It had been a few weeks since my last significant photography outing. A visit to Point Reyes, my favorite place in the world, was in order. I would have been happy just to spend some time outdoors, even if I didn’t manage much photography. Instead, I was rewarded with one of the most magical days of wildlife photography I’ve ever experienced.
The day started typically enough. I spotted some Tule Elk bulls feeding near a ridge line. The bulls are just starting to regrow the antlers they shed earlier in the winter. I worked my way around to put them right on the ridge. After a few minutes, some younger bulls arrived to join them. I was waiting for everyone to line up so that I didn’t have overlapping animals, when the local ranchers’ domestic cows arrived to see if I had food for them. Not wanting to fend off a small herd of cows, I headed onward.
I spent the next hour checking out Burrowing Owl spots. Most of the owls appeared to have departed for the spring migration, but I found a couple of owls that were still enjoying life on the seashore.
As I continued my day, I ran into a friend parked by the side of the road. I pulled up to say hi, and he pointed out that he was watching an American Badger and a couple of Coyotes! The Coyotes had been digging into the badger’s hole earlier. Before I arrived, the Coyotes had given up and settled in for a nap. I didn’t get to see any interactions between the animals, but it was still cool to witness.
A light rain started, prompting the badger to disappear into its hole. My friend headed off to look for Bobcats. I took the opportunity to get into position and wait for the badger to re-emerge. Before too long, it did just that.
I even got to witness the badger remodeling its hole. Sadly some grasses got in the way of that perfect claw shot.
I also got some good looks at the Coyotes.
It started clouding over again, and the badger headed back into its hole. That was my cue to depart and check out another part of the park.
I knew of some owls that could sometimes be seen near a popular walking trail. I headed over to look for them, and was pleased to find them sitting right next to each other in some willows. Unfortunately, one of them was hidden in the branches. A tour group saw one of them regurgitate a pellet right after I turned away!
As I continued along the trail, I heard the distinctive buzzy call of a Marsh Wren. Marsh Wrens are easier to hear than to see, so I was very excited when I spotted it clambering around on some dead marsh grasses. I was even more excited when it flew out into the open! Unfortunately, it landed on an ugly metal fence post. Even on a magical outing, not everything goes quite your way.
After finishing on the trail, I got back on the road. I quickly came upon a car stopped in the travel lane. I looked out the window and saw a Coyote in the field. Since I was stopped behind them anyway, I took a quick photo. When I got home, I was surprised to find the Coyote was heterochromatic, with one blue eye and one brown eye. I’ve photographed blue-eyed Coyotes before, but never a Coyote with differently-colored eyes. Both eyes appeared to be working, so I think it might have been born this way.
At the time, I hadn’t realized how special this Coyote was, and my attention was quickly diverted when the other driver mentioned there was a Bobcat in the opposite field. Surprisingly, they didn’t go to photograph it. Maybe they had noticed the Coyote’s eyes and wanted to throw me off the scent. In any event, I was happy to pull over and see what I could make of the Bobcat.
I noticed that the Bobcat was working its way towards my right, nosing around for gophers. I got ahead of it and crouched down behind a fence. Just a few minutes later, the Bobcat sprang into action. I’m not sure if something on the road spooked it, or if it was hastening to find a gopher, but I was rewarded with a rare shot of a Bobcat running towards me. Normally if you see a Bobcat running it’s because it wants to get away from you or another large mammal like a Coyote.
In short order, the Bobcat stopped running and stalked up on a gopher hole. After coming up empty-handed from its pounce, it gave me that classic feline look that says “this is all your fault.”
The Bobcat decided to settle down for a brief nap, so I took the opportunity to make a wide circle to get the sun at my back. I got down low on the ground and waited, hoping the Bobcat would come my way. I think something on the road startled the Bobcat, because it sprang up and headed right my way! It kept coming closer and closer as I kept my camera low to the ground and fired away. The Bobcat veered off at just the perfect distance to give me a beautiful frame-filling shot of a Bobcat mid-stride. You don’t get that kind of opportunity on every outing!
After the Bobcat walked by me, I just looked up and marveled as it continued on its way. I decided against following it. It didn’t seem to mind me too much, but it also had been disturbed a few times by some of the noisier traffic on the road. I gave it a wide berth and headed back to the road, where a passing tour group was kind enough to give me a photo of myself watching the Bobcat.
I watched from a distance as the Bobcat hunted and devoured a gopher, and then moved on for one last opportunity before sunset. I headed back to the badger spot to see if I could get a few more shots. Being careful to stay downwind, I settled in a respectful distance from the badger’s hole, and waited in silence.
After a while, I heard a shout from behind me. “Hey buddy! There’s a Coyote coming right towards you!” Naturally, I was thrilled to hear this news. I turned slowly to avoid alarming the Coyote. From his tone, the Good Samaritan thought I was a nutcase. “It’s at your 9 o’clock! Your 11 o’clock! It’s right on the trail!“
Finally, I spotted the Coyote, which was in the process of finding a spot to lie down. I gave the driver a thumbs-up, he gave me a confused look, and then he drove off. I couldn’t believe it: a Coyote had curled up to nap on a ridge not too far from me. It clearly didn’t want anything from me. It just wasn’t going to let an annoying human deter it from its chosen resting spot for the night.
The Coyote curled into a tight ball, which was a little bit unfortunate from a photographic point of view. The ridge was beautifully positioned for a panoramic shot, but unfortunately the Coyote didn’t raise its head again until the light was all but gone. So, here’s a panorama featuring a furry lump.
As the evening stretched on, I was faced with a dilemma. Keep watching this sleeping Coyote, or turn back to watch for the badger. After a bit of reflection, I remembered that I didn’t have good shots of a howling Coyote. Surely with sunset there would soon be chorus of howls and yipps. So I settled back down and waited. And waited. The sun set. And still I waited. Finally as it was getting hard to see, I stood up and started to slowly walk away. I had only made it a few paces when I heard it: a Coyote howling on the other side of the ravine. Three or four Coyotes joined in, including the one that had been napping near me.
The light was gone and I was no longer in position for a pleasing composition. I made a quick decision to put my camera into video mode, got down on a knee, and did my best to hold it steady. This is not exactly Animal Planet quality footage, but it was neat to capture such an up close view of the Coyote’s family life, and a final record of one of the best days of wildlife photography I’ve had at Point Reyes.