Archilochus colubris

Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds are the most common hummingbird in the Eastern United States, and until I moved to Kansas, I had never seen one. Don’t get me wrong, I had seen lots of other species. California is a year-round home to quite a few species. But the hummingbird you see on greeting cards, shirts, and whatever else they put hummingbird pictures on was a mystery to me.

The first one I saw was pointed out during a bird walk. It was a little bump on a wire. She was so small, I could barely find her with my binoculars. No one else was impressed, but I was super excited. Another instance of something so common that no one notices them anymore, and I had never seen one.

Luckily, that was the first of many. One of our facilities guys at work hung a feeder outside the window in the main office, so I get to see them all the time. I watch them chasing each other off, hunting for little bugs, and yawning. Have you ever seen a hummingbird yawn? It is ridiculously cute!

In case you need a refresher, they are green with a white chest, and the males have a red gorget that flashes in the sunlight. The females have a light chin with dark around their eyes that looks like eyeliner connecting to their beak.
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Kansas does not see hummingbirds year-round. They are all starting to make their way to Southern Mexico and Central America for winter. I’ll miss them, but I find comfort in the fact that I will get to see them again in the spring. 

​Diplacus aurantiacus

Sticky Monkey Flowers were one of the first wildflowers I learned how to identify. They are so named because the flower supposedly looks like a monkey’s face, and its leaves produce a sticky resin, so if you aren’t sure, feel its leaves.  

It is an early bloomer, usually appearing in March. The most common varieties are yellow to orangish, but if you know where to look, you can also find red flowers. The photo included is one I took of a plant that had both!

They grow in drier ecosystems and are drought-tolerant, so even in low-flower years, you can still find Monkey Flowers.

I would include them amongst my favorite species to find. They are shrubs, so sometimes you can be lucky and spot a giant bush in bloom. Their smiling flowers make me happy and, as much as I abhor being sticky, even their tacky leaves bring me joy.
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My writing about them does not do them justice, so here are a bunch of photos for your perusal. 

​Danaus plexippus

Happy Monarch Migration Season, everyone!

Monarchs are one of the most instantly recognizable butterflies, in my opinion, unless you are looking at a Viceroy or a Painted Lady, or any number of other mimics. Because Monarch caterpillars eat milkweed, the adults are toxic to birds, so looking like a prey item that will make you sick helps similar-looking butterflies not get eaten.

But back to migration! The Monarch migration is one of the most enigmatic events in nature. When birds migrate, one individual is born, spends spring and summer in one place, travels in fall to where they overwinter, returns to the area where they were born, raises their own brood, and the cycle continues for the life of that individual. In Monarchs, it takes four generations to complete a migration.

Generation one is born somewhere in the United States, living two to six weeks, during which time they mate and lay eggs of generation two. Depending on whether these are Eastern or Western monarchs, populations one and two may venture east or north. Generations two and three tend to stay in the summer breeding grounds. Generation three lays the eggs of generation four, which is significantly larger than those of earlier generations. Gen Four enters reproductive diapause, meaning they don’t mate and lay eggs right away. They begin the migration to Mexico if they are in the east or Coastal California if they are in the west. This generation lives for nine months! The oyamel fir forests in central Mexico have become an ecotourism hotspot to see thousands, if not millions of Monarch butterflies alighting in the trees. In the spring, Gen four returns to the north, and the cycle repeats.

How does this happen? How is Gen three able to produce an enormous Gen four? How is Gen four able to live so long? How do they know where to go? I have several friends involved in Monarch research, and the short answer is, no one really knows.

One thing we do know is Monarch populations are drastically declining due to habitat loss and insecticide use. You can support Monarchs by planting native milkweed. Native is the key. Please avoid tropical milkweed. Also, don’t use insecticides. This will help not just Monarchs, but loads of other species.

Keep your eyes peeled for Monarchs heading south and wish them a successful journey!

​Mirounga angustirostris

The first time I saw a Northern Elephant Seal had to be at San Simeon. If you haven’t been, I highly recommend it! This massive colony of Ellies, as they are affectionately called, always has something going on. You might see the massive Beachmaster males fighting for territory, the females trying to get away from them, the teen males pretending to be tough stuff, or, if you are very lucky, a little baby being born. They all have different sounds, depending on age and sex. The large males sound like a sewer pipe draining, the babies sound like angry Muppets, and the females are somewhere in between. I could watch them for hours. My mother was even a docent there when she lived in Cambria.

When I moved back to California, during my interview at California Wildlife Center (CWC), they had an Ellie weaner (recently weaned baby) in care. I had never seen one up close before! He had very deep, dark eyes and a bowling ball head. I would soon become deeply acquainted with these babies.

We probably treated more than 100 babies while I was at CWC. They were lazy and feisty at the same time. During nap time, it would sound like they were snoring because their nostrils are naturally closed and they have to force them open to breathe, making a pishhh sound. This is an adaptation to help them during their deep dives for food. They were curious and would mash their squishy noses against the fence when you would walk by. I can’t tell you how tempting it was to boop the snoot. They also have large teeth, so that was an incentive not to. You also didn’t want to hang out too long by their snoots because when they would blow open their nostrils, snot often shot out.

These babies had to be taught how to eat fish. Once they were up to a healthy weight with the help of fish/piscivore smoothies, they were put in fish school. This involved sitting on them, holding up their massive heads, and shoving a fish head-first into their mouths. I got to do this once. They have a habit, when they are frustrated, of arching their backs and turning into a donut shape. I was literally sitting on this baby, and I am not small, and he still lifted me up with his donut move!

Once they know what fish are, we would feed them in shallow pools and then graduate them to the bigger pool. When we thought they had the hang of it, they would be returned to the ocean. This almost never went smoothly, as I mentioned, they can be lazy. We would open the crate, and they would not come out. They would yell and fight, and we would eventually have to dump them out. That led to donuts, more yelling, and tossing sand on their backs, which is something they would do to stay cool. The Ellies would not go in the water with us there, so we would have to hike back up to the parking lot and watch them from there. Some took HOURS to get the hint. Eventually, they would all venture out again.

Unless they were spotted at a rookery, we would never know how they fared. Anytime not on a beach was spent well out at sea, diving for more than 30 minutes at a time for deep-sea squid and fish. I recently learned you can track your own Elephant Seal with a Fahlo bracelet. Mine is named Kay, and she is out at sea west of Seattle.
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I miss working with these noisy, smelly Muppet seals. Any future visits to California have to include a trip to see Elephant Seals.