Apartment Complex Birding
I moved to California from Upstate New York, into a large apartment complex in the Bay Area. Four large rectangular, beige buildings, serenaded by the gentle rumble of the freeway. Offsetting these urban features were a border of bushes, lawns and tree’s that ran between the blocks, providing a nice, albeit small, refuge of greenery. On first looking out of my apartment balcony, I was struck by four thin yet robust redwoods that towered overhead. These iconic Californian trees got my juices flowing - what birding projects could be done just from the balcony? Four years later, the “Birds of my Balcony” project still hadn’t materialized, and I was moving out. Despite this missed opportunity, I had unknowingly participated in another project: unexpected bird encounters within my home area. These moments remind me how birds bring the natural world into urban spaces and disrupt our routines in delightful ways. Here are a few of my favorites.
Early in my stay, I would head out to my car in the back parking lot and occasionally hear a very odd crackling noise. A noise I could only describe as dial up internet-esque, but of a higher pitch and perhaps a bit softer. Odd I thought, but the noise would always stop soon after. A brief glance around the area showed nothing out of the ordinary. I’d return, get out of my car, and sometimes the noise would be back. I’d glance up at the electrical cables running overhead, and glance down at the sewer drains, nothing again. On one occasion, the crackling persisted. I followed the noise across the parking lot to a lone tree in a green outcrop. The noise was definitely coming from up there, but what the heck was it? Intense staring and inspection began. Momentarily, I resolved a tiny delicate bird. Long beaked, green hue and eyes that made the whole thing look like a cartoon. It sat comfortably, before squeaking the dial-up noise I had been hearing all along! I now know this Anna’s Hummingbird much better, but tracking one down from noise alone for the first time was a bewildering experience. Many Anna’s frequented the grounds, licking up nectar from flowers and buzzing like a tiny fans across the paths, but that first encounter and solving the mystery sticks in my mind the most.
While the grounds presented plentiful habitat for tiny birds, I was surprised to find much larger Raptors stop by. One afternoon, as I headed out for a run, a small Coopers hawk perched on a concrete plinth next to the stairs at the entrance to my building. It looked somewhat disgruntled. I stopped, and took stock. This hawk didn’t seem bothered by my presence, despite its grumpy demeanor. I even had the time to pull out my phone and take a few pictures (or so I thought, I can no longer find them), and was close enough that the result wasn’t a 4 pixel haze. We stood off for a good ten seconds, before he finally soared away. Why close encounters like this occur only when you’re on the way somewhere (without a camera) is beyond me. Another occurred on an otherwise unremarkable morning. I made my weekday pilgrimage from the front door to my car. Snaking through the brown corridors out of the building on autopilot. I emerged out into the light of day. From the same location where I saw the Coopers hawk, a shadow moving across the sky grabbed my attention. Cruising above the neighboring building, a large bird flapped a heavy flight. Talons carrying a branch as it drifted off out of sight. A Bald Eagle! I felt like Ash in the Pokemon anime, when he spots the legendary bird Ho-oh flying off overhead into a rainbow. That was my first Bald Eagle in the Bay Area, having only ever seen them in the forests of Lassen and the isles of Vancouver. To see this majestic bird next to a concrete box on a weekday morning before work, now that knocked me out of auto-pilot.
Sometimes gangs of birds would gather in the complexes bushes. After returning from a trip to Morro Bay, satisfied after a fruitful long weekend of nature, we made the final maneuver to park. As we pulled in, rambunctious jostling in a nearby Toyon bush produced flashes of yellow breasts and black masks. Cedar Waxwings! We parked and grabbed the camera. I was very excited to see these big personality birds again, especially in “my own backyard” so to speak. Disappointment - in the 30 seconds from spotting them to returning, the birds had vanished, leaving no evidence at the scene of the crime…Had we got a photo of them, the highlight of the Morro Bay trip may have been in the home parking lot!
The day I moved out, I was again out in those front steps of the building, shuttling furniture and boxes to my car. Townsend Warblers and White-crowned Sparrows flitted between the trees, and I was satisfied that my birding had progressed in 4 years where I could notice and name them. Taking a break from lifting, I listened to sweet songs from a canopied tree. Moving to the wall at the top of the stairs, I inadvertently flushed a flock of Lesser Goldfinches from their perches. A wave of yellow and chorus of cheeping swept from the tree in front of me, to a less leaved tree about 15 ft to the right. I moved down the stairs, in order to survey the scene again. Another trail of golden hues and crescendo of chirping and the birds flocked back the 15ft they had come to the first tree. I see how this is going to be… Not wanting to bother the Goldfinches, and with a few more things to load up, I got back to work. About a half hour later, I moved out for good.
While the Goldfinches ended my birding adventures within the complex, I’m excited for the new ones that will undoubtedly come. With its mix of small green spaces, escaped Parakeets and urban sprawl, San Francisco offers a perfect place to continue to explore urban birding. I have already dreamt up projects to pursue in the city. Whether or not these materialize, I’m sure the birds will find a way to find me and in 4 years I’ll have another set of encounters to share.
