Dipper Ranch

Three Coyotes on a Sunny Winter Morning - Pair Bonding

2012-02-17T00:31:00.000-08:00

Male coyote in front, female coyote in back.

Three coyotes were sunning in a grassy field near Monte Bello Open Space Preserve one morning this week.

Smaller male on left, female in center, larger male on right.

Select "Read More" for photos and discussion about what the coyotes were doing. Please note - some photos and discussion of coyote anatomy follows.

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Let the Spring Begin

2012-02-13T00:09:00.000-08:00

Western leatherwood (Dirca occidentalis), a rare native California shrub, has distinct sprays of bright yellow flowers in the late winter. Notice the sharp point behind the flower. This feature often remains behind the flat tip of the branch after the flower falls and is one way to distinguish this plant from the similar osoberry (Oemleria cerasiformis).

Spring has begun almost without a winter. The local chapter of the California Native Plant Society (CNPS) has several hikes coming up that will feature the earliest of the spring wildflowers. If we don't get more rain this winter, we may have a short wildflower season, so get an early start and shake that rain stick. Select "Read more" below for info and links on these hikes.
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Coyote Storytelling Event

2012-01-18T21:50:00.000-08:00

I've been invited to lead a storytelling evening:

The Coyote Brush Highway
South Skyline Association General Meeting

Friday, January 27, 2012, 7:00 pm

Saratoga Summit Fire Station

"Mountain resident and biologist, Cindy Roessler, will tell a story and share photos about her recent encounters with a family of coyotes on the Dipper Ranch in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Coyote (aka the Trickster, the Western Songdog and many other names) inspires stories of wonder, frustration and imagination. Bring your coyote stories and let's share an evening of real tails and tall tales."

Newt Tracks

2012-01-16T10:30:00.000-08:00

Tracks at edge of Newt Pond, San Mateo Co, California, 12/29/2011
Total width 3.8 cm, width of central drag mark 3 mm
footprints 1 cm wide x 1.5 cm long
Probably a track of the coast range newt

This is the track of a tail-dragging animal leaving the Newt Pond. Snakes don't make footprints, our local lizards usually don't enter water, and anyway, it's too cold this time of year for reptiles. Since I know that coast range newts breed at this pond every winter, this is probably a newt track, but why was it leaving its breeding pond in December?

When it comes to interpreting animal sign, observe the where, when and size of the marks, and look around for other clues. By absorbing the nature of the site in addition to observing the actual marks, you can make a good guess at the behavior of the animal.
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Tooth, Nail, Beak or Bone?

2011-12-30T00:28:00.000-08:00

Katie at Nature ID and I are having a conversation about animal sign on vegetation. I'm posting these photos for her and will followup later with details. I enjoy sharing info online with other nature bloggers - it's a great way to complement our learning. More photos at "Read More"

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De-Lovely Moon

2011-12-17T23:35:00.000-08:00

Total lunar eclipse, December 10, 2011. The green ghosting is probably some type of light bouncing in the lens. Those little white dots are not specks on your monitor but stars showing up as the moon's glow is dimmed.
f/4, 4 seconds, ISO 400, 120 mm, Nikon D60, photo cropped

I spend most of my time puzzling over things on the earth's surface. I largely ignore the sky, just too much of it there. And then like a fortune cookie, the Lion Hunter called last week to say we were going to photograph the total eclipse of the moon at the Dipper Ranch. We agreed to meet early the next morning. I have been missing eclipses and sleeping through meteorite showers since 1986, so I was determined to try harder this time. Over the next 12 hours, curiosity and photography once again brought me face-to-face with intimate details of nature, even extraterrestrial nature.
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30k - Just a Number, Words and Wonder

2011-12-06T12:03:00.001-08:00

Fall morning showdown between bucks at the Newt Spring.
The wonder of it all.

In a few days, the Dipper Ranch blog will reach 30,000 hits since May 2009 (2.5 years). I actually started blogging in October 2008 but I think I didn't rig up the simple version of Google Analytics until later. I am not sure how significant 30k hits is. I know that at least one blog I follow probably gets that many hits in a day, and many things on the internet are popular but not so useful. I guess I could look into it, but I would rather spend the time researching cool season grasses.

Coyotes to the Wind

2011-12-05T18:20:00.000-08:00

Coyote running in its colorful winter coat

As summer progressed, the coyote pups were showing up less often on the wildlife cameras along The Coyote Brush Highway. They were growing and probably roaming farther and joining the adult coyotes on hunting trips. We had started a construction project on the lower end of the Dipper Ranch to remove an old road and repair landslides to improve the water quality of creeks in the Pescadero watershed. This resulted in construction equipment and contractors driving onto the property several times a day, a big change from the usual traffic-less conditions, and I wondered if this affected the coyotes' behavior. Furthermore, there had been several trespassing incidents, so I decided to move the wildlife cameras away from the gate.

Coyote Brush Highway

2011-11-27T19:10:00.000-08:00

Hot day on the Coyote Brush Highway for a coyote pup.

The game was up. With their keen noses and my sensitive skin, I didn't expect to get additional close-up glimpses of the coyote pups as I did in June. To keep track of their progress, I decided to place wildlife cameras near the brushy thicket where I frequently saw them. Not only did I suspect the coyote brush sheltered their den, but soon I learned how important the brushy structure was to many other types of wildlife.
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Stumbling Onto A Coyote Den - the incidental merits of fighting yellow starthistle

2011-11-25T22:15:00.000-08:00

Three juvenile coyotes travel past the wildlife camera on The Coyote Brush Highway.

I noticed something unusual in late June as I was mapping yellow starthistle in the upper pastures. Mapping is an important early step to controlling noxious weeds, but I was annoyed to be walking through so much of this prickly pest. In hopes of finding the waning edge of the infestation, I looked up towards the fence line and was relieved to see soft grass ahead. And something else. A small black flag was twitching above the seed heads. It was the impatient tip of a brushy tail. In a few seconds, a pair of paws came shooting out of the grass followed by a sharp nose and then a body and tail forming a furry parabolic curve. A diving coyote pup.

Vote for the 2011 Estate Walnut Label

2011-10-31T22:48:00.000-07:00

English walnuts still in their green husk.

Every year, we harvest English walnuts from the two trees behind the barn. I give many of the walnuts away under the label of Happy Snake Ranch Walnuts. Somehow, that tradition just got started and you to get vote on this year's label.

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Predators, Poaching and Suicide

2011-10-27T21:45:00.000-07:00

Predators

This is about the dark side of living in the country. When humans touch land, sometimes bad things happen and this summer three bad things happened at the Dipper Ranch: predators, poaching and suicide. I feel partially responsible for one of them. I'm talking about these bad things together to learn their lessons and then send them away.
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Look What the Fog Dropped In

2011-10-25T21:11:00.000-07:00

Prescribed burn in Big Basin State Park brings smoke and colorful sunsets.

Yesterday, thick fog came rolling through the coastside passes at 5 pm and suddenly it was an early dusk. We were disappointed because we were hoping to shoot a second night of brilliant sunset colors. This week the park staff is conducting a prescribed burn in the understory of Big Basin State Park. Although the smoke temporarily degrades the crisp fall air, it provides beneficial ecological changes to the park's redwood forest and makes for fantastic sunsets. The western horizon the night before was an hour-long show of many shades of orange, pink, red and purple.

One Part Rain, One Part Sun

2011-10-10T19:03:00.000-07:00

Southern alligator lizard (Elgaria multicarinata) sunning next to filaree seedlings.

Last week we got the first rain of the season on the central California coast, almost one inch of precipitation over three days. I was in the Sierras, so I saw it as snow. Upon my return to the Dipper Ranch, Sunday morning was bright and cool, so I took a walk to see how the rains changed the coastal hills.

As with last year, filaree seedlings were the first to pop up after 3 dry months. The tunnels and dens of the underground must have been cold and wet because I saw quite a few reptiles basking in the open.
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Animals Anticipating Autumn

2011-10-06T23:22:00.000-07:00

This time of year, there are small changes every few days. Walking around the Dipper Ranch is like a wildland version of the I-Spy game. Here are a few snapshots of the critters easing into the autumnal season.

Over a period of a few days, hundreds of swallows gather on the powerlines along Alpine Road. Then that group sets off on its next stage of migration, and another group starts collecting.

Tatting Caterpillars

2011-10-04T22:19:00.000-07:00

A lacy doily made out of petals of a cudweed

I have crafty caterpillars in my farmyard. My five sisters inherited our grandma's skill in the fabric arts, so I notice these things. My grandma used to decorate her fancy sitting room with doilies, so I was surprised to find doilies on the cudweed bush behind the Dipper Ranch barn.

Spilling out of the old pig pen, the bank on which the mysterious farmyard doilies appeared used to be a weedy jungle, a common problem around farm buildings where the soil gets enriched by animal waste. The pigs are long gone and the pen is falling down, but every year I spend a few sweaty days there pulling out manure-robust mustard and thistle plants.
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40 Feet Is Too Close on a Full Moon Night

2011-09-12T23:10:00.000-07:00

Harvest Moonrise 2011

Labor Day weekend I asked if 40 feet was far enough from the farm buildings to not worry about a rattlesnake. The answer is "NO!"

For about 2 weeks, I've been watching this large rattlesnake hang out around a vacated gopher hole in the orchard. On hot mornings, the snake exposed only one coil at the entrance of its hole. On cool and bright mornings, most of its body would be just outside the threshold soaking up the maximum amount of sun. It didn't seem to be going anywhere and I couldn't make up my mind about moving it, so I just watched instead. I talked to a local man who moves snakes for people and he suggested that perhaps it was shedding. On a large snake, it can take 2 weeks to shed its skin and part of that time, the snake will have a cloudy scale over its eyes which makes it vulnerable to predators, so the snake will often stay close to safe shelter. The first day I saw this snake, it had the typical dusty appearance of a rattlesnake, but recently its scales seemed shiny.
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What Was That?

2011-09-09T23:26:00.000-07:00

Rock wren (Salpinctes obsoletus) at the pig pen.

My current theme: "Don't be shy, go ahead and ask an expert." But do your homework first.

In August while admiring the lacy cudweed pillows behind the barn, I noticed a bird hopping in the speckled light of the pig pen. It was a plain-looking bird, just another LBJ (little brown job), except it had a distinct way of flitting from one object to the next.
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Wildflower Hotspot #5 - Bean Hollow and Pescadero State Parks

2011-09-08T23:55:00.000-07:00

Flowers, rocks and sea life at the edge of the continent.

When the hills and valleys of the Santa Cruz Mountains get summer dry and the spring wildflowers go to seed, there are still places to see local wildflowers - the cool San Mateo coast. Coastal parks stay moist with summer fog, and the spring/summer wildflower bloom is later and longer there. Because much of the San Mateo coast is undeveloped, you can visit not only the ocean and beach, but also coastal prairie and coastal bluff scrub.

Pescadero State Beach and Pescadero Marsh Natural Preserve are 15.7 miles south on Highway 1 from Half Moon Bay. On one side of the highway is the ocean, beach and sandy bluff. You can follow the winding edges of Pescadero Creek under the highway to trails along brackish and freshwater marshes, creekside forests and brushy habitat for more variety of plants and good birding. Docents with the San Mateo Coast Natural History Association lead hikes to Pescadero Marsh on the first Sunday of the month at 10 AM and the third Sunday of the month at 1 PM.
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Dear J's: Please Stay Out of Trouble

2011-09-04T23:57:00.000-07:00

Northern Pacific rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis oreganus) with frontal portion of body sticking out of hole and soaking up morning sun. Preggers?

This has not been a relaxing holiday weekend. Yesterday morning, I checked if the big rattlesnake was still hanging out in the orchard. I've been trying to decide whether I should move it or not. The crew was up here a week ago clearing dead trees and they saw it first. I usually move rattlesnakes which I find near the house and farm buildings because I don't want them to surprise me later and one of us get hurt. But this rattler was about 40 feet away from the buildings, and maybe I don't need to worry about it. It was on the big side. All the rattlers I have moved recently have been small, so my nerves are a bit jangly when it comes to a big one. Furthermore, this big one could be a female about to give birth as they do at the end of the summer of one to 25 young, none of which I want to have near my house.

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Alien Owlet Calls

2011-08-09T01:25:00.000-07:00

Moonlight bouncing off fog banks between Butano Ridge and Long Ridge.

Owlet with your silly call, some type of cross between a tweet, a whistle and a screech. When your parents patiently coach you with their hooo hooo ho-hoo ho-hoo, I can usually find them in the dark.
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Scales on My Sleeve

2011-07-02T17:12:00.000-07:00

A California mountain kingsnake in hand.

I found a California mountain kingsnake while checking the main springbox at the ranch. As the rainy season ends, we've unclogged pipes, replaced filters and sealed a leaking water tank. The spring slows down to a trickle in the summer, so its unnerving to start the dry season without a full water tank. When we found a valve mistakenly closed in our water system, I started systematically checking all the essential parts.

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Sierra Azul Open Space Preserve - Wildflower Hotspot #4

2011-05-25T23:32:00.000-07:00

Sierra Azul Open Space Preserve - Woods Trail and Barlow Road

Above the town of Los Gatos, my favorite trails in the 17,600-acre Sierra Azul Open Space Preserve are Woods Trail and Barlow Road. These connected trails are interesting and botanically diverse because together, they carve a 360-degree circle below Mt. Umunhum in open grassland, chaparral and shady forests with rocky outcrops and small headwater streams. You get to see many different types of vegetation and most wildflowers are presented to you right alongside the trail, even at eye level. There is one location along Barlow Road where I often see red larksur (Delphinium nudicaule, shown above) growing shoulder to shoulder with a deep purple larkspur.

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Moving in Straight Lines

2011-05-04T22:47:00.000-07:00

Handsome thighs of a California red-legged frog

I took a workshop last week on the California red-legged frog. The classroom portion covered biology and behavior, and the day and nighttime field portions covered habitat, life stages and pouncing on frogs under the careful guidance of the certified instructors. By 10:00 pm of the nighttime training, we were all basically returned to our childhoods. The boys were counting up how many frogs they'd captured, and the girls were wondering why they were following boys around in the woods at night. Once I took my gloves off, my frog capture rate went up to about 80%, but I preferred the spotlighting duty of being the first to detect the alien-eye-rays bouncing from the willow thicket back to our strategically aimed flashlights.

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Almaden Quicksilver County Park - Wildflower Hotspot #3

2011-05-04T00:27:00.000-07:00

Almaden Quicksilver County Park

Almaden Quicksilver County Park is located in south San Jose around the former mining town of New Almaden. Here you get a view of nature reclaiming the mined lands with several of the park entrances right out of residential neighborhoods. A dreamy afternoon can be spent reading about the wild ways of the New Almaden mining days in the first chapters of Wallace Stegner's Pulitzer Prize winning book, Angle of Repose, and then hiking further into these very same hills. Or you can just go the Almaden Quicksilver Mining Museum after your hike.

Trails wind through open stands of valley oak and blue oak trees with Chinese houses, farewell-to-spring and other colorfully-named wildflowers waving in dappled light, and California quails calling from mossy rocks and crumbled brick foundations.
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Edgewood Park and Natural Preserve - Wildflower Hotspot #2

2011-04-30T11:51:00.000-07:00

Edgewood Park and Natural Preserve, Redwood City, California

Edgewood Park and Natural Preserve balances on the edge of San Francisco's suburbs and the rugged, undeveloped mountain valley that stores water for the 2.5 million humans living along the Golden Gate and San Francisco Bay. Once it was scarred by motorcycle trails and destined to become another golf course. But a stubborn group of local botanists kept finding small, unusual plant treasures there and reversed the fate of this county park.

Edgewood Park is the most consistent and reliable place to see the spring wildflower display in the Santa Cruz Mountains and it can be easily reached from any city between San Francisco and San Jose by taking Edgewood Road east from Highway 280. Highway 280 is sometimes described as one of the most beautiful highways in the world, and in addition to the darkly forested slopes to the west often crowned by great banks of cascading fog, the bright patches of Edgewood wildflowers to the east are likewise visible from the highway each spring and subtly remind the speeding motorists that they are following the course of a major faultline between two giant sliding landforms.
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Coyote Ridge - Wildflower Hotspot #1

2011-04-27T22:56:00.000-07:00

As you travel on Highway 101 between San Jose and Morgan Hill, you may have noticed bright patches of spring color on the hills to the east - this is Coyote Ridge. Serpentine rock, part of our unique California fault-shaped geology, forms Coyote Ridge and soil high in some minerals and low in plant nutrients. Some California plants have evolved to be tolerant of these conditions.

Poor soils often make for good wildflowers. Coyote Ridge supports a colorful spring bloom of wildflowers including more than a dozen rare species. It is also one of the few remaining habitats for the threatened bay checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas editha bayensis) which is dependent on a few small native plant species for adult nectar and caterpillar forage. Increased deposition of nitrogen from the air, probably primarily from automobile exhaust, is changing the unique soil conditions that create the serpentine grasslands and is allowing European annual grasses to spread on Coyote Ridge and outcompete the colorful native color that also supports the rare butterfly.

Wildflower Hotspots of the Santa Cruz Mountains

2011-04-22T22:19:00.000-07:00

On cloudy days, some flowers stay closed.

I will be making a presentation Wildflower Hotspots of the Santa Cruz Mountains on Sunday, April 24, 2011 from 11:00 to noon at Mission College in Santa Clara, California for the 39th Annual Wildflower Show of the California Native Plant Society - Santa Clara Valley Chapter. Below is my list of 20 wildflower hotspots. Each has a link to the park website with directions, trails and other logistics.

Many generous local plant people have nominated their favorite hikes and allowed me to use their wonderful photographs which I will be sharing at the show. Over the next few weeks, I will be posting some of those photos here with more details on spring hikes, giving you tips on how to find and enjoy wildflowers and providing links to some of these great photographers. Go to the "Search This Blog" window in the middle of the right-hand column and enter "wildflowers" or "hikes" to find the updated posts about wildflower hikes. Please add your observations and check the comments for the most recent information.
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It's Sssspring

2011-04-07T22:46:00.000-07:00

Santa Cruz gartersnake cruising over yellow starthistle seedling.
This subspecies has a whitish to lemon-yellow throat.

While surveying for thistle seedlings on Friday at Monte Bello Open Space Preserve, I crossed from the Carboniferous period to the Permian period. That is, I witnessed the seasonal emergence of scaly-skinned animals with eggs that have protective shells (reptiles) while slimy-skinned animals that lay their eggs in moist environments were slipping into their summer hideaways (amphibians). Reptiles are kings of the summer, while coastal California's amphibians are more active in the winter-wet period.

Draped over a yellow starthistle seedling, I saw the first snake of the year - a Santa Cruz aquatic garter snake. Sunning on the new section of the White Oaks Trail, this was probably a young-of-the-year snake only 8" long and 1/4" wide. Aquatic garter snakes are born in late August to mid-October.

Explaining Land Management to Cows

2011-03-30T21:57:00.000-07:00

Cows: Whatcha' doing?

Me: Looking for bad guys.
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Pond Cows

2011-03-07T21:57:00.000-08:00

Cattle reflect at the Barn Pond, an ephemeral pond which appears for a few days after heavy and steady rain.
How, they wonder, do frogs and newts know not to lay eggs in this pond,
while ducks make a paddle-visit.

It's raining again and the frog chorus is very loud every night. The cattle and deer have rinsed coats although usually they are also wearing mud socks. The coast range newts are slowly leaving the ponds as evidenced by the occasional sad orange blobs on Alpine Road. I am trying to write something about newts but am stuck pondering evolution, so, sigh, while you wait, here are the answers to the puzzle in the last post.

February Scrambled Ramble

2011-02-11T09:32:00.000-08:00

Find a caption for each of the photos below by sorting out the smashed-together words at the end. All photos are plants and animals currently strutting their stuff in February on the Dipper Ranch. Click on a photo for a larger view.

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Predator in the Middle - What Happened

2011-02-05T23:56:00.000-08:00

If you saw this on a drive down a quiet country road, what would you think?

Press "Post a Comment" below to share your thoughts.

----------------------------------------------- A Followup: ---------------------------------------------

A few days ago, I invited readers to share their thoughts about the above photo. Responses here and ones I otherwise received speculated this situation was the result of humans persecuting animals, a giant shrike or other predator taking advantage of a barbed wire fence, even witchcraft (see comment section below). Let me share the specific facts as I heard them, biological facts as I've learned them, and unmask this story of predators.

That is a bobcat carcass hanging on a barbed wire fence. I did not stage that photo. It is exactly how I found it.

Coyotes Are Omnivores

2011-01-31T23:29:00.000-08:00

Rib bones still attached to the steer carcass with their surface shredded

By the three-week mark of finding the steer carcass at the Dipper Ranch, the skeletal frame is becoming exposed. All the major bones are still attached yet something is scraping their surface. I assume this is from gnawing or scratching by the coyotes since they are frequently caught by the wildlife cameras at the carcass, and their teeth and claws are more capable of shredding hard surfaces than the beaks of the other common visitors - ravens and vultures.

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Beefeaters of the Santa Cruz Mountains

2011-01-23T08:51:00.000-08:00

Two coyotes working the carcass on the night of Day 2.

After finding both canine and feline tracks around the dead steer, we decided to rig up a wildlife camera to see what predators returned. Wildlife cameras can be placed securely in the field to record wildlife activity over an extended period of time, at night, and in situations where wildlife would avoid locations or modify their behavior if a human observer was present.

On Day 2 of my dead-steer observations, I watched from the backyard with binoculars as ravens landed on the carcass and frequently flew off again throughout the morning. By high noon, the cattle were peacefully grazing in the Golf Tee pasture near the carcass so I decided it was safe to check the wildlife camera. When I opened the sheep gate to the Golf Tee, the living cattle looked up and trotted out of view.

Please note: the remainder of this blog post contains graphic descriptions and photos of a carcass and predators feeding on it. Do not select "Read More" below if you do not want to see these. If your curiosity is greater than your gag reflex, press on.
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The Bone Yard

2011-01-18T22:59:00.000-08:00

Deer skull in the Bone Yard

The ground is covered with bright green grass which germinated in the fall rains. Most days have been cool, so the new grass is still short. The Roper taught me the cattleman's 100-degree rule: if the sum of the daytime maximum temperature and the nighttime minimum temperature is more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit, then the grass keeps growing. Conversely, if the sum is less than 100, the grass stops growing. For example, last week the nighttime lows were in the 30s and the daytime highs were in the 50s, which adds up to the 80s. No prolonged freezing weather, so the grass didn't die, it just stayed short. For the next few weeks, any bones lying about the grasslands stand out in stark contrast to the bold green turf alluding to prior struggles between predator and prey.

There's a field below the house I call the Bone Yard. On the edge of a dark oak forest, it is littered with a collection of white-grey bones old enough to have been separated and scattered into what I imagine are chewing piles. Bones of a large cow, several deer and even a coyote skull suggest that this is some type of wildlife 'killing zone'.

Please note: the remainder of this blog post contains some graphic descriptions and photos of a carcass. Do not select "Read More" below if you do not want to see these. If you are interested in amateur wildlife detective challenges, press on.
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Mule Deer with Llama Ears

2010-12-30T23:29:00.000-08:00

Cattle ID

2010-12-23T22:14:00.000-08:00

Cowboy V often manages his cattle by walking and watching.

The cattle operator, Cowboy V, brought another load of cattle to the Dipper Ranch on Wednesday. For once, I was around. The sky was overcast and sometimes sprinkling, but unloading the cattle was easier than I expected, and certainly easier than rounding them up. I didn't help much, but I did ask lots of questions and took photos.

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Denning

2010-12-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

Wet, cold and dark induce dreamy illusions as a storm envelopes Long Ridge.

Denning - a personal definition - reluctance to leave the lair; the time of year when wet, dark and cold conditions cause a shift towards low metabolic activities: reading, writing, searching for thermal underwear and down comforter, mending, walnut-cracking while watching movies, sleeping, thinking about but not actually waterproofing boots, dreaming of a functional woodstove, baking, and more reading this time with a cat sitting in lap.

The season of glorious clouds has been superseded by the wet season with increasing periods of cold and darkness. Morningside, I argue with myself in the hot shower, "See you are waterproof. Get going!" Instead, I find lion faces in the fake marble patterns of the cheap shower walls and the daylight just gets shorter.

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Get Ready

2010-12-12T00:41:00.000-08:00

Rain and snow greeted newly arrived cattle in December 2009

Cowboy V called today and he'll start trucking in cattle soon. This weekend, rain or shine, we'll be closing gates. I tend to leave the interior gates open after all the cattle are gone by midsummer, so the deer and I can frolic from one pasture to the next without pause. Actually, the deer just stot over or flex under the wire fences, but they'll detour through an open gate if handy, and by staggering which gates are open, I guide the deer's sharp hooves along gentle slopes rather than carving up the steep ravines.
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Seasonal Attention Disorder

2010-11-17T23:25:00.000-08:00

Sunset 11-05-10
One day too early for the walnut harvest party

The clouds are back. I say that every year, don't I? After the summer dry season, the tinted, shape-shifting clouds highlight the huge space looming above us, and then by association, the curved earth we scratch upon.

Pretty sunrises start the day and spectacular sunsets inspire evening thoughts.
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Vote for 2010 Estate Walnut Label

2010-10-28T23:21:00.000-07:00

Every year, we harvest English walnuts from the two grand trees behind the barn. I give many of the walnuts away under the label of Happy Snake Ranch Walnuts. Last year, we made a party out of it with guests, sunsetting, an appearance by the Deer Whisperer, and I boldly claimed that these are Estate Walnuts.

With the arrival of the 2010 storms, the walnuts are dropping and it is time to decide on the snake to be featured on this year's label.

The 2010 candidates are:
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Warrior Celebrates End of Thistle Season

2010-10-25T01:35:00.000-07:00

Impalement - another hazard of thistles.
I found this honey bee speared on a yellow starthistle spine while weeding in August 2009.

Hooray, it's the end of the thistle season. I welcome the brief respite from digging, pulling and scowling at thistles. Usually the first few rains of the wet season are modest, but today's storm was big enough to pound into the ground any seedheads still clinging to the brown thistle stems. That's when I concede the battle for another year. At least until the thistle seedlings start germinating in about six weeks.

It was a long and unusually cool summer and those thistles just kept blooming. Long after the cattle left the Dipper Ranch and travelled on to the brussel sprout fields, the stockyard, or wherever their bovine destiny took them, the yellow starthistle plants kept putting out more dang-blasted, spiny blooms.
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Travels with Nightsnake

2010-10-13T17:47:00.000-07:00

California nightsnake. Ranger E has a calm way with snakes. She's observed that individual snakes often have uniquely shaped spots. With careful photodocumentation of their spots, I may be able to tell the difference between future nightsnakes.

This is the third fall season I have found a nightsnake on the Dipper Ranch. In October 2007, I had just moved onto the ranch and didn't know what a nightsnake was. Fortunately, something seemed odd about the small, brown-spotted snake in the springbox in those first few weeks, so we walked the dripping net back to the house to take photos. With frequent reference to our burgeoning natural history library, I eventually learned to tell the difference between the 4 local brown-spotted snakes: gopher snake, rattlesnake, nightsnake and juvenile yellow-bellied racer.
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Vultures & Death

2010-09-28T23:20:00.000-07:00

Vulture sculpture by Santa Cruz Mountains metalsmith, Bill Sorich

This post is about vultures and death as part of my continuing exploration of why the turkey vultures (Cathartes aura) are suddenly hanging out on the Dipper Ranch barn. In Vultures and Migration, I pretty much concluded that the local vultures of the central California coast do not migrate in the winter, so that leads me back to death.

In the last few weeks, I found part of a carcass on the road near the corral watering trough that the vultures visit every day.

That is, the vultures visit the trough every day. I never saw them on the carcass although the eyeballs were gone and the skin partially flaked off as if stripped by beaks.

[Please note: this posting includes photos of dead animals. No animals were harmed in creating of this post. Proceed at your own educational risk by pressing Read More.]

International Rock Flippin' Day

2010-09-18T17:34:00.000-07:00

International Rock Flipping Day is today (September 12). Go ahead, flip a rock, record what you observe, and send info including photos, sketches, notes, sound effects to link at end of this post. Make sure you are careful with the critters that live under rocks and put the rock back gently where you find it. Good tips at link above. I'll post whatever I find under rocks at the Dipper Ranch.

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And here is what I found. Mid-September in summer-dry California requires strategic thinking for rock flipping day.

Black Florida Vulture Adventure

2010-09-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

Black vultures fluffing their neck ruffs against Florida's amazing and constant clouds.

On Wednesday, I was driving up Page Mill Road and saw a group of turkey vultures flying high in the late summer sky. I wanted to stop and watch them but I had 40 people waiting for me to make a presentation. Durn! Don't these people have better things to do, like watch vultures fly? Obviously, I am still obsessed with TVs. Last summer, I was obsessed with deer. The natural world keeps giving me new things to discover, kinda like those constantly changing Happy Meal toys.

Vultures and Migration

2010-09-08T23:06:00.000-07:00

The horaltic pose - sitting with wings widespread - perhaps to gather the sun's warmth.

In August, the turkey vultures (Cathartes aura) continued to land on the barn every few days for short periods of time. Often I noticed them at midday, and several times it was exactly 11:00 when they circled the farmyard. One day as I leaned back to watch the vultures chase their loops directly overhead, I heard loud whooshing sounds. Whenever the vultures approached the side of the spiral closest to the barn, they tucked in their wings and suddenly raced through that part of the turn with loud wing turbulence. Coming out of the bank, they pointed skywards and slowed down to their typical dihedral and wobbly flight above the orchard. The red-tailed hawks were also circling, and the vultures would dive bomb any hawk below them on the fast side of the thermal. Eventually, the red-tails pulled out and flew to Mindego Hill to claim their own breeze.

Vultures on the Barn

2010-08-19T23:34:00.000-07:00

Turkey vultures can have a wingspan up to six feet.
Their wings usually appear two-toned from below.

One of the cats made a staccato sound on a hot day when I had all the window blinds closed. Not understanding the predator's code, I looked around. With their butts in the air, both Cole and Mango were straining to look under the living room blind.

I peered between their alert ears expecting to see a brown towhee on the windowsill or one of the spotted fawns draining the birdbath again. Nothing moving in the backyard. When I flipped open a blind slat, I startled a turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) on the garage roof directly outside the window. As it dropped behind the roof line, I caught a brief glimpse of something hanging from its beak, round with a stem hanging down. A leaf? Or perhaps a mouse. That explained the cats' complaint at seeing a scavenger steal their snack.
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The Irony of Nature Writing

2010-08-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

We experience nature outside.

We write inside.

In the presence of nature, we dwell in our senses.

Writing is about thinking.
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Cows on Vacation

2010-07-17T19:12:00.000-07:00

Summertime. Vacation. 4th of July. This 4th of July, we decided to try a new tradition - watching the fireworks from elevation 2572 feet. We hiked into Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve where we could see firework displays from 6 different locations along south San Francisco Bay: San Jose, Santa Clara, Cupertino, Mountain View, Milpitas and Foster City (I think).
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Bowling for Salamanders

2010-05-25T21:51:00.000-07:00

A small creature uncovered

In celebration of yet another week of raining, I would like to share how I discovered rock bowling. In the beginning, I wanted to start a vegetable garden but in the country you have to put up a deer fence to garden, and a deer fence requires somewhat level ground which only exists in my backyard under the buildings where plants won't grow, so I need to install a low rock wall to hold the leveled soil, and I don't want to go all suburban by buying fancy manufactured retaining wall blocks, so I have been combing the hills and dales of the Dipper Ranch for suitable garden wall rocks. I am sure others have discovered rock bowling although maybe not by such a circuitous route.

Three Fawn Sunset

2010-05-24T00:12:00.000-07:00

Field of wildflowers at Russian Ridge

Fascinating end-of-May weather. Still raining and cool on some days, bright sun with a bit of warmness on other days, and just plain cold (for us Californios) at night. I'm racing between end-of-rainy-season and beginning-of-summer projects and am about to finish a run of 14 straight work days. I squeeze in morning or afternoons off to enjoy the succulent air.
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Still Raining

2010-05-20T22:58:00.000-07:00

Rain beetle with interesting orange-red combs on its antennae.

It's still raining gobs in May which is unusual for California. I feel like I'm still in Florida with the gators and moss. I'm not complaining. To show my appreciation for this unusual supply of precipitation, I'll share some info on one of the less common rain critters before moving onto spring wildflowers.
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First Fawn

2010-05-17T23:51:00.000-07:00

I saw the first fawn this morning while washing dishes. I noticed a group of six deer browsing in dense fog above the orchard. One pair of ears barely cleared the tall grass. When those ears passed into a clear spot, a small, white-spotted body revealed itself as connected. One by one, 3 does and a yearling buck walked up to sniff the fawn and gently nudge it. If they spent more than a few seconds near the small one, another doe would charge and chase them back a short distance.
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The Colors Brown

2010-05-15T22:44:00.000-07:00

The answers to last week's quiz on whether the photo was a Northern Pacific rattlesnake or a Pacific gopher snake are below :

(click on photos for larger version or go to original Brown vs. Brown post)

Snake #1: gopher snake - sharp tail tip, glossy coloration.
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Brown vs. Brown

2010-05-09T21:36:00.000-07:00

As promised in last week's adventure with brown snakes, here is your snake quiz. See if you can tell which of the following snakes are rattlesnakes and which are gopher snakes. The photographs below are all from the Dipper Ranch of the central California coast and are therefore either Northern Pacific rattlesnake (Crotalus oreganus oreganus) or Pacific gopher snake (Pituophis catenifer catenifer). You can click on each photo to see an enlarged version.

Snake #1

Half a Century Outside

2010-05-04T22:56:00.000-07:00

Today I was visited by the stag twice. Once in the morning at my bedroom window with a wave of his velvety 2-prong antlers. Once in the evening with a flash of his white butt nobly pooping below the springbox. A coyote, the pale-faced one with paler eyes that I think of as a middle-aged dam, searched the pasture for breakfast as I drove up the drive. A pair of bluebirds landed on the barbwire fence for a morning breather while I reluctantly opened the front gate.

I don't remember the daytime business hours.
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Buzzer Gets Its Color

2010-04-30T22:14:00.000-07:00

Sunday's rattlesnake got iced. On Monday, I carried it in an ice chest with a padded ice pack for the one-half mile trek to the relocation spot. Cooling the snake lowers its metabolism and makes it less active during the release process. However, as soon as I shook this snake out of the pillowcase and immobilized it with snake tongs, it started rattling. With its head pinned to the ground, I quickly dipped its tail in green then purple ink and tossed it down the hill to its new habitat. The ink job was messy since the rattler kept shaking its tail, but the marking was done.

The purpose of marking the rattles is to determine if any of the relocated rattlesnakes are returning to the Dipper Ranch barn. The good news is that so far, none of the seven rattlesnakes I have cautiously marked and relocated from 1 to 2 miles away from the barn have returned. The bad news is that new rattlesnakes show up at the barn every year.

Later in the day while I was mowing, I saw a brown-blotched snake moving in the grass. I immediately turned off the brushcutter and stood back to observe. After confirming with absolute certainty that the snake was a harmless gopher snake, I picked it up and carried it well out of my mowing area. It had a big bulge midway down its body. I hoped it was eating the pesky gophers whose mounds make it impossible to mow with a regular lawnmower.

Seeing both snakes on the same day reminded me of the key traits I use to distinguish the potentially dangerous rattlesnake from the non-venomous gopher snake.

A rattlesnake usually has rattles at the end of its tail, but the tail is not always visible. A recently born rattlesnake will only have a button on its tail tip which does not rattle until the snake gets a second segment upon its first shedding.

A gopher snakes has a thin, pointed tail tip. When alarmed, a gopher snake may rapidly shake its tail tip that gives the impression of a rattlesnake, especially if the tail is vibrating against leaves or the ground in a way that makes a buzzing sound. A gopher snake may hiss when disturbed which also may sound like rattling.

A rattlesnake has a triangular-shaped head with the base of the head much wider than the neck.

A gopher snake has a narrower head which blends in more gradually with its neck. When alarmed, a gopher snake may flatten its head which makes it look somewhat triangular.

Rattlesnake eyes have pupils which are vertical slits. On the top of its head, a rattlesnake has many, small scales between its eyes. As a pit viper, a rattlesnake has heat sensing pits between its eyes and nostrils which its uses to locate warm-blooded prey.

A gopher snake has pupils which are round or oval. A gopher snake has a few, large scales between its eyes and does not have heat-sensing pits on its face.

Do not depend too much on body color. The same species of snake can vary greatly in color depending on age and regional differences. In general, I notice that a rattlesnake is often dusty looking whereas a gopher snake has a shiny coloration.

Are you ready to test yourself? Soon I'll post more photos for you to guess whether each is a rattler or gopher snake. [Quiz now posted at Brown vs. Brown]

WARNING: Moving a rattlesnake is risky - do not attempt to relocate or otherwise handle a rattlesnake unless you know what you are doing. I've discussed why I move rattlesnakes rather than killing or leaving them in the farmyard in The Rattlesnake Decision. See the California Herps website for links on dealing safely with rattlesnakes and more tips on distinguishing rattlesnakes from gopher snakes.

See also:

Northern Pacific rattlesnake - Crotalus oreganus oreganus
Pacific gopher snake - Pituophis catenifer catenifer

First Buzz

2010-04-25T23:33:00.000-07:00

Saw the first rattlesnake of the year on Sunday. As the air temperature crept up to 80 degrees by early afternoon, I kept telling myself, on such a fine spring day surely the snakes will be coming out. I was hoping to see the two shiny gopher snakes that usually show up first in the spring. As I went about the usual weekend ranch chores, I made sure to perambulate around the barn (aka the snake pit) every now and then to look for sunning reptiles. By the second round of barn inspections, there was a dusty head sticking out of a crack in the sliding backdoor. I couldn't see much of the body so I couldn't tell how big it was, or check the dorsal pattern for diamonds or the tail for a rattle. It had a somewhat triangular head and a dark line under the eye.

While peering at the snake from around the corner of the barn, I could see the numerous small scales between the eyes, but I couldn't remember whether it was gopher snakes or rattlesnakes that have that pattern. I snuck in the front door of the barn and quietly, nervously crept to the back door to see: long fat body, diamond pattern on the back with dark rings near the tail, and a 7-segmented rattle held sideways. Definitely a northern Pacific rattlesnake and one that had already had a few good meals after leaving its winter den.

I decided the snake's body wasn't sticking far enough out of the barn for me to easily snag it with my snake tongs, nor did I want to grab it from the inside and drag it backwards into the cluttered barn. Instead, I set out my snake-capturing tools in the yard near the barn door and went back to the usual chores with a tingle in my shoulders.

Every 20 minutes or so, I returned to the barn to check on the rattler's location. By the third time, the snake was slowly cruising along the outside edge of the barn door and every breeze was blowing the door back and forth over the long line of brown diamonds. It wasn't the best angle for maneuvering, however, since I didn't want the snake to disappear, I leaned against the swinging barn door with my shoulder and snagged its tail end with the tongs. It was a buzzer and struck at the tongs which are fortunately 3.5' long. I dropped it into the pillowcase already pinned open in the garbage can. A big shout and a little victory dance of relief. Then I twisted and rubber-banded the pillow case closed, and dropped the package into the garbage can. Thunk and a buzzzzz.

I set the garbage can in the shade, and locked down the lid. Later, when it is cool and the snake is less riled up, I will mark its rattle with calligraphy ink and relocate it far away from the farmhouse. I'll have to come up with a new color pattern to distinguish this one from the other rattlesnakes I have relocated and marked since I have already gone through my stock of 5 colors of ink. Maybe green with a black tip for this buzzer.

When I walked past the barn corner again, the lizards had reclaimed this snake-free corner of sun. I'm sure I will be a little jumpy for the next few days after this first buzz of the year.

See also:
Northern Pacific rattlesnake - Crotalus oreganus oreganus

A Pink Button (the inside story)

2010-04-13T00:53:00.000-07:00

Sky cow

To get ready for the lead paint removal on the Dipper house, I decided to move furniture out of my bedroom which is closest to where the chips tested positive for lead and also has leaky windows. Even though the contractor promised to seal the windows during sanding, I decided to move my bed and dresser into a room without windows subject to drifting lead dust, and drape the remaining furniture with washable sheets.

A bedroom slowly falling down the mountain and cracking on the way

Once the outside of the house looked freshly painted, I suddenly decided to paint my bedroom before moving the furniture back in. Of course, it was a greater undertaking than I expected. The house is slowly slipping downhill in this mountain landscape and every window and door in the bedroom had at least two cracks crossing the walls, while the window with the most fabulous view leaked during heavy storms. I am an old hand at painting, but window repair was new to me. I consulted fix-it guides and fix-it guys, went to the hardware store several times, and struggled with conflicting advice.

By my third trip to the hardware store, I was in desperate need of some courage. Fortunately, it was Johnny Cash's birthday and I sat in the parking lot for awhile listening to the man in black sing about brawling and prison and love on the radio. When I finally marched into the hardware store, I insisted the clerk lend me his utility knife so I could cut a sheet of moisture- and mildew- resistant sheetrock to fit into my car. Afterall, I told him, the other hardware store let me cut my own sheetrock (a bit of an exaggeration) and it was raining outside. Humming "I turned 21 in prison doing life without parole", I slipped a piece of purple sheetrock onto the warehouse floor and cut it in half.

In the first part of this pink button story, I talked about ranches and legends and the signs my predecessors left outside. The inside of the ranch house has its embellishments too: wagon wheel lamps, a copper tile backsplash in the kitchen, and a sliding glass door that was installed backwards and until I retrofitted it, couldn't be locked.

One item left behind inside the Dipper ranch house freaked me out. A few days after first moving in, I poked my head into the attic through the overhead hatch door in the hallway between the bedrooms. Looking around, I saw that insulation had been added to the unfinished floor, but otherwise the space was mostly empty. Next to the hatch opening was a heavy but loose beam. It had a rope tied around it. I tugged on the rope and a hangman's knot flipped up. I realized the beam was long enough to span the hatch opening. I must have uttered a strange noise at this discovery because my son poked his head into the hall. He too was freaked out when he saw what I was holding at the top of the ladder. I shoved the rope and beam back into the attic, closed it up and tried to forget about it. One can't hang oneself in a hallway I told myself; there were some strange tenants that lived here after Paul and Lola and it must have been a prank I told my son.

A few days later, a co-worker came by to check the wiring in the house for installation of a washing machine. The house apparently never had a washing machine, although I found an old agitating wash tub with a wringer in the garage. Since there isn't any plumbing in the garage, I assume Lola started wash day by wheeling the tub out to the hose, the one near the kitchen door pink amaryllis. I was hoping for a more modern setup, but every time the handyman opened a fuse box or electrical outlet, he groaned at the unorthodox wiring. Finally, I told him to zip it all back up and we would have to bring in an electrician.

To mollify his disappointment at not figuring out this old house, I asked if he could help me remove something from the attic. He thought I was talking about a dead animal. Nope just a rope, I told him. He held the ladder while I went back into the attic and removed the loose beam and rope. I mostly needed his moral support to face my imagined stories about this odd artifact. While we both joked that a hangman's knot was not quite as bad as a dead raccoon, I untied the rope, commented that it looked brand new and never used, and stashed beam and rope in separate locations in the garage for future use on more practical projects.

I was surprised at how smoothly the replacement of the mushy window jamb in my bedroom went once I got the purple sheetrock. To counteract the lingering effect of the attic rope and to thank a legend for his encouragement, I decided to glue a photo of Johnny Cash to the inside of the jamb before sealing it down. Someday, some other resident may find that photo, and may wonder about their strange predecessor, however, this artifact should provide humorous rather than morose musings.

Thank ya' Johnny

In addition to the climbing rose on the garage wall, there are 8 other rose bushes around the house. In April, when the does are bedded down with their new fawns, these poor bushes recover enough from the usual deer browsing that a few of the plants even get a chance to bloom. They are all shades of pink. One might guess that pink was Lola's favorite color. Or, maybe Paul thought that pink was Lola's favorite color and so every birthday and anniversary, she would graciously accept another pink flowering plant.

The sky room

I painted the bedroom sky blue. The view looks out the backyard, down a slope towards a pasture and across a heavily forested canyon. You feel like you are in the sky when you walk into the room. One day while I was painting, I realized there was a cow in the backyard. They aren't supposed to be there but since it was only one cow, I let him mow my yard while I was stuck inside patching and sanding and painting.

A white-washed ranch house

When the painters finished the outside, I walked around for a final inspection. There were a few bugs stuck in the paint which is to be expected at this hilltop location in the country. I was a bit annoyed that the painters had borrowed rocks from the garden pile, perhaps to anchor down the visqueen enclosure, and had neglected to put my rocks back. But overall, the old ranch house looks quite good. While walking around to pick up my rocks, I found a pink button on the ground by the kitchen door. It wasn't my button, I don't wear pink. I don't think the pink button belonged to the painters either, especially since they wore coveralls while they worked. If you do laundry outside with an agitating tub and a wringer, you've got to expect to lose a few buttons. Perhaps pink really was Lola's favorite color.

Watching a storm arrive from the sky room

Legends, we like to listen to them, we like to create them. Adaptation is an important survival skill for ranch living, not only to the challenging physical environment, but also to the changing cultural community. We can borrow from the good parts of our history, and set aside the useless or harmful parts. Perhaps listening to and making up legends helps us process our history and adapt to the change that is frequently occurring around us. I think I will tack that pink button up on the freshly painted garage wall where the chicken door used to be.

This legend hangs on a thread

A Pink Button

2010-04-11T12:57:00.000-07:00

This old ranch house - not quite John-Deere green

This old ranch house got painted. For a long time, the south and west exterior walls - the storm sides - had as much gray wood exposed as grimy white paint. Some of the paint tested as lead, so the job got complicated. We decided to move out of the house for a few days during the lead paint removal. For 3 months, the family's bags and the pet crates were packed and unpacked as we waited for a few dry, windless days so the contractor could construct a temporary visqueen bubble, scrape off the remaining lead flakes, and cart them away. Finally, in the middle of the rainy season, four projected dry days held and suddenly the job was done.

The contractor asked what color paint I preferred. Well, the same colors, of course - white with dark green trim. You can't change the colors of an old ranch house.

The squirrel thermometer smiles even when covered with grit on a 99-degree day.

To prepare for the painting, I took down decades of miscellaneous embellishments that had been tacked onto the walls and eaves. The garage had a half-door contraption nailed to its exterior which at one time swung over the bottom half of the side entry. Someone suggested it might have been used to keep chickens in the garage. I pulled off its sagging green boards and corroded hinges, as well as two thermometers, an eagle-topped flagpole rusted and blown flat against the roof, and pulleys for some type of hanging screen long since rotted away from the porch. Each week I worked out my annoyance over the rain delays by walking around the buildings with pry bar in hand and pulling off more random boards, nails and hooks all the while wondering who put them there and why.

Three rose bushes had tree-size trunks next to the garage.

A few years ago, a messy jungle and piles of debris surrounded the farm buildings from come-and-go tenant neglect. We've been gradually cleaning it up. To allow access for the painters, we needed to tackle more of the straggly plants. I dug up and got rid of a rangy shrub next to the house to meet the defensible space requirements (clearing flammable vegetation near rural structures to reduce the potential for damage in the event of a wildfire), but I hesitated when taking my loppers after the pink rambling rose on the garage and decided to just trim it back instead. As I pulled the tangled and decrepit vines from the wall, I discovered the live brambles were sprouting from woody stumps over a foot in diameter. These modest-looking rose vines are actually very old plants. I found myself trying to picture who planted them. Could I restore them to their former glory and still follow modern-day recommendations to reduce wildfire risk?

Gigantic mass of amaryllis bulbs and roots crowding the busy backdoor.

Next to the kitchen door was an amaryllis plant - the showy Hippeastrum type which are often sold as large bulbs in foil-covered pots. Hybrids of South American origin, they are usually forced to provide colorful indoor blooms in the midst of dreary winter. At the Dipper door, this plant gets its pink trumpet blossoms in the summer, although its weather-beaten leaves never seemed to acclimate to this corner of the house. When reaching for the hose or scrub brushes, I frequently worried I might rouse a snake hiding in its messy leaves. I decided to transplant the amaryllis to get it out of the way of the painting and away from my backdoor cleaning center. When I went to dig it out, I uncovered such a massive clump of roots and bulbs, I couldn't lift it out of the ground without first sawing it into smaller pieces. Obviously, this plant had had a long residence next to the kitchen door and I wondered if I was crudely chopping into the legacy of a long ago birthday, anniversary or Easter present. I found a sheltered spot for the amaryllis transplants in the front yard between two other old-time landscape plants, red-hot poker plants and a bed of narcissus.

The kitchen-door amaryllis bulbs sprouting at their new spot in the old yard.

Incidentally, there is another plant known as amaryllis and also pink-flowering that joins the old-fashioned landscaping at the Dipper Ranch. A wide band of Amaryllis belladona covers the long bank between the front yard and the orchard. This African plant is commonly called Naked Ladies because months after its straplike leaves die back in the summer, bare stalks rise up like long lipstick tubes and explode with pink flowers. I never liked the common name of this plant and used to consider it gaudy. I grudgingly appreciate that it is deer- and gopher-proof, and keeps out the thistles on the hardest part of the slope to mow. One day while rereading the oral interviews with Paul and Lola Ortega, the original ranch caretakers that lived in this house, I noticed they mentioned pretty pink plants in their yard and bragged about collecting them from the former location of a hotel and stage coach stop on Page Mill Road, the stage coach road that used to cross the Dipper Ranch. Now, I'm starting to like the Pink Ladies, as I prefer to call them, since they are the legendary booty of a stage coach heist, recycled and very practical in these rough surroundings.

Thick bed of Pink Ladies with their skirts protecting the edge of the orchard

I've heard talk about historical landscapes or historical landscaping. Places that were planted around buildings long ago and became part of the historical culture. Some people think it is important to save and cultivate these historical landscapes along with the historical buildings to preserve the entire sense of place. I don't pretend that the Dipper Ranch buildings have much historical significance, still I feel some responsibility to learn about and maintain the ranch's history where it is feasible and consistent with the new purpose of the ranch as an open space preserve. It is my version of thinking historically and acting locally.

The National Park Service defines historic vernacular landscape as " a landscape that evolved through use by the people whose activities or occupancy shaped it . . . the landscape reflects the physical, biological, and cultural character of everyday lives." Estates of wealthy individuals and institutions may have fancy gardens and lawns, but the humble folk tend to create functional plantings to support their family such as orchards or vegetable gardens, or simple plantings that record a moment in their lives.

I recently found an interesting article by an architecture professor at the University of Colorado - Denver. In Preserving Ranches: Not Only Possible, but Imperative, Ekaterini Vlahos ( I admit it, I found this an unusual name for someone researching history of the western US), talks about how "Traditional ranches are places where struggle and adaptation have etched themselves into the ground, weaving together culture, land, buildings, homes and lives." She describes western ranches as places where people have needed to adapt to the oftentimes harsh environmental conditions, conserving their man-made and environmental resources, and often depending on the surrounding community and a local ranching economy to make it more than one generation. In current times, as advocacy groups, recreation-based governmental agencies, and private buyers acquire traditional ranches, these new forms of ownerships often separate the ranch buildings from the land and the ranching culture. Although I did not personally witness the transition, this discussion makes my head spin when I think about how much rural San Mateo County and its ranching history have changed over the past 60 years as the suburbs of San Francisco and Silicon Valley have expanded.

I spend most of my professional day as an ecologist trying to erase the destructive hand of man on the land - taking out erosion-prone logging roads, eliminating invasive species, and planting oaks and native grasses. Living amongst the ghosts of the Dipper Ranch, I now sometimes get confused. Furthermore, I think we have a tendency to wonder and make up tales about the people who lived on the land before us and we like to make legends out of them, sometimes quite exaggerated. I am not sure why we do that. And when and how do the new legends get started? These are thoughts that followed me as I prepared for the ranch house painting, indeed, every time I repair, remove or alter the Dipper Ranch ground.

A Pink Button . . . to be continued

The Roessler-Rients farmstead. In rural Minnesota, this farm has gradually changed in three generations. I spent most summers of my childhood on this farm with my thrifty grandparents.

Lion About

2010-02-23T21:20:00.000-08:00

3 legs and a tail

I saw my first mountain lion in the wild on a recent Saturday. I was home getting the house ready for painting and the phone rang about noon. It was one of the supervising rangers. A mountain lion had been reported in a tree in one of the preserves. We quickly exchanged facts. Rangers were on the way to confirm the sighting and determine a response. I reported the gut pile I found in the creek at the same preserve the day before, probably from a mountain lion kill of a deer. I agreed to meet the rangers at the preserve in 20 minutes to evaluate the situation. An advantage of living on the Dipper Ranch, the backside of one of the open space preserves, is even during off-hours the rangers can easily reach me and I can get to most of the preserves in a short period of time.

I leaned over and turned on my dispatch radio and then flew about the house grabbing my field notebook and pack. By the time I headed out the door, I heard the call come over the radio, "Animal located in tree above trail." The rangers' voices were low and their words were clipped. I thought, "This is the real thing." We get many reports of mountain lions that turn out to be bobcats, coyotes, foxes or house cats. Even when they are correctly identified, mountain lions quickly slip away in the presence of humans like tawny ghosts. Every few months, I see evidence that mountain lions live in the Santa Cruz Mountains (deer kills, tracks, large scat with scrape marks), yet they are so secretive, I had never actually seen a mountain lion roaming these hills. My hands were shaking as I unlocked the Dipper Ranch gate and I reminded myself to slow down and drive carefully on these winding country roads with weekend cyclists and beach-bound traffic.

When I got to the parking lot, I radio-ed in for permission to enter the preserve. I passed one ranger moving people out of the preserve, and he pointed me in the right direction with a few words. I knew the trail well and had just been there the day before. I turned down the volume on my radio and strained to catch sight of the rangers while keeping my steps controlled, searching the forest up and down, and calming my breath. Through the trees, I finally spotted the reflective "Ranger" tag across someone's jacket. I cleared my throat to let them know I was there and they pointed.

The day before, we discovered intestines in the creek.

Forty feet up a black oak tree, 4 large furry legs dangled to each side of a deciduous branch. Make that 3 legs and one long, fat tail. The lion was resting in speckled light with its head away from us. We could detect some slight movements of its head, but mostly, it seemed to be sleeping. We were speaking in low voices and I was fumbling between binoculars and camera. I quickly realized the nap tree was near the gut pile I had seen the day before, and it was likely the lion could see its deer carcass from its high perch. Lions usually pull the guts out of a deer and set them neatly aside before feasting on the carcass. The gut pile I had seen in a creek had probably washed down in recent rains from a deer carcass further uphill. Lions often feed on a kill, then partially bury or otherwise hide the remaining carcass for subsequent feeding over the next few days. They may stay in the area of the kill. This lion seemed to be sleeping off a meal in view of its stash, and was likely to stay in the area for a while.

Big animal napping camouflaged in tree.

We decided to continue getting all visitors out of the preserve and close it until the lion was done resting so close to a popular trail. The supervising ranger was on the radio directing other rangers to clear all trails and post warning signs. He contacted dispatch to notify adjacent park managers and communicate with the California Department of Fish and Game. Everything was going very smoothly even though we were simultaneously thrilled to see a nonthreatening mountain lion and concerned to avoid any type of human-lion conflict.

Eventually, the lion lazily raised its head and looked over its shoulder at us. It didn't seem very concerned about the small group of people way below it, watched for a few moments and then turned and rested its head pointed in the other direction. We could see its ears still on alert but the rest of the body remained relaxed. Nevertheless, we pulled out of the area to give it more room and to allow us to talk freely.

Telephoto lens - we were NOT that close.

We work with the California Department of Fish and Game to keep people safe in the outdoors but also protect the wildlife. This mountain lion was not acting aggressively towards people and was exhibiting normal behavior for a large predator (eat, sleep). In this case, because the lion was likely to stay near the assumed carcass, and that happened to be close to a busy trail, it was best to get the people out of the way to avoid any conflict. As one of the state wildlife managers frequently tells me, it is easier to talk to people than to wildlife. We decided to leave the preserve closed for the rest of the day. We would check it early the next morning, and if there were any signs of the lion or the carcass near the trail, we would keep the preserve closed. We made sure that we were following the steps outlined in our animal response protocol, had informed all relevant parties, and were clear on our assignments.

A night hike at the Driscoll ponds

Excited and relieved, I left the preserve to escort a night hike into a new preserve. That hike was about little things, frogs and newts, and it was a beautiful evening to be outside. Still, the outdoors had an edge to it after seeing a mountain lion casually occupy its territory.

The next morning, we assembled in the preserve parking lot again. A neighbor 1.5 miles away had seen a mountain lion cross through their yard near dawn. This neighbor was very familiar with wildlife and had previously seen lions, so we were confident this was an accurate report. We did not know if this was the same lion we had seen in the tree, or the other half of a pair of lions that had been irregularly reported in the general area over the past few weeks.

Alert deer at the preserve the next morning

We checked the nap tree and the lion was gone. As a group, we slowly checked all nearby trails, peering through underbrush and looking up more frequently than we are accustomed. With no signs of the lion or a carcass, we reopened the preserve later in the morning with notices posted at all trailheads that a mountain lion had recently been observed in the preserve.

I went to the field office to document the sightings and made a round of phone calls. I was fortunate to reach the person who originally reported the lion on Saturday. He had been hiking with his 5-year old son when they looked up to see what the ravens were screaming about. Without the ravens' ruckus as they harassed and scolded the lion-in-a-tree, the hikers would have never noticed the lion. The lion was lazily waving a tail or paw towards the ravens but seemed mostly intent on napping. Although intrigued, the hiker headed back to the parking lot with his son close to him. He passed and warned another pair of visitors and then called the emergency contact number posted in the parking lot. He clearly described the sighting to the dispatcher so that the rangers readily found the same location when they arrived a short time later.

I complimented the observer as he had responsibly and safely responded to the situation and quickly reported it. We discussed his son's reaction - he was excited to report his hiking adventure to his kindergarten friends. I reviewed mountain lion safety tips with them and asked that they share these with his buddies. I also directed them to the Keep Me Wild section of Fish and Game's website that gives tips on how to interact with wildlife safely and respectfully.

While I was writing up that report, the rangers called me on the radio about a mountain lion sighting at another preserve near Horseshoe Lake and in the vicinity of the dawn report. The reporting party was in the parking lot. I asked them to wait and drove 5 minutes down the road. The reporting party described seeing a cat cross a clearing between a restored oak forest and the lake, so we took a walk in that direction. She had entered the preserve a few hours earlier to observe birds for the Audubon Great Backyard Bird Count, and had noticed the bright yellow notice at the trailhead about a recent mountain lion sighting in the area. Shortly after starting her hike, she spotted a brown, long-legged cat and in her binoculars watched it saunter towards the trees. She did not see the tail but thought it was just the angle of her view. Curious, she originally hiked in the direction of the cat, but as she got into the heavy trees, she became nervous and walked around the lake in the other direction.

Over the next hour, she recorded the birds she saw in her field notebook, but did not see any further signs of the cat. When she got back to the parking lot she saw a ranger and reported her sighting. When I arrived, I listened carefully to her description, reviewed safety precautions and thanked her. As with many reports, it was impossible to tell whether she had actually seen a mountain lion or not, but we keep records because it is often the pattern of multiple reports that best reveals behavior of these furtive animals.

As she got into her car, I remembered I had photos of the dangling lion on my camera. I showed them to her hoping to elicit a response on the lion's appearance compared to her observation. She was astonished by the size of the tail in the photograph, but seemed ready to go home after her morning adventures. After she left, I wrote up a few notes and then slowly headed out of the preserve when suddenly I saw movement at the location she originally reported the cat. I immediately stopped the car and pulled out my binoculars. No question, it was a bobcat - short 3" tail, stripes and spots on its underside and the inside of its long legs, fur flaring out in the cheek area, and the typical slow, saucy walk of a 'bob'.

Over the next few days, we continued to get reports of mountain lions. This is typical whenever we post signs regarding mountain lion sightings or when the local media covers a mountain lion story. Although some of the reports were reliable (large-sized cat tracks, certain descriptions), based on our previous experience, many others were probably cases of excited misidentification. Nevertheless, we listen carefully, ask clarifying questions and keep records. As long as the sighting is brief and the animal's behavior is nonaggressive towards humans, it's a fact of interest but does not require any action.

The presence of mountain lions in the proximity of humans tends to be controversial. I've waited over a week to write about this event to give me time to think. I was excited to see the lion myself. Everyone we talked to about the event was excited too. Probably because we had photos and had witnessed a mountain lion doing mountain lion things in its own habitat. A habitat we try to share respectfully with local critters. Most of the time we only hear the predator/human conflict stories, sometimes exaggerated. It's great to have examples of lions living their lives in ways that don't threaten or upset humans.

So I decided to share this simple story of a local lion lying about. So you can be hopeful. Also, so I can share these important tips:

Do NOT run from a mountain lion. Running could trigger an attack response from a mountain lion. Stand tall, raise your hands above your head, throw rocks or sticks, and shout.

In the very unlikely event you are attacked by a mountain lion, FIGHT BACK. People have survived by punching, scratching or kicking an attacking lion. My favorite story is a biologist who was writing in her field notebook when she was attacked. She stabbed the lion in the face with her wimpy pen and it left. Lions are stealth predators. They creep up on a deer, suddenly pounce on it and between the force of their leap and their accurately placed canines severing the spine, their prey usually collapses and quickly dies. They don't expect a fight and will often leave if there is any struggle.

Mountain lion attacks on humans are rare. There have been no documented attacks of mountain lions on humans in the Santa Cruz Mountains since 1909. There have been 16 verified mountain lion attacks on humans in California since 1890, six of them fatal.

If Dr. Grace Augustine, the biologist in the movie Avatar, had been carrying a field notebook and writing implement, maybe her fate would have been different.

Under Cover of Rain

2010-02-12T22:12:00.000-08:00

I worked outside in a light drizzle most of the day. It's been raining every few days so I keep rotating between raincoats, and with my amazing boot dryer, I start each morning with toasty toes. Today, I even switched hats midday to keep my noggin dry and warm. If you dress right and there is no wind, it's pleasant and personal to travel among the mossy trees in the rain.

The saturated soil is slipping and clumping down in little piles at the bottom of hillsides and roadcuts. On Sunday, we heard a gurgling noise from above the barn. Fearing the start of a landslide, I walked up the hill to find water bubbling out of the slope. On further inspection, I realized the rains had activated a hidden spring and water was running down an old set of buried pipes to the orchard. It formed a musical fountain where it escaped a rusty section. Trees usually found on dry terrain, are reflected in unexpected mini-ponds at their bases. The earthworms leave their flooded holes and commute down wet trails.

While crossing a small creek, I realized the large swollen worm in a pool was actually a washed and tangled intestine. Seems that a mountain lion must have been feeding upstream. Mountain lions usually pull the guts out of their prey and set them in a neat pile alongside the carcass before they feed on the remaining flesh. In this dense forest, the carcass could be anywhere on the sodden slopes and the guts must have rolled into the stream.

During a brief break in today's rain, the robins puffed themselves up on bush tops and the raptors took short patrols. The deer and rabbits were out browsing midday on the forest edge as if it was dusk. A coyote came out to yap on the top of a hill where he could get a nice echo.

Under the cover of rain, we get the chance to move among the wildlife as if it is night and we are hidden. Maybe we are camouflaged by our muddy clothes. Maybe wildlife have no fear of humans who wander outside in the rain.

Call of the Ponds

2010-02-02T19:02:00.000-08:00

In the frenzy of breeding, some amphibians get confused.

The frogs, toads and newts are heading to the ponds and creeks for their annual breeding. With all the rain we've been getting, these are happy herps. Now is a good time to visit ponds and creeks to witness this seasonal event.

The skewed distribution of rain in California means that some ponds and creeks are wet only in the winter and spring months. If there is rain. As a result, many California amphibians only visit the wet areas for a short period during their hectic breeding season and that is the time you are most likely to see and hear them. Not only is the water a window into their reproductive rituals, but in their frenzy to complete their duties before the rain ends, they seem less sensitive to human curiosity.

A male aquatic-phase newt shows off his black nuptial toes.

The male amphibians usually splash down first and undergo some type of physical transformation to prepare for their upcoming adventures. Male California newts develop smooth skin, swollen limbs and streamlined tails for navigating to their sweethearts in water. They get rough, black tips on their toes, called nuptial pads, to grip the female during mating.

Small in size, the male treefrog pumps a bellow below his chin so that his call can be heard from long distances by female frogs (and people too).

From every pond, creek, ditch, cattle trough and puddle at the Dipper Ranch right now, comes the chorus of male treefrogs. Their two-note (kreek-ik) call, which advertises their fitness for breeding to the female treefrogs, is mostly heard on warm nights, but also on rainy or overcast days. At the height of the breeding season, the treefrogs can't seem to resist calling even during a sunny day. The treefrog chorus will suddenly fall silent as you approach a pond's edge, but soon one frog will start trilling, and not to be outcompeted, the others will quickly join in.

Treefrogs in amplexus. As the female (bottom) releases eggs, the male releases sperm for external fertilization.

Newts in amplexus. Sometimes extra males join in.

Fertilization of eggs is facilitated by amplexus, wherein the male embraces the female from above or behind. In the newts, amplexus occurs as the pair swims slowly and gracefully together around the pond. Surely, this is one of the most peaceful rites of springs to be witnessed at the edge of a pond.

A female newt grasps pond vegetation as an egg mass emerges between her rear legs. Another newt egg mass floats in the water below her belly.

Eggs of each of the amphibian species can be distinguished by their different shapes and sizes. See links below for photos and descriptions. It's worth returning to the ponds and creeks in the next few weeks to witness the hatching of tadpoles and larvae and their transformation into tiny land-hardy frogs and newts.

So gather the family and go visit a pond or stream. Walk right up to the edge of the pond or into shallow waters and squat down to watch the aquatic play. Some activities you might try during your pond-gazing visits:

Can you name the different types of frogs, toads and newts?
Do you hear different frog calls?
Can you see the difference between the males and the females?
Can you see different types of eggs?
What are the amphibians eating in the pond?

For clues, see the links below for more information and photos.

Peering at you peering at him.

Names of amphibians mentioned in this posting:

Sierran treefrog, Pseudacris sierra - formerly called Pacific Treefrog, Pacific chorus frog, Hyla regilla or Pseudacris regilla.
California toad - Bufo boreas halophilus
California red-legged frog, Rana draytonii
Coast range newt, Taricha torosa torosa

Oddities at Año Nuevo - Part 2, The Beach

2010-01-29T20:04:00.000-08:00

All the rocks on the beach were framed by black halos and parentheses.

Last time, I talked about the freaky poison oak shrubs at Año Nuevo State Park on the lovely San Mateo coast of central California. On the beach end of the park, there are interesting sights to catch your eye besides the monstrous elephant seals fighting, mating and raising young.

Recent storms washed fine black material out of this dark vein in the coastal bluff and dragged it out to sea. Some grains were caught in eddies around the rocks and settled onto the beach. The dark material is probably peat deposited hundreds to thousands of years ago which keeps getting resorted by coastal uplifting, wave erosion and shifted by the many faults in the area including the Frijoles Fault.

When I visited earlier this month, a freshwater reservoir near the beach end of the Año Nuevo Point Trail was full of gulls rinsing off saltwater. While lounging on the beach, we noticed some peculiar behavior of the gulls leaving the pond after their daily bath.

They would fly off the pond's surface, then bank up over the coastal bluffs and stall in the air to vigorously shake their feathers. For a split in-air second, they would shake their wing and tail feathers so hard, they were ruffled, flying balls. As they soared over the beach, their feathers would fall back into place.

Gull after ocean-going gull would momentarily spasm. Once you notice, it's quite hilarious.

While the tourists plodded up and down the beach (some wore pointed heels in the sand) to gape at the enormous elephant seal bulls, we botanists snickered at the butt-wiggling gulls.

An associate, who used to catch, measure and tag gulls for research on San Francisco Bay, told me that the gulls would do the same shake dance whenever the scientists released them. Per Año's other oddity, my co-hikers reported seeing crested poison oak bushes at various other natural spots. So why was Año Nuevo the first place I have seen these two oddities after 20 years of hiking California's wildlands?

Possibly, the unique light reflecting off the ocean surface and gleaming through the coastal fog reveals features that are otherwise not noticeable. Or, it could be that nature is so incredibly complex and detailed that at any time and any outdoor place, you are likely to make new discoveries. I think Año Nuevo is one of those magical places where the quality of the air and pleasant laughter of your companions stimulates the mind to divine the unusual in familiar surroundings.

Go outside, play, tell me a story.

See Also:
Geology of Point Año Nuevo State Park, Gerald E. Weber.

Oddities at Año Nuevo - Part 1, Strange Poison

2010-01-27T21:42:00.000-08:00

A male elephant seal snoozing on the beach.
His chest has scratch marks from fighting with other males.

Año Nuevo State Park on the beautiful San Mateo coast of California is famous for beachside viewing of elephant seals and whale watching. Año Nuevo State Park is also the location of a former Ohlone village where archaeologists, tribal members and ecologists are researching ancient fire and land management practices of native peoples. See the California State Parks website for more info about these popular activities.

I would like to report on something else, two natural oddities that surprised me on a recent visit to Año Nuevo State Park: poison oak mutations and butt-wiggling seagulls.
Read more »

256 Newts

2010-01-17T19:37:00.000-08:00

How many newts?

Last night, a night misting in anticipation of a storm, we undertook the first-of-the-year frog surveys. We visited all four Dipper Ranch ponds from 8 pm to midnight walking about 1.5 miles downhill and then the same route back again. The fog kept all surfaces wet without totally blocking the moonless night sky and the temperatures were in the low 40's. Good conditions for amphibians.

As we walked out of the house, we could hear a treefrog chorus in the distance. I had heard occasional treefrog calls for the last month, but this was the first night of the rainy season that we could hear multiple frogs sing together. When we passed through the gate around the farmyard, we heard several treefrogs echoing off the metal sides of the cattle trough in the nearby corral.

Sneaking out of the pond on a Saturday night.

The Woods Pond had shallow water, a small amount of water draining through the outfall, and we did not see or hear any treefrogs or see any newts. That changed once we climbed the berm around the nearby Newt Pond. The Newt Pond was a few inches deep and no water was inflowing through the rusty pipe from the uphill spring. We saw 12 coast range newts wandering around the grass at the edge of the pond. Many of them were swollen with slick skin and razor edges to their tails indicating they had already spent time in the water. One of the land-based newts was eating an earthworm, while 6 newts were swimming about the cloudy pond. One treefrog was sitting quietly on the grass about 15 feet from the edge of the pond.

After they have been in the water, the skin on the back of male coast range newts changes from a bumpy, dark surface to a smooth bright orange.

As we climbed the slope above the Newt Pond, passed its feeder spring and walked out into the upper meadow, we saw 27 newts rambling about. We started to get excited. The newts were wandering in many different directions, sometimes alone and sometimes following another's tail.

Newts can travel long distances to breeding ponds and streams, often tumbling down steep slopes and creeping under and crawling over barriers like this pipe.

Between the gate separating Pasture 3 from Pasture 1 and Mustangs Rock, there were 65 newts on and alongside the road. They didn't seem to mind our close inspection via headlamps and usually continued about their business. Still 1/2 mile from the nearest pond and perhaps a quarter mile from ephemeral drainages, we continued to see the earth crawl with 54 more newts as we ventured downhill to the Monotti Pond (formerly called the Plum Pond).

We were not the only creatures wandering in the misty night, as nearly 100 yellow dots shined back at our headlamps. Although I claimed they were aliens, my ranch-raised companion was not fooled. The cattle were curious to see humans walking about at night and did not clear the ranch road until we were within a dozen feet of them. Then they followed us at a distance down to the Monotti Pond as we passed 13 newts and the treefrog chorus swelled.

How the male Sierran treefrog makes such a loud sound to call in the female frogs.

The Monotti Pond had no outflow, but treefrogs were loudly calling from the cattail stand. The treefrog chorus would stop temporarily whenever we talked or we or the cattle moved, but soon one frog would call and then, not to be left behind in courting the females, others would join in, and the din would start all over again. Within a few minutes, the frogs became accustomed to our presence so that I could walk around the pond without stilling their bellows and I counted 4 newts on land near the pond and 20 newts swimming about the shallow water. We decided not to count the frogs as they were harder to see than to hear.

We usually see newts in ponds where we witness their aquatic breeding. On rainy nights, their amphibian nature allows them to leave the pond and hunt for terrestrial invertebrates.

With our ears ringing, we headed towards the Mallard Pond. Of the 47 newts we passed on the way, many were eating earthworms and one swallowed a pill bug before our very eyes. The Mallard Pond was eerily silent with 5 newts on the land and 3 in the water. The Mallard Pond is surrounded by forest, so perhaps it takes longer for the amphibians to seek it out than the Monotti Pond which is completely surround by grassy slopes.

With feet braced, this newt tugs a resistant earthworm out of its hole.

On the return trip, we saw plenty of newts but did not count them. We realized that the newts which were still with their heads tilted or pointed, were probably hunting since many of them were peering under leaves or down holes. Once a newt got one end of the worm between its jaws, it would intermittently lunge forward and gulp down another section of the struggling worm. Newts have small teeth, thus they were not severing the earthworms, just slowly swallowing them whole. This explains why some newts were dragging big bellies as they slipped back into the pond.

Midnight greeting party - the California toad

When we finally reached the farmyard, a large California toad greeted us in front of the barn. We did not see or hear any red-legged frogs all night. We will keep surveying the ponds and hope to catch the earliest arrival of these big frogs, and record the earliest dates of frog and newt mating and egg laying. 256 newts in a night (64 newts an hour) has altered my perception of the night life around here.

As the night falls, poisonous orange predators emerge from ponds or their dens
and hunt down the slimy & wicked.

See also:
Coast range newt, Taricha torosa torosa
Sierran treefrog, Pseudacris sierra (formerly called Pacific treefrog, Pacific chorus frog, Hyla regilla or Pseudacris regilla)
California toad, Bufo boreas halophilus

Cattle Fishing - Day 2

2009-12-26T21:54:00.000-08:00

Steer on a line

Wednesday morning started with Hawkeye Cindy washing another load of dishes. When a group of black cattle moved across my kitchen view, I knew the dogies were out for their morning perambulation. I headed outside to check if the red steer who got tangled in telephone line the day before was watering in the corral.

There were 3 red steers in the corral, but none were dragging black line. One could have been yesterday's rambunctious steer-on-a-line who had somehow gained his freedom overnight. I couldn't tell. I could hear more cattle coming down the road, so I kept rechecking the corral as the dishrack filled up.

Vince, the cattle operator, arrived with his ATV and Zip the cowdog. Off they went in search of the tangled steer while I had my hands full doing laundry and creating more laundry by digging holes for a deer fence in the backyard. Eventually, I realized Reed could do a better job lining up the post holes if I wasn't constantly changing my mind about the fence location, so I strapped on my backpack and went to see how Vince was doing at cow fishing.

In the forest above the Menotti Barn

I found Vince turning the ATV around in Pasture 1. He said the tangled red steer and a few black steers had disappeared into a forest above the Menotti barn. I like this particular forest because the Octopus Tree lives there. I headed into the forest to find the cattle. At first, I was not sure whether I was following a deer or cow trail until I found a juicy cow patty. Cattle have loose bowels when they've been running. I spotted a black tail swishing among the tree trunks. Quietly, I crept further downhill and saw 1 red and 3 black steers. I yanked my binoculars around, and sure enough, the red steer was draped in black line.

The Octopus Tree must have fallen long ago
and now has 5 large trunks emerging around central spokes

I wasn't feeling confident about how to flush the cattle out of a forest, so I snuck out to an open area where Vince could see me. I climbed a weedy island in the middle of the dried-out Donut Pond and hooted and waved my arms until Vince turned the ATV in my direction. He parked at the edge of the forest, untied his throwing rope and tried to convince me that when he chased the cattle out of the trees, I should herd them up the ranch road by running the ATV behind them. I told Vince I didn't want to drive the ATV since I didn't really know how. Vince chuckled and with trusty Zip headed into the forest to find the cattle.

I followed behind the seasoned cattle herders at a distance, but quickly lost them as I struggled up the hill. I could hear a lot of stomping and branches cracking, but through the foliage, I couldn't see what was going on. I climbed even higher to get a view from the grassy slope above the forest. Far below, I could see Vince walking past the Menotti barn, but no steers. I headed back down through the forest to rejoin Vince. Passing the Octopus Tree, I once again saw a swishing black tail and slowly shooed the steers towards the barn. As the cattle came out into the open, Vince and Zip got them trotting back up the ranch road. Vince asked me to slowly walk behind the steers on the road and he would get the ATV and pick me up.

Charging the fishers

When Vince picked me up on the ATV, he explained that the cattle were getting tired and would probably stick to the road if we followed them slowly enough. We were halfway back to the corral, when the wily steers headed into another forest - the one where the old grader is getting swallowed up by a buckeye tree. Vince jumped off the ATV to follow them and once again suggested I drive the ATV along the road. When I hesitated, he gave me a 20-second ATV refresher: "Here's the gas, here are the brakes". As he headed into the forest, he shouted, "Wish me luck" and I thought, "Wish me luck with this ATV."

First, I had to figure out how to get it out of neutral. I remembered something about kicking up the pedals and got it into first gear. I decided I would just go slow and keep the darn thing in first gear the whole time.

Vince moved the cattle out of the forest and got them started on the road again. I slowly followed behind. I lost Vince when the cattle made a dash for the Woods Pond. I parked the ATV near a road crossing to see which way the cattle would come out. I wasn't sure if I could turn the ATV back on, so I shifted it into neutral, figured out how to set the parking brake (press the button that says "p. brake"), and crawled down the slope to watch the action at the Woods Pond. Through the trees, all I could see was a confused milling of black and red legs, boots and dog tail.

I went back up to the ATV, got real brave, and figured out how to put it in reverse (push the red button marked "R" and kick the gear pedal) so that I could turn sharp enough to take the road to the Woods Pond. However, then I couldn't get the ATV out of reverse. I tried every combination of kicking pedals up and down, pressing the R button and so on. Finally, I gave up, turned the ATV off and put on the parking brake.

Corner pocket

While climbing down another slope to the Woods Pond, I suddenly noticed Vince walking on the road above me. I shouted to him but he didn't hear me. I scaled the slope and finally caught up with him just as he and Reed were moving the tired steers into the corral. We closed the corral gate and then Vince started cattle angling.

Corner standoff

Basically, Vince and Reed slowly approached the cattle which would run into a corner, the boys would approach again, and the cattle would run into another corner.

Easing up nice and slow

This went on many times, but each time, the boys got a little closer.

Fingering the line

Eventually, Vince was able to ease up close enough to pick up the line that the red steer was dragging. The first few times, he couldn't get the line tied to a solid object before the steer took off again. Finally, while the steer tiredly walked up the hill to the water trough, it left a lot of slack in the line. Vince gently picked up the end of the line, slowly lifted it and waited.

Tieing off the line

As the steer became distracted, Vince walked the line over to the side of the corral, reached through the fence and tied it to a willow tree. The steer didn't seem to notice. Vince slowly walked around and above the steer. He was getting ready to approach it, grab the line near its neck, and cut the loop with the wire cutters from his rear pocket.

Walking into position

But instead, the steer charged downhill again. I thought this was going to be like one of those cartoons when a dog runs after a cat full speed and then gets pulled short by a chain. But instead, the telephone line suddenly broke and fell off. The steer was finally free. We had a relieved laugh and Vince reeled in the loose line.

The last charge down the hill

Later, Vince went back to get the ATV. While he was loading it into the trailer, I asked him how to get it out of reverse. He showed me by pushing down the red R button and kicking up on the gear pedal. However, the ATV did not go into first gear. "Oh", Vince said, "sometimes you have to turn the wheel a little to get it to pop in." So that is how you reel in a cow and kick an ATV out of reverse - persistence and a flick of the wrist.

Back to a peaceful evening of grazing.

Christmas Bob

2009-12-25T21:01:00.000-08:00

We went for a Christmas Day walk on the ranch. This required crawling under a few fences.

The cows followed us into a new pasture. First, they galloped through the gate and explored. Then they got down to serious grazing.

A newt smaller than my pinky tumbled down a landslide onto the old ranch road. We helicoptered him to the creek side of the road with words of encouragement.

There were 17 male mallards at the Mallard Pond.

We watched a bobcat sunning. He ignored us and hunted.

He gave us a short stare through the grasses. Then he leapt away.

It was a fine Christmas Day and a walk worth crawling under fences.

Cattle Fishing - Day 1

2009-12-23T18:08:00.001-08:00

I've got a great view out my kitchen window. Yesterday as I was washing the breakfast dishes, I watched a colorful group of cattle graze along the slope above the orchard. One of the steers stumbled under the Courting Oak. Even though the cattle are new to the property and the slope is steep, something seemed odd. I abandoned the dishes and headed outside.

A lousy necktie.

Through the binoculars, I could see a red steer with about 50 feet of black telephone wire wrapped around his body. One loop went loosely around the steer's neck, a snarled knot dangled on his chest and a loose end trailed behind. I angled up the slope to get a better view. The steer was quietly grazing and walking mostly unhampered. Still, I was worried the line would catch on something and the loop would tighten around his windpipe.

Vince, the cattle operator, was due soon to fix a hole in the fence near the watertank. Since the corral gate was open and almost directly downhill from the steer, and I was standing above the steer, I called my son on my cell phone and asked him to help me shoo the tangled steer into the corral.

Zeeeee, running out the line.

However, the red steer and his 3 black compatriots had other ideas - they went up and around a wooded drainage and I couldn't run fast enough to turn them around. I had forgotten that cattle rarely run straight up or down a slope. I wandered around the upper pastures, saw plenty of happy cows grazing and laying out in the sun, but I couldn't find a steer dragging line.

Soon Vince arrived and I filled him in. He had his grandson, Hunter, and Zip the cowdog with him. They set out to fix the fence first and I decided to ignore the dishes and add compost to my earthworm bins on the side of the barn where I could keep an eye on the corral and the cowboys.

Steering the steer to the open corral gate at lower right corner.

By the time I was just about done stirring in coffee grounds and persimmon peels, I heard cattle lowing and turned to see Vince, Hunter and Zip moving a small group of cattle down the road towards the corral. I decided standing near the corral might spook the cattle, so I slipped around the barn. Vince and Zip moved above the steers and nudged them towards the open corral gate.

Hunter stops the cattle with a confident gesture.

Hunter was holding his ground on the road; every time the steers turned his way, he emphatically gestured "stop".

As the steer made a dash up the slope, Vince grabbed the dragging line. Hunter follows suit.

Occasionally, Vince would utter a quiet command to Zip and the cowdog would work around the steer or face him off to keep him going in the right direction.

Tug of war.

The steer charged down the slope and Vince shortened the line, but then the steer reared up on two feet above him. The steer started dragging the cowboys down the road and Hunter tumbled down. Vince realized the telephone wire may have exposed wires at the end that would rip his ungloved hands and he let go. As the red steer dashed off again with the telephone wire bouncing behind him, Vince decided that the cow fishing would have to continue on another day.

Why cowboys wear jeans: to wrap that line around their butt.

Coming soon: another day of dishes and cattle wrangling, plus I get an ATV stuck.

Hunter grinning right before the steer drags him and grandpa down the road.

December Orange

2009-12-16T20:37:00.000-08:00

I am seeing wintry oranges everywhere.

A banana slug slimes across redwood leaf litter on the forest floor.

The dogwood trees turn red, yellow and orange. When the leaves blow off, the deep red stems are featured.

A California towhee shows off its orange tush while eating a hanging persimmon.

California towhees are plain at first glance,
but they have a delightful necklace of black dots.

A trio of American robins. Their breasts don't glow as bright as the persimmons, but once you notice their white eye ring, it stands out like the sought-after pattern on a puzzle piece.

Flocks of modestly colored cedar waxwings can be spotted against the winter sky by the narrow, bright yellow band at the tip of their tails. Perching, you notice their small crest, pale yellow belly, and maybe a red or orangish tip to their secondary feathers caused by their fruit-heavy diet (sometimes described as waxy drops or modifications of the feather shaft which may influence their breeding choices).

The small cedar waxwings wait in the walnut tree for their turn at the persimmons.

Other birds that are feeding on the persimmons are ravens, stellar jays and yellow-rumped warblers, starlings, red-breasted sapsucker, downy woodpecker . While birding in bed the other morning, I saw a red-shafted flicker reach for a dripping glob of persimmon jelly, and incidentally show off his red mustache, orangish eye shadow and the apricot-red of the underside of his tail feathers.

The persimmons fill up the living room.

A brown and orange coast range newt crosses a road under stormy skies.

Some newts don't make it across the road.

Newts move slowly. They follow the same pathways to water each winter for breeding. When the second big storm of the year arrives, look sharp and notice where the newts cross the country roads. On those sections, slow down enough to check the road surface and straddle the newts with your car wheels.

A maple leaf mimics a newt in threat pose as a car approaches.

Orange in the summer is too bright. Orange in the winter is warm and cheerful in a content sorta way. A base of life turning over. Some people have a hard time with the short days in winter - SAD, seasonal affective disorder. Their brains produce more of the hormone melatonin during the longer hours of darkness, and depression, anxiety, hopelessness and oversleeping may set in. Sitting under a certain type of light, phototherapy, might help.

I do okay with the short days if I get up early and am outside or near a window to see the winter sun rise, or if I get a gulp of moonlit night air. I witness the seasonal patterns in my skin and lungs and have winter orange hope and anticipation for longer days.

A long full moon on November 5th.

Happy winter solstice. Peace to you as the days get longer. Bite into a persimmon or bright tangerine for vitamins and to spark up your spirit.

I got mine.

Waiting for the Storm

2009-12-15T21:29:00.000-08:00

Valley oaks on the Jasper Ridge Biological Preserve greet
storm clouds blowing down the eastern slope of the Santa Cruz Mountains.

Storms threaten, dust the ridge tops with a bit of snow, and then skirt around us to dump on the middle of the continent.

Snowy oak in the upper Dipper Ranch pasture.

Snowy California buckeyes in foreground,
trail in Skyline Ridge Open Space Preserve in background.

Just enough snow to highlight the branching patterns of different types of trees and then drip down the stems.

Coyote watches the newly arrived cattle drag hooves in the snow.

We started the storm season in a serious mood of preparation - anchoring down the flyables, cleaning out culverts, and moving equipment out of the big field where it might get stuck in the mud.

Western toad waiting seven inches down a burrow for the coming storm.

Three or four storms later, I now come home in the dark and think, "The yard looks like my bedroom when I was a teenager except I don't remember having so many orange socks."

Redwinged blackbirds moving restlessly
in the skies above Jasper Ridge Biological Preserve.

How do animals sense the advent of a storm? Pretty much the same way weather forecasters do - by tracking the change in air pressure and watching the sky.

Blackbirds waiting for the storm.

Except the animals don't stand in line at the grocery store and complain about rain.

Hundreds of blackbirds settle into an oak tree for a few minutes.

Something about that grocery store line, makes you forgot that we require water and food and air and solid ground to live.

In breaks before storms, the animals come out to sun.

A big bobcat claims a sunny meadow far down a hill in Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve.

Approached by a smaller bobcat, they spar for a few seconds,
the smaller bobcat goes belly up,
and the big bobcat reclaims his basking territory.

The coyotes bask on a sunny hilltop in the morning.

They reluctantly move on
when I get out of the car to open the gate.

And the clouds come and go with more rain. Tomorrow, we will try to find a special population of newts moving through Stevens Canyon with the newest storm.

Morning moisture rising out of Stevens Canyon.

Return of the Cattle

2009-12-09T17:43:00.001-08:00

Unloading into the corral.

The cattle have arrived for the start of the Dipper Ranch grazing season. Fifty-some calves arrived on December 3rd and fifty-some more will arrive over the next few weeks.

"Wow, look at our new home."

The purpose of our conservation grazing program is to control the amount of less desirable non-native annual grasses and thatch (dead plant material), reduce the amount of weedy and invasive plant species, reduce wildfire risk by controlling fuel loads, create conditions that provide better native plant biodiversity, and promote the local, historical agriculture economy.

Happy California cows, a little surprised by a morning of snow.

Over the last 3 years, we have gradually increased the number of cattle on the Dipper's 235 grassland acres and extended the grazing season as we watch the pastures improve. This year, we expect the grazing season to be December through July if the grass holds out.

Standing at a fence post for this monitoring point, we evaluate the near and
far pastures for erosion, bare soil and overall rangeland quality.

Each Fall, we monitor the rangeland conditions including "residual dry matter" (a measure of the amount of vegetation left on the ground), erosion, water quantity and quality, sensitive areas like streamsides, change in vegetation and wildlife, and infrastructure (fences, gates, roads, water delivery). We watch like hawks to protect against a destructive level of overgrazing.

Their job - eating grass.

Last year, I noticed that the upper pastures had more California poppies and more robust tufts of native perennial grasses. The spring weather, however, suddenly went from wet to warm and the non-native annual grasses quickly headed out - that is, the seed heads shot up. Many grasses that have gone to seed are less digestible and therefore not as heavily grazed by cattle. Last year, we didn't have enough cattle on the property (80 head) to rotate quickly enough through the 3 pastures and keep the annual grasses grazed down and therefore couldn't stop the seeding as the weather changed. So the annual grasses reproduced and died early in the summer rather than continuing to put out new leaves as they do when more frequently grazed.

Cleaning up in a little snowstorm.

It's all about weather in agriculture, and you can't always predict it, so you adjust to it. That is why a flexible seasonal grazing program allows us to improve the pasture and natural conditions on the property over time without risking overgrazing.

Estate Walnuts

2009-11-23T18:14:00.001-08:00

--The very first yellow-bellied racer I rescued from the Dipper spring box. ---

The English walnut trees at the Dipper Ranch are productive every year. The walnut bounty is enjoyed by family, friends , neighbors, co-workers, volunteers, jays, deer, rodents, even delivery guys and coyotes. But not by snakes. Nevertheless, somehow I started making labels for the walnuts that feature a Dipper snake of the year.

--- The Curiosity of Racers ---

Estate bottled wines are defined as those for which 100% of the grapes are grown on land owned or controlled by the winery within the same viticultural region, and the winery must crush and ferment the grapes, and finish, age and bottle the wine in a continuous process on their premises. Since all the Dipper walnuts are from within 100 feet of my kitchen door, they dehusk themselves on the ground under the trees, I dry them between old window screens under the maple trees or in the garage, and I shell them while watching DVDs in my living room, I hereby declare these are Estate Walnuts.

--- A Snake of Many Colors ---

I don't expect to ever run out of walnuts, snake photos or snake stories on the Dipper Ranch, so there will probably be many interesting Estate Walnut snake labels. One day, they will surely become collectibles.

Today while I was sprawled on the forest floor photographing a huge oak, someone who doesn't know me very well tried to scare me about snakes. I told him "It's too cold for snakes. They are all hibernating." An hour later, we were walking through a sunny meadow and sure enough, there was a gopher snake peering up at me. I moved it out of the way of the ATV. As the last of its tail slithered into the dry grass, I smiled to be humbled by lowly snakes once again.

November 2009 Seedlings

2009-11-22T19:57:00.000-08:00

Here are the answers to the seedling photos posted during the week.

--- California poppy seedling ---

--- Finely-divided mature leaves and flower bud on California poppy ---

The first seedling with the "forked-tongue" cotyledons is a native California poppy. Notice the overall glaucous cast (flat, whitish film on surface like on a cabbage leaf) to the leaves and stems, the multiple fine divisions and pink tips of the true leaves and how these same traits are just starting to uncurl and show in the seedling.

--- California poppy seed pod ---

California poppies have minuscule seeds (1.5-1.8 mm) that are flung out of a long pod as it dries and splits. These seeds probably settle under bits of litter and into soil cracks where they are soaked by the first rains. California poppies are perennials that also come back from a taproot. If you see the forked cotyledons, however, you know that plant germinated from seed.

--- brand new thistle seedling, probably Italian thistle ---

--- Italian thistle seedling on left, milk thistle on right ---

The second seedling with the prickly true leaves is a weedy thistle not native to California, probably Italian thistle because of the fine white prickles on the upper surface of the blade. Look at the side-by-side slightly older thistle seedlings above. The seedling on the left has fine long white hairs on the upper surface (Italian thistle) and the seedling on the right has no such hairs but large white splashes cross from the center vein to the edge of the blade and often alongside the leaf veins (milk thistle).

--- In a few months, the Italian thistle seedling will be tall with flowers and seeds ---

The third seedling with the corkscrew seed pods is a filaree, probably red-stem filaree which is found in grasslands, pastures and yards and is not native to California. The corkscrew attachment to the seed expands and contracts with moisture and effectively screws the seed into the ground. The previous photo showed the spent attachment with the seed already detached.

--- filaree seedling ---

More seedling photos coming up. And one other note: I saw a few coast range newts crossing Alpine Road this evening, so look sharp when you are driving the next few weeks on or after rainy or foggy weather.

--- "I better get moving to the ponds before all these seedlings grow up and get in my way. Monocot, dicot, out of my way. ---

See also:

California poppy, Eschscholzia californica
Italian thistle, Carduus pycnocephalus
red-stem filaree, Erodium cicutarium

Perky Seedling

2009-11-18T20:46:00.001-08:00

18 mm wide

photo taken Nov 13th

This is a perky seedling showing two cotyledon leaves with a few wide red lobes, and the first true leaves with pinnate (feather-like) leaflets. When seedlings get several sets of leaves, it's easier to identify them because the first true leaves are often miniature versions of the leaves on the mature plant that we most readily recognize.

photo taken Oct 18

Here is another version of that same plant in seedling stage. This photo was taken 5 days after the first big seasonal rain and the ground was covered with hundreds of these little jobbies. At first, I wasn't sure what these plants were because I didn't recognize the cotyledon shape. In a few days, the next set of leaves appeared and as they unfurled, they revealed a distinct and familiar pattern to the true leaves. Now I can match the two different kinds of early leaves and determine the identity of the smallest seedlings with only cotyledon leaves.

I am not sure why the new cotyledons are green and the older ones are red. It could be the older ones are experiencing a modest amount of drought stress. With hardly any rain in the last few weeks, the plant may be diverting what water it can suck out of the soil with its young root system to the newest set of leaves, and the older seed leaves are dying off. On the other hand, within its first few weeks, maybe the plant has sucked most of the stored nutrients out of the seed leaves and is getting ready to drop them with the onset of a few sets of true leaves.

Each corkscrew approximately 14 mm long

There are other clues. Sometimes if you carefully look and probe, you can find a seed still attached to the young seedling. If the seed is something you recognize, then you might be able to identify the seedling, or at least a group of plants to which the seedling belongs. In this case, I found several different types of seeds on the surrounding soil, but it was the many corkscrew type structures on top and twisted into the soil that helped me figure out what this seedling is.

Now it is your turn to guess. I will post the answer in a few days.

Second Rainy Seedling 2009

2009-11-16T20:32:00.000-08:00

16 mm wide, photo taken 11/14/09

What's this seedling? It has large, thick cotyledons (seed leaves) with a slightly rough surface. First true leaves have pointed tips, spiny edges and white prickles on the surface of the blade.

A definition of cotyledon from the Facts on File Dictionary of Botany: "The first leaf or leaves of the embryo in seed plants." For our purposes in identifying seedlings, we are looking at the cotyledons that emerge from the seed and are the first leaf-like structures that you see.

The cotyledons of mystery seedling #2 are thick which means they are filled with stored food to spur the growth of the seed-bound embryo upon release from dormancy (usually means the seed has been soaked with moisture). They are also green which means photosynthesis starts immediately upon germination to provide growing energy. This is a plant that is likely to grow quickly either underground or above ground or both.

There are two cotyledons which means this is a plant in the subclass of Dicotyledonae, a large category that contains most of the flowering plants we most readily recognize as opposed to the Monocotyledonae subclass which includes the grasses and grasslike plants that only have one cotyledon. Other features that people most often recognize: Dicotyledons have broad leaves with branching veins (think lettuce or maple leaves), whereas Monocotyledons have narrow leaves with parallel veins (think grass or lily). Don't worry too much about these big names, just remember that two cotyledons means it is not a grass, and you are closer to guessing what this seedling is.

Sometimes people casually use the term "dicot" to mean seedling. They might say, "In the winter, we use the propane torch to kill the dicots." I recommend you do not use the word dicot in this casual fashion because it could be interpreted as meaning that you are going to control all the gazillion of plant species that are in the Dicotyledonae subclass, and that is an exhausting thought. Try to use the words dicot and cotyledon for separate purposes. You might say, "The propane torch works best on plants that are still in their cotyledon stage." Or, "I noticed that seedling is a dicot, so it can't be any of the native grasses we seeded here."

On weekends, I will post the identification of any of the mystery seedlings from that week. If the deer don't eat the seedlings in the meantime, I will also post photos of their growth over one week of sunny weather.

See also: The Facts on File Dictionary of Botany, Elizabeth Tootill, General Editor, Stephen Blacmore, Consultant Editor, Market House Books Limited, 1984.

What's Up?

2009-11-14T10:37:00.001-08:00

Can you guess what this seedling is?
Height = 20 mm, photo taken 11/14/09

Over the next few weeks, I will post photos of new seedlings as they sprout with the winter rains. I'll post "baby pictures" of both native plants and weeds since it is important to recognize both.

I'll photograph some of the plants multiple times during their growing season so we can watch them morph and get an idea of how quickly they grow.

Lots of belly time with the camera.

The Trickster - A Halloween Coyote Attack

2009-11-02T17:09:00.000-08:00

We got an early trick-or-treater on Halloween. Cat King Cole, the ranch cat, was attacked by a coyote.

That morning, we had slept in, and Cole and I were taking our first constitutional around the farmyard at about 9:30 am. I wouldn't let Cole out until I found my glasses and shoes and my coffee mug was full. I had spotted coyotes around the ranch the last few days and although Cole is ranch-savvy and the rarely seen coyotes always run away when they see me, I was being cautious to only let him out when I was outside too.

After patrolling the corners of the compound, I decided to husk some walnuts in the lovely fall light. My technique: stroll about the walnut trees with coffee cup in hand, find the fallen nuts that are splitting out of their husks, roll them under my boot until the brown shells pop out, and leave them on the ground in the sun for a few days to dry. I had broken one of my rules, to always wear enclosed-toe shoes in the yard for snake protection, but the flip-flops I had casually slipped on were doing a fair job of walnut husking. It was mellow chore on a pleasant morning.

The stellar jays were scolding something. In the springtime, they hold yelling matches with the acorn woodpeckers every morning during the changing of the bird guard. Maybe they were yelling at Cole, yet they were used to him by now and mostly ignored him. This sounded louder and harsher. Maybe they were scolding a snake. I had been waiting for the snakes to show up as they often do on warm mornings between cold snaps in the fall when I think they are making their way back to their winter den. I scanned the grass beneath the walnut trees and the door cracks under the barn, but saw no telltale brown splotches.

After 30 minutes of flip-flop husking, I meandered around the corner of the barn. Within a few steps, I heard a big bang and commotion. A dreadful thought exploded in my head and spun me around in a run. As I cornered the barn, I saw a bushy-tailed coyote crouched near where I had just been standing. Cole's grey hindquarters were sticking out from beneath the red-grey dog. I ran straight for the coyote screaming my fear in a sonic boom. As I got close, I threw the coffee cup at the coyote. It dashed to the right and disappeared. Cole took off in a streak to the left before I could reach him. In seconds, he was down a hill, through the pig pen, under a fence and up a maple tree in the corral. I ran after him, yelling curses at the coyote the whole time, but I had to run around to the gate in the corral fence and momentarily lost sight of both coyote and Cole.

--- High up in the maple tree. ---

From under the tree I couldn't see any blood on Cole and all his limbs seemed intact, but he kept climbing higher until little twigs were breaking under his paws. His pupils were huge and he was trembling. I stopped my hysterical screaming and tried to coax him down, but he would have none of it. He was straining his neck and scanning the backyard and brush constantly, and wouldn't look at me. I realized that if I left, he might fall out of the tree and the attacking coyote and possibly others were probably hiding and watching from the brush for another chance. Indeed, they must have been watching all morning while I was humming away under the walnut trees.

--- Twigs snapping. ---

I scanned the brush and fallen-down pig shed but saw nothing, so I sat under the maple tree to decide what to do. I wanted help, but was afraid to leave. Finally, I decided to quickly dash back to the house for my pack with binoculars so I could better scan Cole's condition and for my cell phone in case I needed to call an emergency veterinarian. I grabbed a big stick and banged on every fence post and tree trunk on the way to the house to scare the coyote. When I was kid, we had a neighbor who would bang a stick against his porch posts to keep away the imaginary robbers. We thought he was crazy. I wanted the coyote to think I was crazy. Crazy enough to run after a coyote and if I had had on boots, I would have kicked it.

When I returned to the maple tree, Cole was still up high. In the binoculars, I couldn't see any wounds on his body. I waited. It seemed like a long time. I wanted to beat up the coyote but I had no idea where it was, and I knew I should stay quiet so Cole would come down. So I texted my friends on the cell phone for support. I didn't want to call them; I wasn't sure I could actually speak clearly. I could barely hit the phone buttons, but just doing something, calling out for help, was calming me down. I developed a plan.

--- Coming down. Don't fall! ---

I slowly climbed the maple tree and talked to Cole in as calm a voice as I could squeak out. He finally glanced down at me and looked surprised, "Mom can climb trees?" I found a sturdy crotch in the branches half way up and waited. In the meantime, my friends texted me back words of encouragement. Cole slowly climbed down to meet me. I rolled him in my t-shirt and made it the rest of the way down the tree, across the farmyard and into the house. Our combined exhalations were loud and sending out warnings to any coyote that dared approached us now that I had my cat in hand.

Inside the house, I searched Cole's entire body several times and did not find any wounds or blood. He was clearly upset but didn't flinch when I touched any part of his body. We spent the rest of the morning on the enclosed porch and tried to calm down.

--- Early morning sunbathing near the gate. ---

I reviewed the clues. Last week, I heard loud crunching one night and under flashlight investigation, flushed a walnut-eating coyote behind the house. Two coyotes had been sunning on a hill near the gate when I left the ranch on a cool, early morning 3 days ago. They jumped up when I got out of the car to open the gate.

---Scratch first. ---

One quickly ran down the hill, while the other lingered to scratch and look at me across the hillside before it followed the first into the sagebrush. They both had glossy, full coats. Perhaps they were young coyotes who had finished their summer of growing to full size and were now striking out on their own.

--- A fresh-looking coat. ---

The day before at dusk from the living room window, I briefly saw a fluffy tail pop over the hill behind the walnut trees. When I walked out the kitchen door to check, a bright coyote was urinating on the drive in front of the barn. It looked at me briefly and then climbed the hill behind the orchard and slowly loped through the tall grass. It frequently looked behind as if checking on something, and I guessed that a second coyote was nearby although I could not see it. At the top of the hill, the coyote sat and watched me. This behavior was unlike the quick retreat I usually observe from the local coyotes. I guessed again that this was a young coyote still learning survival skills.

--- Watching from above. ---

And today, the jays screamed a predator warning which in my morning bliss, I did not acknowledge.

--- Reflecting on a scary Halloween morning. ---

While I reviewed the recent coyote sightings, Cole seemed to be mulling himself. He sat on a table behind the Halloween pumpkin, but frequently checked any noise or motion in the yard. He was unusually quiet and didn't eat food all day. No external or internal injuries have appeared. Cole is regaining his ranch cat confidence but seems content in the house for now. He had the nerve to meow "Out?" yesterday. I gave him the you've-got-to-be-kidding look. He quieted right down.

I am reviewing the living-with-wildlife and coyote advice I have given so many people. The coyote books are spread out on the kitchen table. We get no human trick-or-treaters for Halloween at this remote location, but the trickster made his move. I recognize this is part of ranch living and I will make my move out of respect for wildlife and wild lands managed and sparsely occupied by people. And I will bang on posts like a crazy woman to protect my ranch cat.

--- The weapon of a crazy woman. ---

Harvest Time 2009

2009-11-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

--- Nathan and his very bright grandfather.

Photographer: Duncan Simmons ---

Last weekend, the first batch of friends and warriors came up to the Dipper Ranch to harvest English walnuts. A good time was had by all and then we had jello. No, wait, this is California. We grooved on the yellow fall light behind the red barn as we plunked the walnuts into buckets, bags, t-shirts and wheelbarrows and sang. No, just I sang and just inside my head because I was so happy to share that plunk-plunk sound.

We had several novitiates. I carefully explained the technique: pick up the brown-shelled ones and put them in the wheelbarrow. Don't pick up the other ones because the green husk will turn your hands black. Soon the wheelbarrow was full and everyone was giddy with walnut greed.

--- Walnut from 2009 harvest on left; 2008 walnut on right. ---

Last year, the walnut harvest inspired me to start the Dipper Ranch Blog. The Dipper Ranch Blog is now officially one year old. Happy Blog Birthday.

After wheeling the barrow around the farmyard, the silly people started playing walnut barrowball. The rest of us compared the color and taste of the new harvest (still a little green) with the few remaining unshelled nuts from last year's harvest (slight sawdust taste). Do vintners do this when they bottle a new year's worth of grapes?

--- Drying walnuts between window screens ---

I reminded people to dry the harvested walnuts for several days before they start shelling them and to only store the unshelled nuts in paper bags. I spread my walnuts on screens to air dry for about a week. I like to dry them outside under the shade of the maple trees, but if rain or high winds are forecast, I dry them in the garage. I spread them out in one layer on old window screens and then clamp another screen on top of them. This is to prevent the scheming rodents from stealing my harvest.

--- 2 x 2 buck overseeing the retreat of does into the forest. ---

After the harvest, we went for a walk to see the sunset. We saw the 2 x 2 buck and several does on the upper meadow, but since I had a large group of people with me, I was not concerned that the buck would try to charge me again. The does slipped into the forest and the buck stood on the edge to make sure we did not steal any of his girls. We ignored him and walked out to the center of the meadow for the best view of the sunset over the ocean 12 miles away.

--- The buck sidesteps in Duncan's direction. ---

Somehow, Duncan became separated from the rest of the group. When I looked back across the large meadow, I saw that the buck was circling him. I was concerned since Duncan was squatting down. The buck never actually ran straight towards Duncan as he had charged me in the same meadow at sunset last week. Instead, he slowly circled Duncan with lots of sideways glances, and then trotted over the top of the hill.

--- Duncan, stand up! ---

--- From Duncan's viewpoint.

Photographer: Duncan Simmons ---

--- Buck finally turning his back on Duncan and heading up the hill.

Photographer: Duncan Simmons ---

Later when I informed Duncan that was one of the bucks that charged me last week, he said, "Oh, that is because he knew you are pushover." Duncan Simmons, attorney-at-law and deer whisperer.

We had BBQ hot dogs, sausages and chicken with pesto noodles, almond-stuffed olives and cherry tomatoes by candlelight under the maple trees. Benny fixed my computer. Everyone drove home safely and agreed that a good time was had by all.

Nathan, with energizer-bunny-like stamina, was excited to pee in the back-forty, and he gave me a giant pumpkin with a ghost carving kit. I don't get any trick-or-treaters at the Dipper Ranch, so at first, I didn't know what I was going to do with these prizes. Since then, I have secretly schemed to roll the huge pumpkin down the steepest hill on the ranch and watch it tumble and smash into little treats for the deer. A former news station camera man has offered to document this important event. Do we know how to party or what?

--- Colorful sunset clouds to celebrate the harvest and the great outdoors.

Photographer: Duncan Simmons ---

With the next windstorm, there will be more walnuts on the ground. With sunny days, the green husks will shrivel and more brown shells will pop out. And another batch of daytime friends and warriors will arrive for the walnut harvest. At night, the critters will collect their share; how they party, I am not sure, but I'm sure a good time will be had by all.

--- Duncan Simmons, attorney-at-law and deer whisperer ---

Garage Ecology

2009-10-26T09:17:00.000-07:00

I've been cleaning the garage in preparation of the annual walnut harvest. I found an old radio in there. It probably belonged to Paul Ortega, the ranch caretaker who lived in this house for decades. On top of the old radio, I keep a pair of muddy glasses which I found in the dirt behind the barn last winter. Every time it rains, something shows up in the farmyard. The glasses remind me that we all grind down to dust one day, except for the junk we lose in the yard.

I assume these glasses were Paul's along with the muddy tools which keep showing up. I put the rusty tools in a bin in the garage with the mental label "Paul". The broken plates and glassware, I pile in a pot full of herbs with the mental note "Lola" (Paul's wife). I browse through Paul's bin now and then when I am thinking about what life used to be like on the ranch. Lola seems to be a constant pink presence in the yard. I am hesitant to clean the radio or the glasses because Paul touched them. I really don't know these things, but I make up stories about found items in an attempt to understand the past and to fit in with the time I sense flowing through this land.

--- Bucks and does gathering at the courting oak within earshot of the garage. ---

Farmyard deposition goes something like this: Paul loses tools in the farmyard while working, they get covered up with mud, more rain uncovers them decades later when Cindy finds them, Cindy puts them in the garage with all the other stuff that collects dust and requires annual cleaning, Cindy loses her stuff in the yard, somebody else finds them later, and so on. Be careful of what you lose in the yard because that will be your legacy.

--- Bucks passing calmly today. ---

Somehow this radio manages to tune in only AM talk shows from the 50s and 60s. An investment program ("Buy this book and you will be a millionaire.") and a Christian station ("Shameful dancers on the sidelines of football games") got me through cleaning up a lot of mouse poop.

--- Does resting on the other side of the hill. --

Meanwhile, through the open garage door, I could see the deer gathering under the courting oak. I kept an eye on the bucks, but today they repeatedly passed each other with no signs of aggression. The does were disappearing over the hill behind the courting oak, so I took a break from sorting nails to climb its back side and spy on them - the does were resting and the bucks were hanging out. Later, I noticed that the 4 x 4 buck was gone and the 2 x 2 buck was scent-tracking the does with outstretched neck. Below the house in a meadow, I could see a small male fawn attempting the same thing. The does just keep moving and grazing and ignoring the attention. I guess something happens eventually since there are new fawns every year.

--- Bucks don't seem to eat or rest much during the rutting season. ---

--- 2 x 2 buck steadfastly following a doe. ---

When dusk arrived, I turned off the radio in the hopes of hearing owls. I'd just gotten back from an animated talk by Garth Harwood to the South Skyline Association on Owls in Your Neighborhood. Within minutes, a big chunky owl landed on the utility pole in the orchard. I prepared my ears for detecting what species of owl it might be. Probably a great horned owl because of its large size, but possibly a long-eared owl which Garth says occasionally visits the Santa Cruz Mountains. And also to see if I could distinguish the higher pitched call of a female great-horned owl during the male-female duet. There's nothing like applying newly gained nature knowledge in your own backyard while cleaning the garage. Garth said the great-horned owls are starting their pair-bonding activities this time of year prior to breeding which consists of repeated calls back and forth. This explains the loud hooting from the maple trees next to my bedroom which have woken me up several times in the last few weeks. The owl gleaned his feathers, ignored my unsuccessful attempts to photograph him in the dark, hunted in the grasslands, but didn't bother to call.

--- Blurry large owl with ear tufts. ---

Later while sweeping the garage floor, I heard a loud crunching noise in the backyard near the two smaller walnut trees. As I walked in that direction, I heard the familiar sound of a deer trotting off. The deer are visiting the yard regularly, especially at night, to snack on the fallen walnuts. While I got distracted by star-gazing, the crunching started up again. Curious, I went inside to get a flashlight and waited. When the loud sound started again, I shined the light and was surprised to find a coyote under the walnut trees. He slipped away but at the spot he was standing, I found walnuts cracked open. I looked around and found more cracked shells with the nut meat missing.

--- To be tested for coyote saliva. ---

The Silva family used to own this land. The Silva girls told me their uncle planted the walnut trees behind the barn in the 60s and the nuts were a special heart shape and extremely tasty. They inquire how the walnut trees are doing, and I take the hint and walk across the country road with a big grocery bag of walnuts every year.

This is garage ecology:
The Silva uncle planted the walnut trees, Paul Ortega took care of them, now I harvest the walnuts and give many away, and every year the deer, woodpeckers, jays, crows, mice and coyotes visit the trees for an autumnal feast. While the fundamentalists pray on the radio, the deer court openly, the owls don't give a hoot, and generations of coyotes walk over buried tools and plates to crack open walnuts.

How to Stop a Buck

2009-10-24T23:09:00.000-07:00

--- Prelude , 6:19 pm ---

The first storms of the season have arrived. A dying hurricane from the other side of the Pacific Ocean slammed into the central California coast last Tuesday. In 24 hours, it delivered 7" of rain in the La Honda area, 25% of the average annual total.

--- The kiss of purple, 6:42 pm ---

For a few days before and after a storm, pressure fronts shuffle in shapely clouds. On Saturday, I walked up to the high pasture at twilight and witnessed spectacular orange, pink and red clouds steaming in off the ocean. Squatting on the side of a grassy hill, I oohed and aahed as the scene changed every 30 seconds and clicked away on my camera.

--- 6:45 pm ---

With the brilliant show on my front side, the pasture was getting darker on my backside. I sensed that something was moving and perhaps watching me from the forested area to the right, yet I didn't want to turn away from the sky play or put down my camera. Finally, I glanced over when I heard a noise. A buck was running straight towards me. I quickly stood up in surprise, and in response, the buck halted and gave me a startled look.

--- "Whoa, what was that? You aren't a doe." ---

We assessed each other. He was the 2 x 2 buck (2 antler points on each side) I had seen lurking last week on the edge of the courting oak above the house where he was being ignored by the dominant 4 x 4 buck. I quickly snapped a photo of him and the camera flash went off in the darkening meadow. The bright light sent the buck (probably partially blinded) into the forest and a doe appeared out of nowhere to follow him.

--- Sliding into redness, 6:50 pm ---

I went back to photographing the colorful skies, but in a few minutes, I had the same feeling again. I looked towards the forest, but did not see the 2 x 2 buck. Turning further around, I realized how dark it was getting and then saw a large buck charging straight down the hill above me. He was far away but coming fast and getting larger. Several does were scattering down the hill behind him.

--- Buck Number 2 - looking big & determined. ---

At this point, I was standing up again. After all the months of watching deer run away, I couldn't believe this buck was intentionally charging me until I saw him tear through the open spot in the fence and turn resolutely in my direction. As his shaking rack got closer, I could tell he was the 4 x 4 buck I had seen consorting with does last week under the courting oak. I figured he had mistaken me for another doe to add to his harem, even though I was wearing a faded pink shirt and maroon sweat pants. Colors and details were blurring in the pasture with the oncoming dusk. Deer have a much keener sense of smell than eyesight. Any second, I expected the buck would realize his mistake and peel off in another direction.

He kept coming and I decided to photograph my impending doom. With the first flash, the buck slowed a bit but kept true to his heading. By the third flash and within about 50 feet of me, he stopped to reconnoiter. At that point I think he could smell me well enough to decide I wasn't worth the trouble, and he took a slow oblique retreat up the hill, collecting his does on the way.

--- Finally halting on the third flash. ---

I decided it was time to head home and I made sure to walk tall with an obvious 2-legged stride.

Even though I was a bit shook up, I was still enjoying the light show. The last rays were highlighting the jagged outline of each Douglas fir tree. So often, the big trees blend into each other and you think "forest", but you are not conscious of so many individual trees breathing all day and standing outside all night.

--- 24-7 breathing for you, 7:01 pm ---

The next morning in lighter conditions, I went to check the Newt Pond which started to refill in the big storm. Already, I saw a small newt and water boatmen on the pond's surface. Four days - how do they get there so quickly?

Below the pond, I saw the 4 x 4 buck, 2 does and a fawn quietly browsing. They watched me without concern. Instead of charging this time, the buck puffed out his neck, posed regally and then turned and slowly trotted downhill out of sight. I was relieved he wasn't raring for a fight. The does stood at attention.

--- The 4 x 4 Buck sneaking out to the left on a mission. ---

As I replaced my camera in my backpack, I heard a loud CLACK-CLACK and looked over just in time to see the 4 x 4 buck with lowered antlers tossing up dirt on the edge of the Newt Pond. The rump of another deer was disappearing into the forest. The 4 x 4 buck must have spotted the 2 x 2 buck at the pond, slipped downhill into the forest, and snuck uphill under cover to surprise and challenge the smaller buck. Their antler clashing only lasted a few seconds. Black-tailed bucks have a reputation of avoiding direct combat, preferring to bluff charge to establish dominance.

--- The two bucks standing off a few days before under the courting oaks. ---

What I learned from the first storm of the season:

Post-storm clouds make spectacular sunsets.
One can usually dress sloppily and disregard color coordination on the ranch, but a pink t-shirt/maroon sweatpant combination might act as camouflage against a brilliant sunset sky.
My hair color is muddy fawn and I must not have a strong scent.
Don't get in between bucks during the rutting season, even if you are surrounded by a large pasture and fenceline.
Camera flashes might stop a charging buck in his tracks.

Slow Down Stupid Deer Ahead

2009-10-13T08:37:00.001-07:00

--- A buck holds court on October 4th under a strategic oak grove with plentiful acorns on the the ground. Throughout the morning, several does visited him. Fawns and smaller bucks browsed on the periphery of the grove; the large buck ignored them. ---

The bucks are back. I barely saw them in the past few months. Just a tall shoulder slipping into the trees. I suppose they summer in the dense lower canyons, leaving the high ground and developed water sources to the does and fawns. Now, black-tailed bucks with their swollen necks will stand in the middle of the road and not yield. And the does have become reckless, springing out of the roadside brush or down a steep roadcut without stopping to look and listen for danger. Their half-grown fawns, confused by all the changes in the herd, follow the rushing does without pause.

--- Buck and doe with tails raised. Courtship has begun. ---

The herd has started the rut - mating season - and the bucks are claiming territory, bunching the does together, ignoring the tag-along fawns, and towering over the younger bucks. The process of deciding whether a doe is ready to mate involves a lot of tail wagging and urinating on her part and sniffing on his part. The bucks will even pull back their lips to get a better whiff.

--- A young buck with velvety pedicels emerging from his skull.
This is Button on May 26th at the beginning of his second summer. ---

Throughout the summer, the bucks' antlers were developing, at first covered with soft, blood-filled velvet to feed the rapid growth which can be as much as 1 centimeter a day (Feldhamer). As the antler stops growing at the end of the summer, the bucks rubs the dried velvet and scent from their facial glands on springy young saplings. What happens to the spent velvet? Although I have seen plenty of signs of rubbing - branches with ripped bark and exposed wood on one side at about 10 to 45" above ground - I have never seen the actual velvet dangling on the branch or dropped below it. Deer have been observed eating the loosened velvet (Taylor) and perhaps other animals do too to recover nutrients.

--- A young buck with velvet-covered spikes or 'pencil antlers' in mid-September. This is probably Button later in his second summer. He would sneak out of the nearby willow thicket in the morning and evening for a quick drink before returning to cover. ---

The acorns are dropping, and as a choice food item, the deer are venturing out even in the daylight to scoop up these carbohydrate packages. The hunting seasons in our coastal region closed September 20th. Somehow, the deer, especially the larger and older bucks, know when the hunting pressure is off, and venture into the open more frequently. On the other hand, this behavior might be more of a result of game managers purposely setting the hunting season to precede the annual rut. With the approach of the rut, testosterone levels increase in the blood levels of bucks and they become hyperactive, increase roaming, exhibit aggressive behavior and eat more (Feldhamer).

--- By September 5th, a buck sneaks up to the farmyard to snack on buckeye leaves and check on the breeding status of the does. Most of his velvet is rubbed off with bits of moss or shrubbery sticking to the base of his antlers. This buck has 3 left points and 2 right points. ---

The combination of the deer breeding season, acorn drop, end of hunting season and earlier nightfall increase the possibility of hitting a deer while driving country roads this time of year. Mostly, it's the distracted state of the deer during the rut that raises the risk. Slow down when driving the country roads this time of year, especially at night. Be observant and you will notice particular locations where deer tend to congregate, often under an oak tree or at favorite crossings of a road, slope or creek.

Slow down, stupid deer ahead.

Most fall evenings, I see up to a half dozen deer when I pass the acorn-laden coast live and valley oaks at Moody and Old Snakey Roads. If a buck charges into the does and fawns, the whole bunch is likely to explode down the slope and onto the road. There is one curve on Page Mill Road where I often see a buck on the top of the bank tossing his rack against the starlit sky. I slow down before entering the curve because a few times he and the doe he was pursuing have stotted down the bank and landed on the road near my car. During the day, I can see a well-worn deer path at that location interrupted by the asphalt road.

--- The Dot doe's pelage is rough on September 26th as she sheds her summer coat. ---

Deer hit by cars are not a pretty sight. Last fall on two separate occasions, I saw a hit deer on its side, kicking helplessly along a steep roadbank. Both deer had injured hindquarters and could not get up or even drag themselves away. Their eyes were bugging out in fright as they tore at the earth with their forelegs, but they could not budge their heavy hips and paralyzed rear legs. Many of the country roads in the Santa Cruz Mountains are narrow and winding which increases the risk of vehicles hitting deer, and the frantic roadside flailing of an injured deer creates an additional road hazard for subsequent cars cruising around blind curves. The damage to the cars that hit deer can be substantial. At one location, I saw broken bits of plastic fender surrounding the struggling deer.

Slow down stupid, deer ahead.

There are other causes of deer death: malnutrition, disease/parasites and predation. Deer are the primary prey item for mountain lion. A coyote or feral dog can take down a fawn or sick, injured or aging adult deer. By their first autumn, 25 to 30% of that year's fawns have died (Feldhamer).

--- Skull of a deer carcass found in the apple meadow of Pasture 1 in January 2008. Antler stumps at top of photo. Two widely spaced canine puncture holes on the top of the skull and two on the bottom indicate this was probably a mountain lion kill.---

--- Skull of fawn found at Plum Pond in October 2007. ---

The Dot deer family, started the summer as a doe and two fawns, and was frequently seen around the farmyard. The last time I saw all three together was the end of August and one of the fawns had a small open sore at the base of its tail. For the last 3 weeks, I have seen the Dot doe with only one fawn, so it is likely that the other fawn has succumbed to predation, disease or vehicle collision.

--- The Dot family with two fawns on August 30. The doe still has her red summer coat. ---

Be smart. Slow down while driving this time of year, especially at night. Be especially observant at those locations you repeatedly see deer mingling during the rut. Avoid damage to your vehicle and mangling of local wildlife.

--- By October 13th, the Dot family is down to one fawn.
Notice the doe is wearing her gray winter robe and the fawn has no spots. ---

One more time (I'll let you decide where the comma should be inserted):

Slow down stupid deer ahead.

See also:

Columbian black-tailed deer - Odocoileus hemionus columbianus

George A. Feldhamer, Joseph A. Chapman, Bruce C. Thompson, editors, Wild Mammals of North America: Biology, Management and Conservation, John Hopkins University, 2003.

Mark Elbroch, Mammal Tracks & Sign, Stackpole Books, 2003.

Walter Taylor, editor, The Deer of North America, Stackpole Books and the Wildlife Management Institute, 1956 (with "Aldo Leopold (deceased)" listed as one member of the Editorial Committee).