I'll Always Tear It Up On My Own

Canvasback!

Ventura.  Oh man.  It's a weird place.  This is where I grew up...and so predictably I have mixed feelings about it.  My ten year high school reunion is this June (I am hoping to be working out of state when that goes down), which is a bizarre thought to say the least.  It seems like it wasn't that long ago when A) I had way more zits B) Weighed way less C) Birded way more D) Was (unbelievably) not the archetype of coolness that I am now, and last but not least E) I would go into a catatonic state whenever a girl would talk to me.  Seriously, it was the classic "If I don't move maybe she won't see me" approach, which I do not recommend to anyone.   Obviously, its not even an approach.  Its like camoflague....you know, when like when bitterns sway back and forth in the reeds to pretend that theyre just a bunch of crap being blown around in the wind.

Anyways.....who said that?  How embarassing.  Today's fowl are from Oakland's Lake Merritt again, where diving ducks rule by day and drug dealers lurk by night.

This is one of the crustier Great Egrets I've seen, but I can assure you that they clean up nicely.

I was never able to get close to any of the Barrow's Goldeneyes that have been hanging out there, but Common Goldeneyes are better looking anyway.

Thanks to Andrew Jackson Jihad, Dan Potthast, Dead To Me/Bad Friends, Devil Makes Three, Ian Fays, Kepi Ghoulie, NOFX, King City, Filthy Thieving Bastards, Joey Cape, Tony Sly, Strike Anywhere, Strung Out, and a few other bands for making the past few months awesome.  Most of all, thanks to all my friends who made just hanging out for over three months a completely worthwhile endeavour.  My advice to you remains unchanged: stop eating meat, quit your job, look at birds.  I did it, and you can too!

Double-crested Cormorant.