California Birding: A Sentimental Journey Home
Brown pelicans skim ocean waves off the coast of Pacific Grove, California.
December 14, 2018
Home. The word means different things to different people. For some, it can be as impersonal as a place to return to each night. For others, it is a combination of complicated emotions. However, "home sweet home" and "there's no place like home" express most people's fondness for where they grew up. Our senses often trigger a memory of home, like the fragrance of a particular flower that reminds you of your mother's garden or the lyrical cadence of a bird you heard growing up. For me, the sight, sound and smell of the Pacific Ocean conjure up memories of California. It is where I grew up, exploring beaches up and down the coast, scrambling over boulders near my Grandmother's house in Santa Cruz and sailing in San Francisco Bay. Even though I've lived in Arizona for over 20 years, I still consider California my home, and I jump at any opportunity to visit with my family. Thanksgiving with family in Pacific Grove gave me that chance.
We chose to drive out rather than fight the crowds flying to Thanksgiving destinations, breaking up the 10+ hour drive from Phoenix into two days. Motoring through Los Angeles is never a joy ride, but once through the congestion of Southern California, we enjoyed the green fields and golden hills of California’s agricultural region. The Central Valley is one of the most productive areas in the world, providing more than half of the fruits, vegetables and nuts grown in the United States. It is a flat valley, about 40-60 miles wide, that stretches approximately 450 miles inland from and parallel to the Pacific Ocean coast. We rolled past acres of emerald green fields, thick orchards of fruit and nut trees and grapevines planted in neat rows that marched up and down the rolling hills as far as the eye could see. The vines were losing their leaves for the winter, creating a lovely patchwork of rich colors that delighted the eye.
Driving through the Central Valley of California, grapevines were planted as far as the eye could see.
By the time we reached the Carmel Valley, it was lightly raining, but that didn’t stop us from sitting outside under a covered, heated patio, enjoying the delicious wines of the Georis Winery and catching up with family, our collective dogs at our feet. The air was sweet and moist with the heady scent of wine barrels, rain-soaked soil, fragrant pines and fresh sea air. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs as though I hadn’t taken a real breath in years; I was home.
Pacific Grove sits on a knob of land that juts out into Monterey Bay and is sandwiched between the cities of Monterey and Pebble Beach. It is known as the location of the Point Piño Lighthouse, the oldest continuously operating lighthouse on the West Coast, and its charming Victorian homes and historic buildings. In fact, according to Wikipedia, the town has more historical houses per capita than anywhere else in California. The village also dubbed itself "Butterfly Town U.S.A." due to the number of monarch butterflies that pass through during migration each October. After summering in the Rocky Mountains, these monarchs migrate 2,000 miles to Pacific Grove, often soaring as high as 10,000 feet. There's no doubt in my mind as to why they return to such a beautiful spot each year!
Sunrise from Asilomar State Marine Preserve.
During our stay, I tiptoed down the stairs each morning with my binoculars and camera and walked out to explore the area. It was cold and damp, but I hardly noticed. I walked the paths and beaches of Asilomar State Marine Preserve, soaking in the salty air and sound of waves breaking against the rocky shore while gulls screamed overhead. I struggled to identify the shorebirds and gulls perched, floating, wheeling and diving around me and delighted in the graceful flight of the otherwise awkward-looking Brown Pelicans as they skimmed the tops of waves inches from the water. I walked the neighborhood under impossibly tall eucalyptus and oak trees. Townsend's Warblers, American Crows, California Scrub-Jays, Chestnut-backed Chickadees, Bushtits and several species of woodpecker flitted around me, their tweets, chirps and drumbeats mingling together in Nature's ultimate ensemble.
I walked the paths and beaches of Asilomar State Marine Preserve, soaking in the salty air and sound of waves breaking against the rocky shore while gulls screamed overhead.
Over our five-day visit, I saw an incredible 291 bird species – if you count the mounted birds at the Pacific Grove Museum of Natural History, where we spent one rainy afternoon! The museum has existed since 1883 and was among America's first natural history museums. Its mission is to "inspire discovery, wonder and stewardship of our natural world," and they do an excellent job. My observation of live birds was far more modest: 58 species, ten of which were new life birds for me. Not bad, considering birding was not the primary purpose of our trip!
Although the Central Coast of California isn't exactly where I grew up, being surrounded by family and sharing time-honored traditions is all about coming home. Being able to bird was the icing on the cake.
A gentleman named Kendal Rob said it best: "Home is where you go to find solace from the ever-changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return."
Driving through the Central Valley of California.
Considering the size of California and the wide variety of habitats – deserts, mountains, inland marshes, fog-shrouded forests and the Pacific coastline – it's no wonder that birders have recorded over 650 species of birds in the state. They are drawn to the 840-mile coast because it offers some of the best pelagic birding in the country and two species – the Yellow-billed Magpie and the Island Scrub-Jay – that are found nowhere else in the world.
Here are some of the species of birds I saw during my trip home.
