New Crew

Our Native Eyes journey has begun for another year. We're starting off separate from the RDNA village, so we gathered with just our Native Eyes group on the coast for intros and stories from Jon. Then we headed to last year's bird sit meadow for an introductory wander.


Our evening cookfire finally blazed to life after we cranked out three coals, using some of the above kits and tinder. Everything was damp and drippy in the redwoods. The unexpected chill of soaked-through sleeping bags and soggy sweatshirts set us a little on edge. Soon Jon Young, Paul Raphael, and Gerry Brady joined our fire and brightened up the evening with stories, jokes and songs.

The next morning we had our first bird sit. With camp so soggy, we decided to drive to a new location to debrief the sit under the shelter of some thick-canopied cypress trees. Some of our group saw an accipiter in the distance as we got out of the car, but didn't mention the sighting. The landscape, mostly Hypericum and stands of old Cypress, was quiet except for a few sparrow chips in the shrubs and Northern Flicker calls. We headed toward the same stand of woods that the accipiter was working, thinking more of dry ground than of birds.

As we finished our debrief, a Cooper's Hawk flew in under the canopy of trees to perch on a limb above us in the shadows, her dark back blending with the dark under the canopy. We watched in silence until she flew again. "Who heard her concentric rings?" someone asked when the hawk had gone. We talked about the Northern Flicker's "Clear!" call of alarm that still rang out, and the overall silence and distinct lack of song. With a flurry of wings, the Flicker that had been calling lit in the treetop above us, sunlight picking out the red in his feathers. A few calls of "Clear!" and he fluttered away, too, in the opposite direction as the hawk.


After lunch Molly and Greg led us in a trailing exercise. Two participants trailed Molly over the beach and dunes, and two others trailed Greg. We followed the trails into the ocean and out again. One group stayed together and took turns leading, while the other group divided and tracked separately. Only one group found their missing person in the allotted time.


Molly and Greg's trail led right by a tantalizing mystery. Three clumps of feathers lay near each other in the sand, and near them, the former owner of the feathers.





We puzzled over the pockmarks in the sand that accompany each clump of feathers, looked for tracks, found raven prints but nothing else discernible. We noticed that each clump was composed of a different type of feather. We discussed and came up with stories to narrate the sequence. But the question remains: Who killed this gull?