Exploring Nature in the San Francisco Bay Area
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Mount Davidson’s Iconic Eucalyptus Falls to the Wind

The view of Mount Davidson in San Francisco has been forever altered, now that its tall eucalyptus tree capping the summit is gone. Strong winds toppled the tree over on Sunday night.

I myself had no idea until I took a trip out there Monday morning on a tip that wild turkeys were seen in and about the area. I set off to the top of the mountain with camera in hand, noticing some animal trails and coyote scat and kept a attentive ear to any gobble calls. Reaching the summit, I came across a confusing scene – branches and limbs were all over the place. Apparently, 30-mile-an-hour winds overnight had knocked down the iconic big tree at the very top. No picture of the peak of Mt. Davidson is complete with out this landmark tree, and it fell over right onto a bench blocking the main viewing area that overlooks downtown.

The iconic eucalyptus at the summit of windy Mount Davidson, before it toppled over. Photo: Irene/flickr.
The iconic eucalyptus at the summit of windy Mount Davidson, before it toppled over. Photo: Irene/flickr.

Back home, I reached out to a community friend — Jacquie Proctor from San Francisco Forest Alliance — who helped me understand our local tree.

The amount of history tied to this very tree is astounding. After the Gold Rush, it was planted by California Governor Leland Stanford. It was a non-native eucalyptus, which served as a boundary marker between Stanford’s land and Adolph Sutro who owned the other half of Mount Davidson.

In the last few decades, besides being the jewel in the eye of many a many a painter and photographer, it became the focus of a community battle which ultimately killed the tree, long before it toppled over. Native plant advocates saw the tree as an example of how the city needed to change toward native plant varieties, while tree supporters saw it, and other eucalyptus as having become an important part of the city’s landscape. As the story goes, one particularly bold activist “girdled” the base of the tree, causing it to slowly die.

Even as a dead tree, this tree continued to have its admirers. Photographers such as myself loved the bare limbs, shaped by the wind and a key element of our composition as we aimed our cameras at downtown San Francisco. The bench it fell on was made and put there by the local Boy Scouts and Proctor remembers bringing a swing to attach for her children to enjoy.

The eucalyptus tree when it was still alive in 2001. Photo: Ron Proctor.
The eucalyptus tree when it was still alive in 2001. Photo: Ron Proctor.

I was not surprised to see an Instagram following for this very tree at #thatsftree.

David Cruz is a San Francisco-based photographer and contributor to Bay Nature.

Spotting the subject of legends, the common poorwill

It was a cold sunset and I carried my camera while fellow photographer Jorge Bravo lighted our way. We were searching for birds at Butano State Park in San Mateo County when, nearly ready to bail, we came across a small object along the side of the road.

The roads around the park are fairly desolate, so any sign of a bird ruffled our feathers, so to speak. Our flashlight illuminated a common poorwill, an elusive and very special sight in the Bay Area. Expert birders can go years without spotting or photographing one locally.

Its name, you could argue, is a poor substitute for the many other names it’s called. Nighthawk, whip-poor-will, goat sucker, frogmouth, turtlemouth, dragon bird, “gargola” (or gargoyle bird in Mexico) — the common poorwill is the subject of legends. Often confused with an owl or small hawk, its official Latin name, “Caprimulgidae,” translates into “goatsucker.”

Common poorwill, Butano State Park, San Mateo County. Photo: David Cruz.
Common poorwill, Butano State Park, San Mateo County. Photo: David Cruz.

In mythology, its turtle-like beak has been described as hiding fangs, and could be the mistaken culprit in bizarre Chupacabra bird news reports. In the Southwest U.S. and Mexico, Native American storytellers recite tales of the bird shapeshifting into a shaman. Other stories describe sighting these birds as omens of impending death.

But this is an actual bird, a nocturnal insect eater and member of the nightjar family that lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, making its home in dry, grassy open areas. It’s the only bird species known to go into torpor during winter for extended periods from weeks to months, in a state similar to hibernation. The common poorwill is a mysterious and eerie bird, unknown to most Bay Area locals.

This little bird represents the biodiversity and hidden treasures we share in our beautiful Bay Area nature.

Folklore (source: Wiki):

  • “In 1804, Meriwether Lewis observed hibernating Common Poorwills in North Dakota during the Lewis and Clark Expedition.”
  • “The Hopi word for the bird means “The Sleeping One”.
  • H.P. Lovecraft’s story “The Dunwich Horror” spread the belief that the Whip-poor-wills can sense impending death and will remain close to catch the departing soul as it leaves the body: “It is whispered that they linger and flutter around houses where death is approaching, hoping to catch the soul of the departed as it leaves.” (“The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories”, by H.P. Lovecraft, S.T. Joshi, New York, Penguin Books, 2001)

David Cruz is a San Francisco based wildlife photographer who has captured many stunning moments in Bay Area nature.