Meeting the Neighbors
We recently moved from San Francisco to Pacifica. It's just 10 miles down the coast, but a change of environment is always unsettling. Learning the neighborhood characters, who's claimed what street parking and getting comfortable with the feel of the place.
Competing in the Bay Area housing market was nutty. The stress of constantly checking Zillow and reading disclosures led to many nights of fretful sleep. This dissolved completely when we finally picked up our keys. Walking through the empty rooms and imagining the possibilities and our next chapter. Exploring the backyard we found an empty birds nest in the rafters of our shelter. The nest owners had moved out too then. Even so, knowing we had bird activity - potentially breeding bird activity - excited me to the experiences we'd have in our own yard. I wondered what birds had lived in that nest? It was sizable, maybe finches? I'd honestly take anything. Laying on the grass that first afternoon in the heat, I listened to the sounds of the new neighborhood. The Ravens were cawing, a melodic musing of a finch rang through and gulls passed overhead reminding me of our proximity to the ocean.
A dusk stroll around the neighborhood that evening was accompanied by a wall of cicadas chattering - a noise I had forgotten about whilst living in the city. It conjured up vivid memories of childhood vacations to the Mediterranean, and briefly made me question if this was my permanent home or a fleeting visit to an exotic location. Returning back to reality I felt an immense satisfaction that all those years later, I lived in a place little me would've thought of as a holiday home. For that moment I had made it. At the end of the street a hill rises up and is carpeted by a grove of Cypress trees. My imagination ran wild as to what might live up in there. As if in reply, a triplet of deep hoots carried under the insect chattering. I knew that sound well. I thought we were lucky having Great-Horned Owls behind us in Twin Peaks, to hear them so soon in our new neighborhood I took as a good sign.
We watched our new garden throughout the day after permanently moving in and quickly became familiar with a pair of Anna's hummingbirds. They whizzed and bobbed from the front to the back yard, then way up high over the plum tree and away into the sky. We'd often startle them around the rose bushes as we came and went to the front door, then see a torpedo whizz across the front path and off to a safer location. The pair attempted to make this their permanent home, though they chose a precarious nesting location. Wedged in between a couple of bare branches in an exposed tree, completely exposed to the elements and observation. We'd often see the birds stage in, first to the pear tree, then up into the nest itself. Their little faces just peeking over the rim of the tiny mound of sticks. After a rough piece of weather that made me question whether our new home would hold together, we found the nest fallen onto the lawn. A delicate, densely woven basket, just lying strewn on the ground. I placed it back in the branches in hopes they might sit back on it again, but they never did. After leaving it in the tree a little longer, and seeing the nest fall back out onto the grass again, I finally let it go and tossed it into the compost. I wondered if these birds were new to breeding. They still frequent our yard and get startled by our coming and going, so maybe they'll try again next year, a little wiser.
Anna’s Hummingbird nesting precariously in our yard.
Black Phoebes were plentiful in our yard too, perching on all too thin foliage, succulents and bare branches. Their pit syllable calls gave them away when we weren't looking, alerting us to tail bobbing and pumping likely going on outside. I was surprised to see them fly-catching over the lawn, taking off from a perch, dipping and turning in a tight circle to land back where they came from. Our lawn is prime feeding territory given the cloud of insects that emerge in the wake of the lawn mower. We could identify one Phoebe in particular too, the giveaway being a white patch above the left eye that gave pirate vibes. One day this individual returned with two others, I guessed her mate and a juvenile. They bounced about the foliage, a pair on one tree watching another on a lower perch. It was nice to see our pirate Phoebe return with a family. Those warm vibes lasted only so long though, these Phoebes were trouble! They desecrated shrub and patio chairs alike below their perches with waste. Hastily made chair covers from tea-towels prevented direct soiling, but if we forget to put them on it's a mess! Now I'm considering a faux hawk or owl just to keep the little sods at bay.
We've already met a wealth of bird life after four months in our new home. The prophetic, the encouraging, the infuriating. We plan on being here for a while, and I'm sure the birds will keep showing up. A few more years and a few more memories we're excited to meet.
