Illustrations by Jane Kim, text by Bay Nature staff.
Gull juju
Who doesn’t love a souvenir from their adventures? Western gulls (Larus occidentalis) routinely fly the 30ish miles from the mainland to the Farallon Islands, bringing with them all kinds of “gull juju,” as Point Blue Conservation Science biologists call it. “Gulls simply find something that may or may not be edible and swallow it. They then regurgitate it later when they are back on the colony,” writes Farallon program leader Pete Warzybok. He explains by quoting the great naturalist William Leon Dawson: “The Western gull asks only two questions of any other living thing: First, ‘Am I hungry?’ (Ans., ‘Yes,’) Second, ‘Can I get away with it?’ (Ans., ‘I’ll try.’)”
The Farallones’ Western gulls have pulled one over on: “a variety of army men, Winnie-the-Poohs, Lego characters, rubber duckies,” along with a key, a button, marbles, a golf ball, a cigarette lighter, and a creepy baby doll leg, according to a Point Blue dispatch.
Point Blue researchers have studied the islands year-round and Western gulls during nesting season, from April through August, for nearly six decades, but that may change. They are currently grappling with federal funding cuts that were first announced in 2024. This calls for more than juju.
Head trip
Some journeys aren’t about distance, but time and the availability of one’s favorite snacks. For the stinging, spine-covered caterpillars of the elegant sheepmoth (Hemileuca eglanterina), ceanothus and coffeeberry rank high on the food love list. After eating their fill in spring, each caterpillar hunkers down in a silk cocoon. Starting in July, a spectacular pink-and-orange adult emerges, transformational journey complete. Look for these large moths during the day, flapping their wings continuously, erratically bobbing about.
Are we there yet?
Other trips are unusually slow. The travel time for ark clam (Anadara trilineata) shells—whose bivalve residents died on the Pacific seafloor an average of five million years ago—to reach the coastal bluffs between Point Reyes National Seashore and Santa Cruz clocks in at millions of years. These ancient clams, along with fossilized gastropods, barnacles, and whale and seal bones, peek from outcroppings at many beaches and whisper, “There is no destination—it’s all a journey, silly.”
All aboard
Whatever your opinions about opossums (Didelphis virginiana)—yes, they carry diseases and may enjoy your fruit and vegetable garden before you do—a mother possum is a shoo-in for the “most adorable form of ground transportation” award. Once her babies finish nursing in her marsupial pouch and it gets crowded for the growing gang, the young will climb to their mother’s back, sometimes up to 13 of them! Clutching her fur, they will ride the mama possum train for several summer weeks, glimpsing highlights of the adulting ahead.
Thumbs out
Arguably an early adopter of hitchhiking, California oatgrass (Danthonia californica) may climb aboard your sock this summer. This native bunchgrass drops its seeds in July and August, and a skinny thumb growing from each seed covering will grab hold of passing furry legs or sweaty socks for a free ride. Called an awn, this thumb coils and uncoils when it gets wet and then dries, scrunching it ever so slightly toward a spot in which to germinate.
Sign up today!
Thermals
The sun beats down, the land warms up, and heat rises, creating columns of hot air that shoot skyward. These thermal columns are the e-bikes of flying for raptors, especially turkey vultures (Cathartes aura). Spreading their wings, raptors harness the column’s energy, soaring in circles while the rising air pushes them higher and higher, never beating a wing. From there, vultures scan for carcasses or wait to catch a whiff of one on the wind.
