Natural Perspectives -- Vic Leipzig and Lou Murray
Vic Leipzig and Lou Murray
Yesterday marked the vernal equinox, the midpoint between the winter
and summer solstices. At the vernal equinox, the earth’s axis is
perpendicular to the sun. Night and day are both exactly 12 hours long.
Now days will grow longer, reaching maximum daylight at the summer
solstice. In other words, spring has sprung.
The vernal equinox was traditionally a time to celebrate renewal of
life on earth. It was the time to plant spring crops. Pagan fertility
symbols of eggs and rabbits were used in spring rites. Even now, we
welcome spring and the return of the life-giving sun with chocolate
rabbits and dyed eggs. Even if you missed the cues Mother Nature has been
displaying, you can’t miss the colorful racks of stuffed rabbits and
chicks and chocolate bunnies and eggs in the stores.
One thing we hear over and over is that Southern California has no
seasons. That isn’t true. We have pansies and snapdragons in the winter
and petunias and marigolds in the summer. Just as we have winter and
summer flowers, we have winter birds and summer birds. The change of
seasons becomes obvious if you know where to look.
True, the temperatures in our wonderful coastal climate don’t vary
much between summer and winter. We just trade in our wool Speedos and
bikinis for nylon ones when winter blends effortlessly into summer. We
turn on the Weather Channel and see snow blanketing the ground in the
upper Midwest and realize once again how lucky we are to live in
Huntington Beach.
While the change of seasons is more subtle here than in the East and
Midwest, keen observers of nature have seen it coming for weeks. The
young California sea hares that crawled into Bolsa Bay in early February
have doubled in size. They mated last week and laid the first of the
season’s egg clusters by the tide gates. Colorful striped sea hares,
predatory five-inch long marine slugs that were also absent from the
Bolsa Chica over the winter, are back as well. They mated and laid egg
clusters at the fishing dock in Percy Park last week.
Thousands of shorebirds that fattened all winter on the worms and
clams of Bolsa Bay have responded to the change in day length. In early
March, they became more active, more restless. Many of them have already
left on their northward journey to breeding grounds in Alaska and Canada.
In a month or so, many of the sandpipers and plovers in the Bolsa Chica
will be gone, replaced in the Ecological Reserve by terns that are
migrating here from South and Central America.
Swallows are beginning to make an appearance. Tree swallows, the first
to arrive, are already nesting at San Joaquin Marsh in Newport Beach.
Northern rough-winged swallows are coming in also. Last week, the first
barn swallows of the season swooped over the newly restored mudflat at
Warner Avenue and Pacific Coast Highway, scooping up some of the
thousands of midges that had just hatched. During the windstorm last
Thursday, hundreds of swallows and swifts swirled over town, carried
northward on the wind.
A walk through Huntington Central Park reveals tiny new leaves
emerging on the willows. Leaves on the sycamores are as big as the palm
of a hand. By midsummer, they’ll be the size of dinner plates. The lovely
flowering cherry trees given to us by our sister city, Anjo, Japan grace
the newly green grass with clouds of pink blossoms. Even the eucalyptus
are green. Attacked all last summer by invading lerp psyllids, the trees
grew new leaves in September. They grew new foliage during the winter
while the psyllids were dormant. The insects will grow as the weather
warms and the eucalyptus will continue their battle for life.
One thing a walk through Central Park may not yield this year is the
chorus of Pacific tree frogs. This has been a very dry year. Huntington
Lake is a mere puddle on the grass and Talbert Lake is low. Without
water, the frogs don’t mate. And if they don’t mate, they don’t lay eggs
and there are no tadpoles. The experts tell us that El Nino is coming, so
next year may be wetter. The frogs and ducks will like that.
Eggs are a symbol of spring because that’s when birds nest. All over
town, crows are carrying sticks to build nests in tall trees. A pair of
great horned owls nests most years on the roof of the library in Central
Park. The gangly young owls hang out in the trees around the library most
of the spring.
The wetlands and parks aren’t the only places where you’ll find signs
of spring. If you look in your own yard, you might be surprised to find
nesting birds. We usually have Allen’s hummingbirds and bushtits nesting
in our yard as well as house sparrows and finches and an occasional pair
of mourning doves.
Take the time this spring to truly enjoy and appreciate the wonder of
nature. Take a walk through Central Park. Enjoy a stroll on the loop
trail around Inner Bolsa Bay and the sand dunes, or walk along the mesa
by Outer Bolsa Bay. Dye some eggs, bite the ears off a chocolate rabbit
and rejoice in the annual renewal of life on Planet Earth.
* VIC LEIPZIG PhD and LOU MURRAY PhD are Huntington Beach residents
and environmentalists. They can be reached at o7 [email protected] .
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