Yesterday I went on my iNativersary walk with nine friends, to celebrate the ninth year of iNatting for me. My iNativersary personal practice is to go somewhere local that I've never visited before, or never iNat-ted before, and do a mini-blitz with my friends.
We had a lovely day along the trail system, where the fog belt has contributed to some plants blooming later than in the rest of the county, like Ceanothus. There was an abundance of Red Beard Lichen (Usnea rubiconda) and many Monterey Pines scattered around the coastal terrace prairie. The two trails we took - the South Ridge Trail and the Arroyo Trail - form a natural loop. The South Ridge Trail is largely elevated and open, with some steep climbs but remarkable views. The Arroyo Trail is at a lower elevation, with more plant variety.
While birds were not omnipresent, due largely to the season, we had an unusually high number of found feathers. Many of them - at widely separated locations - were of Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus). It makes me want to come back and listen/look for them at some twilight hour, especially in late winter/early spring. Many members of my group were also convinced that this could be a bonanza for fungi and slime molds come winter.
Many thanks to my amazing iNat community on this walk: @dpom , @elkman22 , @virusmanbob , @sea-kangaroo @cmaci , @christinnew , @tui , @merav and John E.
Today, after yesterday's iNat immersion, I had other work to get to, and then I delayed exercise-walking to watch the end pf Tyler Gilbert's no-hitter for Arizona against San Diego. By the time I left the house for my neighborhood walk it was 7:45 pm, and most birds had gone to roost.
To meet my exercise goal, I did not want to stop too much, but to meet my iNat minimum of one entry/day, I had to stop somewhere - and soon, as it was getting dark. On Bucknell Drive, I spotted a cultivated neighborhood tree with Gold Dust Lichen (Chrysothrix candelaris) on the trunk. I got set to take the picture, when a fly came in.
I have a category of observations that I have playfully named "Random Diptera" sightings. Most of these are a few common Calyptera species that land in my way. But I've learned some things by concentrating on flies - patience, slow movement, and trying for multiple angles to get the shape of the body. This fly, though, defeated me. It would stand perfectly still, but I was literally having a difficult time telling the head from the tail. The posture and behavior were odd. The fly itself was about 60% the size of a Lucilla species. iNat has tentatively identified it as in the genus of Woodpecker Flies (Medetera).
It was only the combination of disciplines - Exercise, my eBird and iNat streaks, my ongoing attention to flies, and the serendipity of stopping when and where I did - that made this possible. Before I practiced such things, how much escaped my attention, both actually and metaphorically?