate in winter from a cold coast to a warmer one, or a frigid grassland to a warmer one. To go from a grassland in summer to a coastal habitat in winter is slightly unusual. I like their flexibility.

When the earth warms, the curlews will return to their western North America breeding grounds, mainly the Great Plains and Great Basin.

Blue=wintering grounds. Orange=breeding grounds.

Range Map courtesy allaboutbirds.org

Shorebirds, for most birders, can be tricky to identify. Many of their colors are similar–whites, tans, browns, blacks–and their markings too. Some, like gulls, have different plumage for different life phases, which is confusing. Additionally, the light on a beach can be difficult with the sun, sand and water reflections often rendering birds as mere silhouettes.

But the long-billed curlew, with that gracefully curving extension, stands out in pure glory.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.

Mendocino, California

November 21, 2025February 7, 2026 / Jet Eliot / 41 Comments

We are off to the northern California coast today to fill our lungs with fresh briny sea air and experience the raw beauty of the Mendocino shoreline.

Before we get there, the road takes us past autumnal vineyards in Anderson Valley and then a redwood forest.

Northern California has had the fortune of rain throughout autumn. The vineyard leaves have been a rich combination of gold, orange and red. With each rain a few more deciduous grape leaves flutter to the ground.

Redwood trees thrive in the coastal areas of Northern California due to summer fog, mild temperatures, and winter rains. Many of the inland roads leading to the coast feature redwood groves.

We drove through this one, pictured below, on Highway 128. Navarro River Redwoods State Park.

We enjoyed the typical aspects of coastal redwood forests: dripping canopies and a redolent earthy aroma. The understory was glistening with sword ferns and clover-like sorrel. Our steps on the soft, red needle carpet were hushed.

Mature trees here were second-growth, about 200-240 feet tall (61-73m). Second-growth trees are the most common redwoods we see in California today. Sequoia sempervirens. These have been cut once, usually logged in the 1800s, and have now grown back.

The really big giants, i.e. old-growth, that have never been cut, comprise less than 5% of the redwoods in California.

We have the intrepid Save the Redwoods League to thank for protecting our redwoods.

As glorious as all this is, it’s time to get back in the car and head to Mendocino.

The narrow, winding roads are always tricky on these redwood stretches because the trees keep growing; there are places where a solid, tall redwood is just a few arm-lengths from your car.

Twenty minutes later we have reached the coastal highway, Highway 1–the longest state route in California, spanning 656 miles (1,056 km).

Many worldwide visitors come to California to see Highway 1, take in the Pacific Ocean and its majestic beauty. Most folks, however, visit the Big Sur section of the highway in southern California.

Today we are at the opposite end, in the north. It takes us to the town and county of Mendocino.

Typical of northern California shorelines, the Mendocino coast is a rugged coast with rocky cliffs, sea arches and rustic beaches.

Geographically situated at the junction of three tectonic plates, this coast has been rocked and jolted throughout the centuries. Pacific, North American and Gorda plates.

It is the rocky coastline and dense fog that has made the Mendocino coast notorious for shipwrecks. The shipwreck of the Frolic in 1850 is what led shipmates, in a salvaging effort, to the discovery of a redwood forest. This soon brought in loggers and settlers, and the new town of Mendocino was born.

There are many small islands on this part of the coast, like the ones photographed above and below. They are a perfect spot for sea birds to forage and preen in peace–no humans or land predators.

The water is never still here. Waves are forever crashing against the miles and miles of jagged rocks and cliffs. Jetties, tidepools, sea foam, driftwood in spots. Sea palms on the rocks get swooshed and jostled by rhythmic waves.

The scenic town of Mendocino caters largely to tourists. It is a small, unincorporated town of great beauty with a population of not quite 1,000. The village was founded around a mill in the 1850s and attracted settlers who built Victorian-style homes, churches, and stores, creating a historic architecture that is a major draw for tourists.

There are pricey shops and restaurants, many breathtaking views of the ocean wherever you go, and an ambience of mellow quirkiness and charm.

Summers here are busy, winter days less so. The ocean, in the photo below, is at the end of this downtown street.

I cannot highlight Mendocino California without addressing the town’s name to fame: Murder She Wrote. It was a popular TV series from 1984 to 1996 featuring Angela Lansbury as Jessica Fletcher who solved an uncanny number of murders in the small fictional town of Cabot Cove represented by Mendocino. Opening credits and some scenes feature the Mendocino coast. Jessica’s “home” is here, too. It’s called Blair House on Lake Street and is now a small inn.

For a short time, we walked around the town and cemetery, but it was always the coast that was drawing us in. We spent most of our time frolicking along the water’s edge–walking trail paths, birding, and eating take-out meals overlooking the sea.

We found this white-crowned sparrow in a bramble of berries and cotoneaster. He steadily plucked and ate one wild blackberry after another.

Brown pelicans, double-crested cormorants, western gulls, sparrows and many other birds kept us entertained. We saw a few sea lions, too.

There was a hardy female Anna’s hummingbird who greeted us often, the last photo.

Originally the drive home was going to include another stretch of Highway 1 and the Point Arena Lighthouse, but the fog was so thick that morning we could barely see the road. We’ll have to come back for that.

At the end of our three-day stay, back we drove through the dripping redwoods, back through the vineyards that had lost more leaves, and inland to home.

Written by Jet Eliot.

Photos by Athena Alexander.