Stories
Over the course of a year, our book team crisscrossed the Bay Area—rising before dawn, hiking into tucked-away wetlands, and spending long hours with binoculars and cameras in hand. Along the way, we visited hidden birding spots and learned from field scientists, local guides, and passionate birders. Some of those adventures made their way into our book. The rest are here. As we continue to explore and learn, we’ll keep adding to this collection—celebrating our local birds and the community that loves them. Follow along!
by Hannah Hindley
As I write this, I’m far from the “shadow of the bridge,” sitting on the opposite side of the country as San Francisco Bay. Windows open, I can hear the Atlantic lapping at the shore of Brighton Beach…
by Hannah Hindley
The first sign came in the darkness, long after sunset on a cool evening in early September. I lay in my Berkeley home, windows open to catch the bay breeze, when I heard them—the shrill, rattling cries of Elegant Terns cutting through the night air…
by Hannah Hindley
In a photo that Dick Evans recently snapped, a Black Phoebe swoops low over a pond at Las Gallinas. The green surface of the water is dimpled from the movement of the bird’s wings; the phoebe’s feathers splay out in a translucent fan. A single bead of flung water is suspended…
by Hannah Hindley
When Dick Evans and I emerged from the Ornithology Collection on our research visit to the California Academy of Sciences, we found ourselves wandering the halls of the academy, reluctant to leave, our heads buzzing with new information. We ducked into an exhibit in a side room, where bright displays shone in luminous cases along …
Before dawn on a cold February morning, we climb into the Point Blue survey boat and push off under a starry sky. Petaluma Marsh is quiet but not still. Our puffy jackets rustle in the icy breeze. A slow-rising tide seeps among the pickleweed. Somewhere out in the brackish channels of the marsh, a Ridgway’s …
by Hannah Hindley
At the edge of the continent, where the Pacific Ocean meets the wooded ridges of Bolinas, morning fog clings to the coyote brush and thrush songs filter through the Douglas firs. Here, the apprentices have begun their morning circuit at the Palomarin Field station. The nets are set before first light, stretching like silk threads …
by Hannah Hindley
As we approached aboard the Salty Lady, the Farallon Islands rose like ghosts out of the Pacific: jagged, fog-bound sentinels. Their granite flanks were streaked white with guano, and the wind carried the sharp cry of seabirds over the swell. With no dock or landing beach, we loaded onto a small skiff and …