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!
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 in the image—all of… Read more: The Shape of Flight
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… Read more: A Visit with Pomo Basket Maker Susan Billy
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… Read more: Now You See Me: The Art of Disappearing Among the Bay Area’s Birdlife
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… Read more: Birds in the Hand: The Apprentices of Palomarin
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 were hoisted… Read more: Data, Wind, and Wing: Conservation Science on the Farallon Islands
