Ramble 7: Peregrine Place: domestic rumblings on Fruitvale Bridge

It was a cold, cold Saturday morning and, pressed for time, Marge and Sergei drove to the Fruitvale Bridge instead of their usual ramble a les pieds.

Marge had had to cajole a somewhat reluctant Sergei. “We seldom ramble in around that area and there are some good walk- and bike-ways. You’re grumpy now but, believe me, you’ll like it once we get there.”

And he did.

First, both took pictures of the old railroad track along Tilden Way. Once upon a time, rail track brought three different railroads into town – “town” back then was actually three modest towns and not the Alameda we know and love (read that history at Alameda Museum [our embedded link]). Come to think of it, rail and shuttle are good ways to solve Alameda’s growing traffic congestion. But that’s a ramble for another day.

After taking pictures (this time of year the ginko trees display spectacular shades of luminous yellow and gold - see Sergei's photo below) we wandered to the estuary on the shopping mall side of the bridge. Then things got a lot more interesting for Sergei.
 A woman peering through a high powered camera sitting on a bench – her legs covered with a heavy blanket to protect her from the biting cold – turned to acknowledge us as we came up behind her. We shared greetings then, Sergei, a camera lover, asked about her equipment. 

Turned out, like us (particularly like Sergei) she is a bird watcher – well, more like she’s an avid ornithologist who also volunteers at the Lindsay Wildlife Museum in Walnut Creek.

On this day, she was watching the domestic tribulations of a female peregrine falcon that had been injured months previously, taken to the Lindsay wildlife hospital, and rehabilitated. Then she was released into the wilds of Alameda near the Fruitvale Bridge where she had shared a nest with a mate.

Turns out, he, perhaps thinking his mate and nest partner had died, took another mate. And on this day his new woman – the second wife - had attacked the old, or primary wife. Once the ruckus started the male took off for less stressful climes and left the females fight it out. 

When we arrived, the threatened female had chased off the rehab'd female and the ornithologist was waiting for the next phase of the domestic dispute. She told us a companion ornithologist had reported that the tracking device attached to the recently released female’s leg was indicating she’d taken refuge at the male’s downtown Oakland hangout.

We wonder if the "other woman" knows about this spot?

(Love the leggings!)

A few falcon facts:

• The peregrine is the largest falcon over most of the north American continent
• As with most raptors, males are smaller than females,
• The male bird is referred to as a tiercel and the female as a falcon.
• Peregrines feed especially on shorebirds and ducks although in cities they are masterful at catching pigeons. They often sit on high perches (like Fruitvale Bridge and tall buildings in downtown Oakland) waiting for the right opportunity to make their aerial assault.
• Learn more and hear falcon calls [our embedded link].

Ramble 6. Out of town guy at a Bay Area Christmas Party

Sergei and Marge went to a Christmas party in Alameda – in this case we won’t say anything more about our city than that the party was on the East Side.

One one of the guests was from “out of town”.

Boy! Did he have a perspective! One topic of conversation was that Connecticut, one of early America’s industrial centers, was a:

“hotbed of weapons manufacturing—so much so that it was referred to in the 19th century as the “Arsenal of America.” In 1851, Samuel Colt, inventor of the revolver, built a factory on a parcel of land on the banks of the Connecticut River near Hartford. The legendary saying attached to Colt was “Abe Lincoln may have freed all men, but Sam Colt made them equal.” (Read the article)

From there the conversation went to a newspaper that ran a holiday ad for handguns and assault rifles placed next to an article about the 20 children and 8 adults shot to death in Sandy Hook, CT.

Here’s a screenshot of the ad:

Then this “out of town” guest (“OOTG”) shared his perspective (“more like out-to-lunch, Marge”, Sergei says):

OOTG: Sure we need assault rifles and when better than Christmas to give ‘n get ‘em! For one thing, who knows when some fat guy in some outfit too-weird-to-be-taken-seriously will come into your house – through the chimney, for example, and you’ll have to protect your family.”

Think about it. This intruder dumps a bunch of packages under your indoor plant. Where I come from we call those sorts of guys ‘terrorists’!

This is exactly the kind of situation that calls for a diversified arsenal. Deer rifle for the horned critters of the roof and an assault weapon to ensure you drill through the fat guys layers of blubber and hit a vital organ."

The OOTG looked around the  room to be sure he still had an audience.
He did. All of us – 15 or 20 people – just stared at him with our mouths hanging open. He took our silence as permission to continue.

OOTG: “These days ya just never can tell what’s on your doorstep – or on your roof. Man, I should blast that foreigner and his gang simply for landing on my roof and messing up my shingles. Every spring! Every spring I gotta go up there and make sure the roof is maintained after the holidays. Ain’t no holiday for folks like me who try to maintain our property values, let me tell ya!”

Well, as usually happens at social events like this, no one took the opportunity to confront OOTG’s views. We all just simply tuned him out and poured ourselves another glass of eggnog. After a while, OOTG left. As the door closed behind him the few of us remaining rolled our eyes to express our opinions; others simply ignored the whole episode and talked brightly about how the drought seems to be breaking and “won’t it be nice when spring comes around again?” 

During the silent walk home Sergei muttered something about Marge reminding him to check the roof shingles in the spring.

Ramble 5: Of firefighters, ladder trucks, and the contradictions

Thanks to differences of opinion while talking and walking (rumbles on the rambles?) Marge Saxon and Sergei Gromyko have come to an understanding.
Sergei demonstrated, by example, how useful a camera is. Marge took the lesson to heart…now she carries a camera around too!

And that, dear Reader, brings us to another chapter in an ongoing story Marge and Sergei have followed for some months.

Over the past year, particularly as campaigning heated up for the November election, Alameda Fire Department has been scrutinized more than usual.

Sergei and Marge heard stories from residents that led them to believe AFD is perceived by many as promoting AFD interests over those of the city and its dwindling budget (contracts, benefits, and campaign contributions to city council candidates).

What with the push for a new fire station (despite discussions on whether the city needs another or not, we’re getting one) and campaign information that highlighted the costs of new fire trucks ($1.5 million per truck – vehicles are replaced when mileage maxes out at 50,000 and at most 75,000 miles), there seemed to be something to these perceptions.

This led to many jokes when, during various rambles and grocery shopping expeditions, Marge and Sergei found – and photographed -- fire department vehicles parked outside stores on the main island and Harbor Bay (Trader Joe’s, Safeway, and Big 5. A Big 5 employee mentioned that firefighters frequently parked the fire truck in the lot when they dropped in to shop during regular business hours).

What, we wonder, is the actual cost of lunch (or breakfast, dinner, or another t-shirt) when a $1.5 million fire truck with an apparent life span of 50,000 miles or so is used for a grocery store run?

These two pix (ambulance and fire engine #2) were taken over the summer (2012).

Marge snapped the two views (one above and one below) of AFD’s new ladder truck. (Policy 2.5.i of the General Plan calls for three storey and 35 to 40 foot height limits in Alameda and we need a ladder truck?)

Marge picks up the story:

On December 11 outside Trader Joe’s at Town Center mall - on the sidewalk near Applebee’s - I overheard a very public exchange between 3 Alameda firefighters (“FF”) and an appreciative Alameda resident (“AAR”).

AAR: Thank you for all you do for Alameda. Is that the new ladder truck?
FF: You’re welcome! Yes, a beauty, isn’t she?

AAR: Sure is. How many miles on the clock?

FF: About three thousand.

AAR: That many miles already? Didn’t it just arrive in Alameda?

FF: Well, the truck is driven from Wisconsin (hmmm, Marge can't recall whether FF said Wisconsin…or Michigan).

AAR: Well, you deserve it. Again, thanks for all you do.                  

At that the 3 firefighters walked into Trader Joe’s.

Marge does not know if the 3,000 “delivery” miles are included in the 50 – 75K. Are you, dear Reader, as curious as she is about what happens to the almost new vehicle then? Far as Marge can figure it, the vehicle is recycled to a smaller – less affluent? – city. Be interesting to know what is the fiscal rationale behind all this. Indeed, sounds as if this story is far from over.
Actually, a resident subsequently explained that on-duty firefighters are obliged to be close to emergency vehicles at all times; hence the grocery store and shopping runs.
But, wouldn't it make sense - under current fiscal conditions and "The Great Recession" for AFD to purchase a bicycle with trailer (these cost from $400 to $600 at Alameda Bicycle and require only human pedal power) and have one firefighter bike to pick up meals and Big 5 goodies? On the small chance there's a fire or emergency during lunch or tea break, the cycling firefighter could join his crew at the fire site. After all, Alameda is less than 5 miles long.
Even a food delivery service would be cheaper than driving a $1.5 million gas-guzzler. (Sergei's considered opinion? "That vehicle gets yardage not mileage!") Or, revolutionary idea: firefighters make out a grocery list and purchase groceries - what the hell, have 'em delivered! - and cook meals  at the station. Couldn't they even hire a local person to cook those meals? That adds funds into the community at 'the people' level. Any of these possibilities would be cheaper than driving around enormous and enormously expensive fire vehicles (a lot quieter too!).
If you know anything about fire trucks, their lifespan, and breeding habits, let us know.

Here's another view of AFD’s new ladder truck.
Below that is Sergei's photograph of Marge admiring the sunset after a rain storm at Crab Cove (Sergei's two cents? "Tell readers that's you, Marge, or they might think its an escaped garden gnome").

 

Ramble 4: The red-nosed Rudolphs return!

I hadn't noticed how much I depend upon seeing these harbingers of the holidays until it seemed they may not appear this year.
I've been scanning Eighth Street along Washington Park since before Thanksgiving (have you noticed that, these days, holiday decorations appear before the annual turkey food-a-thon?).
I suggested to Sergei that maybe this year the reindeer headed south for the winter with the Least Terns and flocks of our other feathered friends.
Skeptical of my descriptions - "Reindeer palm fronds, Marge? Are you hallucinating?" - and, to his credit, Sergei's disbelief may be warranted: he'd never seen them before and he appreciated discovering them. (Hmmm, perhaps now is a good time for a little self reflection: could it be that, due to artistic differences, "talks have broken down" by this point in our ramblings? I'm known to devolve into a hair-trigger payload of impatience when Sergei stops - oh so frequently - to photograph. I'm also known to stalk off and leave him and his camera to make their way home alone. Here's another item to add to our growing list of New Year's Resolutions: Marge shalt not express her impatience with Sergei's artistic ramblings.)

Alas, I digress.
Today, anxious that the reindeer may not appear this year, I walked over to Burbank, Portola and Eight street near Washington Park to check.

 (Above: view of Burbank from Portola toward Central Ave.)

The red-nosed Rudolphs are back!
Indeed, I was so excited to find them that I photographed them!
They're more splendid than ever since, this time, I know how this reindeer tradition evolved.
I couldn't quite believe that the City was responsible for executing such imaginative goings-on but I wasn't sure. I figured it was more likely a neighbor or two doing the magic.
Turns out it is most of the neighborhood!
I learned this from a Burbank Avenue resident I collared as he departed his parked vehicle.
He, Andy, was very neighborly; instead of dashing inside and shutting the door on the crazy old stranger-lady calling out to him he stopped to chat.
He's has lived on Burbank since 1983 and, each year, he and most of his neighbors gather for this holiday tradition.
This year they gathered on Sunday, December 2 to choose the right fronds from the palms that line both sides of Burbank. The tradition began in this neighborhood although the group has been joined by those who live along Eighth between Central and Portola avenues where palm trees grace the Washington Park side of Eighth Street.

Each year residents volunteer to exploit the perfect curve of dropped palm fronds to create dozens of reindeer. They prep and dicky up the fronds, paint eyes, place the red ornament noses (last year's noses were red ping pong balls) then, using ladders and lots of careful attention, they attach the festive critters to the palm trees about 15 feet above street level and hold them there with yards of weather-proof red ribbon.

Andy told me "Cami and Sally" - Portola Ave residents - may have originated the annual showing of the reindeer so, a few days later, Sergei and I returned to find them. And we did.

Cami continues to evolve the design: this year he sawed and chopped and nailed and created whole and free-standing reindeer out of fronds.

Amazing how well-adapted is the palm frond to spending the winter as a ribbon bedecked reindeer with a red tree ornament for a nose.(Perhaps Sergei has something with his photographomania after all?)

 Welcome back, Rudolphs!

Ramble 3: "I talk to the trees...."

I don't drive much but when I drive along Central Avenue, I sing to the trees. I swear those gorgeous Western Sycamores actually sort of...swell, or twitch their leaves at the sound of my voice. (Sergei, not always known for his romantic streak, asks, "Are they twitching... or are they flinching, Marge?)
The man gets his musicals confused sometimes too. Most recently I sang a few bars from, "I talk to the trees" and he insisted that tune was from "Oaklahoma!"
"You're barking up the wrong tree," I told him. Nevertheless, it took an Internet search to prove my point: it's from "Paint your wagon".

"You got me, Marge. Treed, I am!"
Well, if one is going to be treed, this is the town that offers real choice. We have almost 20,000 street trees here...and that does not count trees planted by residents in their own yards."
There's a fine assortment too. Conifers, evergreens, deciduous, the works. In the fall, the deciduous are certainly not shy; they may not drop their leaves as quick as Las Vegas pole dancers drop their finery but the town is nevertheless  littered with thousands of delicately shaded leaves that feel as soft as under-garments.
This year Sergei has paid more attention than ever to the bare branches and in a forthcoming ramble we'll share photographs of the extra-ordinary architecture of bare trees.
As much as I complain about always having to wait  while Sergei takes dozens more photographs than he'll ever need, his omnipresent camera is a blessing, after all.

 

 Palms along Burbank Ave

Western Sycamore...and detail of its bark. It is even more dramatic after rain fall intensifies the hues.

I call this The Paper Tree since its bark is soft and spongy and a bit like paper...or, perhaps it's a cork tree?
By the way, readers, if you know the names of any of these trees, let us know and we'll add them...and your name too if you'd like that.

Crab Cove's lane of Western Sycamores. The public baths and amusement park once graced this zone but I can't imagine that the view was better then than it is today.

Ramble 2: Little Free Library...and lots of leaves

We set off into the neighborhood east of Central and south of Webster streets for another drop off/pick up at the Little Free Library.

This visit, our first this fall, allowed us, as gleeful as children, to kick through piles of leaves in amazingly varied colors.
When you're outside, pick up and examine a few of these wildly lurid fall leaves. They may remind you, as they do me and Sergei, of how much we humans take for granted as we act in but re-act little to or with our surroundings.
Sergei grew up along the eastern seaboard and expects this leafy show in the fall (he expects an even more showy show but is content with what we get here since it is accompanied by rain and not feet-deep drifts of snow.) I grew up in warmer winter zones and, during Alameda's fall, I collect dozens of these leaves - exclaiming over each miraculous palette - then lay each, gently, to dry between the pages of old phone books (here's one good use for outdated phone books before being deposited in recycling bins).
Sergei demonstrated what I think of as a variation on sculpture's lost wax method: arrange dried leaves in a creative pattern over one sheet of wax paper - wax side up - then, when the leaf pattern is perfect (remember to use the stems and veins to enhance the layout and design) - lay another sheet of waxed paper - wax side down this time - over the leaves and iron. As the hot wax melts it seeps into the leaves to hold and seal them and it also adhere together the two sheets of paper.
With the combination of wax paper and leaves is cool, use a pin or tape to hang the leaf-embedded translucent paper over a bright window: nature's gift of stained glass-like beauty for the short season. Lovely!

Alas, I digress.
Joyfully kicking leaves along Caroline Street we turned right onto Taylor Avenue and stopped in front of the hedge at 1024 and Alameda's Little Free Library.
This sturdy, two-shelf, wooden structure houses free books with Little Free Library movement's principle being, Take a book, return a book.
The idea comes from friends of the Give it Forward Team (GIFT).
There are many such little libraries across the nation; the charter number of Alameda's version is 2115.  Find out more at Little Free Library and find others in the East Bay - [my embedded links].

While Sergei and I regularly visit the Alameda Free Library - the collection is, of course, far wider - one of the joys of the Little Library is its philosophy, a small portion of which is:

If this were just about providing free books on a shelf, the whole idea might disappear after a few months.  There is something about the Little Library itself that people seem to know carries a lot more meaning.  Maybe they know that this isn't just a matter of advertising or distributing products. The unique, personal touch seems to matter, as does the understanding that real people are sharing their favorite books. Leaving notes or bookmarks, having one-of-a-kind artwork on the Library or constantly re-stocking it with different and interesting books can make all the difference.

Indeed, we've found, read, returned, and added a number of books.
Last visit I found another in the series, "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" by Scottish author Alexander McCall Smith. The agency's founder is a Motswana woman, Mma Precious Ramotswe whose office is located in Gaborone, capital of Botswana. The shortish novels highlight the moral compass of two intelligent African women with generous hearts, the older of whom appreciates the younger woman's (contextual) work ethic and ambition and encourages her also to trust her instincts about people. (If you're interested, I returned it already.)

This visit Sergei brought home, "The Road", the 2006 novel by American writer Cormac McCarthy recently made into a film. I haven't seen the film and may not since, in my opinion, excellent books made into films seldom communicate the subtlety inherent in the written word. This is a sparsely written, intense, bitter-sweet story that, despite the grueling setting, offers a message of hope, love, and generosity that, let's face it, is to be found among humans despite our penchant for the opposite.
This picture shows current titles in the Little Free Library:

If you go, take a book to drop off too.