Through the partially opened windows of a blind I watch a
misty morning fog whip across a colony of murres at Sea Lion Cove (SLC).
Clutched to the ground and huddled tight, feathers ruffled in the cool salty
breeze, several hundred Common Murres sit and incubate their mint green
speckled eggs. Unable to leave these eggs unattended, they endure the
persistent abuse of harsh spring winds and the occasional plastering of chalky
pink uric acid (bird shit) from their neighbors above. Although some colonies
on the island have already begun hatching chicks, the SLC birds have several
weeks ahead before incubation ends and the duties of chick rearing begin.
Fringing the clustered patches of murres are Brandt’s
Cormorants atop large nest bowls of woven dry Farallon Weed and algae. The
early efforts of displaying males have paid off, as they now have switched
gears and share the role of incubating a clutch of up to five eggs with their
mates. Like the murres, it is early yet for the arrival of chicks, with some
late males still flashing their brilliant blue gular pouches and setting up
nests by stealing material from adjacent birds.
Western Gulls are reaching a new level of aggression as
their chicks begin to emerge. The sheer volume and frequency of their combined
screams render it virtually impossible for rational thought, as if our IQ
immediately drops substantially upon exiting the relative peaceful calm of the
house. Simply calling them loud would be a grouse understatement. Coupled with
the acoustic trauma of their calls are the physical attacks. One most always
wear a helmet when walking about the island now, for the solid yellow beaks and
dive bomb swoops will surely draw blood to the unprotected cranium. A few days back while attaching a temporary
band to the tarsus of a freshly hatched gull chick, I was continuously swooped
by the angry parent overhead; my helmet nearly knocked away by the force of the
birds impacts. This will become a common occurrence as the season progresses
and more chicks break free of their calcite encasements.
Through the partially opened windows of a blind I watch a
misty morning fog whip across a colony of murres at Sea Lion Cove (SLC).
Clutched to the ground and huddled tight, feathers ruffled in the cool salty
breeze, several hundred Common Murres sit and incubate their mint green
speckled eggs. Unable to leave these eggs unattended, they endure the
persistent abuse of harsh spring winds and the occasional plastering of chalky
pink uric acid (bird shit) from their neighbors above. Although some colonies
on the island have already begun hatching chicks, the SLC birds have several
weeks ahead before incubation ends and the duties of chick rearing begin. 
Fringing the clustered patches of murres are Brandt’s
Cormorants atop large nest bowls of woven dry Farallon Weed and algae. The
early efforts of displaying males have paid off, as they now have switched
gears and share the role of incubating a clutch of up to five eggs with their
mates. Like the murres, it is early yet for the arrival of chicks, with some
late males still flashing their brilliant blue gular pouches and setting up
nests by stealing material from adjacent birds. 
Western Gulls are reaching a new level of aggression as
their chicks begin to emerge. The sheer volume and frequency of their combined
screams render it virtually impossible for rational thought, as if our IQ
immediately drops substantially upon exiting the relative peaceful calm of the
house. Simply calling them loud would be a grouse understatement. Coupled with
the acoustic trauma of their calls are the physical attacks. One most always
wear a helmet when walking about the island now, for the solid yellow beaks and
dive bomb swoops will surely draw blood to the unprotected cranium. A few days back while attaching a temporary
band to the tarsus of a freshly hatched gull chick, I was continuously swooped
by the angry parent overhead; my helmet nearly knocked away by the force of the
birds impacts. This will become a common occurrence as the season progresses
and more chicks break free of their calcite encasements. 
