By Mary Cristy
A View from the Hills
A walk along the man-made lake at Shoreline is a stress reliever in time of trouble. I make time to stroll leisurely. No power walk, or goal-oriented outing. Just laid-back meandering to savor a landscape of blue waters, azure skies, green grass, and drooping willows with clipped hairlines reminiscent of little boys whose mothers have inverted a bowl on their head and cut their hair.
My fellow-hiker Pat is the perfect companion for such rambles. Pat is funny and witty with a happy disposition that lets her see the “positive and eliminate the negative.” I learn a lot about coping, and embracing life from Pat.
Shoreline walks include a hot chocolate stop at the small cafe that overlooks the lake where one may watch windsurfers, paddle boats, and other craft. But for bird watching the patio at Michael’s restaurant, beside a table with a platter of leftover fries is the big show. What Siren songs were to Ulysses and his followers, french fries are to sea gulls. Our friend Alfred Lees, former Home Workshop editor of Popular Science magazine, who learned his craft at Stanford under author Wallace Stegner, and retired to circumnavigate the globe, believes nothing excites sea gulls more than “those golden arches.” Sea-gulls are McDonalds’ most voracious patrons. Al has witnessed sea gull raids on french fries “all over the world.”
While Shoreline visitors do heed “Please do not feed wildlife” signs, innocent patrons often walk away from plates of half-eaten fried potatoes, since portions are more than generous. Unless servers remove leftovers quickly, birds flock to the tables and the battle begins. .A sea gull swoops in to snatch a potato in its beak. But a red-winged blackbird covets leftovers too. Zooming in from a trellis to stand directly behind the diner, Blackie attacks the gull’s tail feathers. Undeterred, the sea gull scarfs on, though it looks nervous. The blackbird increases harassment, until a mean-tempered larger gull dives in, drives off the first two and begins its feast. In a heartbeat, a colorful towhee flits down behind the newcomer and begins pecking its tail feathers The play ends when a server comes to collect the plate.
Our subsequent visit to Michaels’ was rewarded by a Keystone Cops-type episode in which five blackbirds and a cowbird vied for one potato. Its possessor, a red-winged blackbird, had snatched and flown off with it, but instead of remaining aloft, landed on the patio, let the prize drop and began to feast. Instantly six birds invited themselves to the picnic. What followed was a chase that would do credit to an old silent cliffhanger. With six birds in hot pursuit the potato bearer fled from one refuge to another. At each stop it dropped the potato, lunged at it, took a panic-stricken bite, then picked it up and, trailed by the gang of six, rushed off with it again. Pat and I concluded the bird with the prize was not bright. Why didn’t it use its wings? Simply fly away? Perhaps this was an avian game of potato potato,who’s got the potato?.
When we left, laughing all the way, the determined little blackbird appeared to be getting the better part of the bargain. That bird would be a winner in a footrace with an Olympic contender.
Each season brings new flocks to Shoreline. Canada geese stop there, and resident mud hens, mallard ducks, and egrets. At neighboring Baylands, pelicans and great white herons may be seen. While bird-watching, strolling, and pausing to note and savor a progression of migrants, peace, laughter, and health become by-products.
Cristy, a Los Altos Hills resident, has been writing for the Town Crier for more than 40 years. Her column is published the first week of the month.
