In grassy edges of serpentine chaparral north above meadow behind 10,000 Pine Flat Rd
~2 miles up Pine Flat Rd, on large serpentine road-cut just past neighbors stone gate. Viewed with Frederic Leist & Dan Noreen.
1 plant, nearby is one P. elongata
While walking and looking at the bright pink bark and unfurling old bark, we saw the leaves were starting the drop. The light rain on the dry leaves made an amazing sound almost like trickling water. A story was told from a gal who lives in the area. One year she happened to be outside in the summer when, a heavy fog came through her madrones. She heard cracking and breaking and noticed that the tree's bark, with that little bit of moisture, started cracking open and peeling back, revealing the bright bark underneath. I hope someday to see that.
Only heard one call, one time, far off the meadow we were walking through.
Heard these as well -- I didn't sight any.
Caught them at a glance flying away but mostly heard their calls.
Heard, did not see. Becoming familiar with their ping-pong-like song. The birding experts I was with agreed they were wrentits.
Driving down the mountain, I met with a male, a female and three babies right in the road. Mom and Dad flew from the road onto the hillside which required a bit of height to get over the tall grass boarder between the road and the hill. One of the babies followed. The other two were thoroughly confused and all they could do is run downhill on the road away from my creeping car. Rolling down the window I could see the rest of the family following my car from the hill, calling to the two babies urging them to fly off the road but they wouldn't. It took 6-7 minutes for the babies to run to a spot that was thin enough for them to dive in the brush and run up the hill to be reunited.
I saw three total. The male was alone down in the brush jumping from downed branch to branch. Later along the dried creek, we saw a mother grosbeak feeding her fledgling who was perched on a branch, fluttering its wings endlessly with it's head thrown back. Mom would swoop down, towards the creekbed, for what we couldn't see, then fly back and feed her young. We watched for a long, long time.
It's a tarweed. Species?