The Egrets of Alameda: Urban Birdwatching with Cindy Margulis

 

It's a typical summer morning at the lagoon. The air is filled with a strange dinosaur-like soundtrack as the continuous sound of babbling and squawking travels across the water. It's nesting season for a co-mingled flock of snowy and great egrets who have taken over several Monterey pine trees at the water's edge. Beneath the trees, Cindy Margulis is checking on the birds. 

Cindy, a birdwatcher and lifelong animal lover, has dedicated her time and skills over the years in support of people, birds and animals. She is the former Executive Director of Golden Gate Audubon. For years, Cindy was a docent and a board member at the Oakland Zoo, where she produced the popular Sunday live animal shows. She volunteered as a scientific monitor of colonial waterbird colonies for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and for San Francisco Bay Bird Observatory for years, as well. She has rescued wild birds in distress and brought them to licensed wildlife rehabilitation agencies, such as International Bird Rescue & Lindsay Wildlife Hospital. 

In this interview, Cindy tells the story of a heroic egret-to-egret rescue, how accessible urban wildlife viewing spots serve as the front line for resolving human and animal conflicts, ways bird watching has the power to connect people to one another and why leading with the heart may be the most powerful tool to protect birds.

 

Urban Egret colony in a stand of Montery pines in a residential neighborhood

Snowy Egret with long lacy breeding plumage. A hundred years ago egrets were nearly hunted to extinction for their feathers which led to the passage of the Migratory Bird Act. This landmark piece of conservation legislation protected egrets and all migratory birds from being hunted for their feathers or being harassed. Since then, populations have rebounded.

GW: You've been watching the egrets nest in Alameda for fifteen years. What first brought you there? 

CM: A friend brought me out here in 2008. I was so excited. We could walk right up to the egret trees. I couldn't believe it. We had just visited Audubon Canyon Ranch, a famous rookery in Bolinas, California. There, you hike up a hill, and you're looking at the birds through binoculars or telescopes from across the canyon. But here, I was astonished that I could be in such close proximity to these magnificent birds. I mean, you really want to be in pooping distance, right? (And she winks)

Between the behaviors and the vocalizations and their sheer beauty, it's mesmerizing. I mean: just watching an egret preening itself is an exquisite little zen moment. I got hooked. I wanted to keep watching them every chance I could! Soon, I started doing formal data collection and public interpretation of the birds. 

I used to stand near all these rookery trees. I would look like a total geeked-out birder. I'd be in my safari vest with my dorky hat, my binoculars, my scope on a tripod, plus my large camera. I would be out there and people would ask, 'What are you looking at?' I would point fifteen feet up where anyone could see all these egrets, and they're like, 'Oh! Wow!'

Great egrets spend their mornings in the top of a Monterey pine tree near the nesting site

Snowy egrets spend hours each day preening to maintain their feathers.

GW: What keeps you coming back?

CM: It's pure beauty and fascination. Even though I've been watching them for so long, sometimes I see something fresh or new or comical or silly. Over the years, I have rescued birds that were in trouble. There have been times when I haven't even been at the colony and people who know me have contacted me to come over to rescue a bird. If they fall into the lagoon, a baby can't regulate its body temperature. Depending on the water level, it likely can't even get itself out of the lagoon before hypothermia sets in. If they fall onto concrete, they can get hurt. These little creatures are just so vulnerable. It's very heartbreaking, so if I can help one, I will.

GW: What is one of your most memorable egret-watching moments?

CM: The most extraordinary experience that I had with the egrets was while I was a citizen scientist collecting data about the colony. There was a snowy egret who was building a small nest very close to a great egret's nest. Snowy egrets are a bit notorious for thievery, and they will try to steal a stick from another nest, which will save them a trip out to go get their own stick. This snowy egret had been either stealing a stick or simply getting too close to a great egret tending its nest. The great egret flared her wings and made the Snowy Egret back up abruptly but she sort of fell backward so that her legs were dangling in midair but her wings were fully open and caught over a sheath of pine needles. She was stranded and had no leverage to get back up. Another snowy egret, I presume it was a male, realized that this bird was in trouble and got an enormous stick. It was nearly a meter long, much too big for a snowy egret to use for nest building, but he somehow managed to maneuver that long stick underneath the stranded egret's feet so that she had something to grab onto. Then he literally levered her out of that predicament. 

There was a little engineering, and problem solving going on. Many people often think of wildlife as acting purely on instinct. But, they're not robots, they're thinking creatures, in relationship with each other. They're thoughtful about where they are. There can be empathy and genuine problem-solving. He realized she needed a lift out, so he got a stick and used it as a long lever to help her out.

I presume it was the male doing the rescuing and I was pretty convinced that after he rescued her, they bred together at that small nest. There was a bond between these two birds. He knew she was in trouble, he realized he could help her and he sure enough did it. It cemented their relationship. 'You got me out of a jam. Let's raise a family together!"

GW: Wow, that's incredible!

CM: I was stunned to see that behavior. I already had a great fondness for these birds, but this moment took my appreciation to another level. It felt like the Jane Goodall moment when she realizes that chimps are using tools. Humans are not the only ones capable of using tools.

Tool use among snowy egrets is not really known to biologists. It has rarely – if ever?-- been recorded in the literature. Green herons, a related species in the Ardeidae family, are definitely known for using tools – for fishing. They will collect seeds, insects, or other items and throw them into the water to attract fish that the green heron will then prey upon. Green Herons and some other species will also use their wings to create a little zone of shade, which in a hot wetland, draws the fish over. So Green Herons are quite clever birds who will use "lures", i.e. tools, to improve their success at fishing.

Two snowy egrets get too close to a great egret nest

GW: You had a life-changing experience with a Parrot while you were a docent at the Oakland Zoo. Can you talk about that?

CM: I worked with a Yellow-naped Amazon Parrot, named Broc, who had been confiscated from wildlife traffickers many years earlier by the USDA. After surviving his traumatic ordeal of being smuggled (and sustaining injuries), a permanent home was found for him at the Oakland Zoo. When I got to know Broc, for whatever reason, he took a shine to me. Honestly, I was smitten from the first instant I got to work with him. Probably he could see the love in my eyes. Broc was an animal ambassador who starred in my Sunday Wildlife Theater shows at the zoo. Sometimes he would share the stage with a Black Kite named Leah when we did a show comparing and contrasting birds. Once, Broc famously prompted our zoo audience to guess that Leah was a hawk (the most typical audience guess), which she wasn't. Broc laughed loudly when the whole crowd guessed wrong because he'd misled them. But it proved that Broc had a great sense of humor and impeccable timing! In working with Broc so closely, I realized how much intelligence he showed, how deep his emotions could be, and how much he valued being in relationships—with me, with his keepers, and with everyone who enriched his life at the zoo. He enjoyed socializing with those who consistently gave him time and attention. 

GW: You've mentioned you are attracted to social birds because of their extraordinary intelligence and complex behaviors. Where did that lead you?

CM: So working with Broc made me want to observe other social birds—but in the wild! I didn't have abundant resources to go to Costa Rica and hang out with a wild flock of parrots for months on end. Instead, I decided to start observing the nearest social birds locally which happened to be Alameda's shorebirds.

I began watching and photographing mixed species flocks in the wintertime. Whether it was a mudflat, rocky shoreline, or sandy beach habitat, hundreds—even thousands—of shorebirds would share space with each other. Many of these species come from totally different places. Some breed as far away as the Arctic tundra but migrate here and may spend the whole fall and winter along our Bay Area shores. Others come from inland places like Nevada and Montana. All these different species gather and peacefully share the same shoreline and spend the fall and winter in quite close proximity to each other.

You have marbled godwits and long-billed curlews and numerous smaller sandpiper species each from distinct and distant breeding sites. You easily might have a dozen species on the same hundred feet of shoreline roosting together at high tide. I was mesmerized by that. Since I love to watch birds—I am a bird watcher more than a birder—I am enthralled just observing all these birds' behavior right in front of me. They're not hidden behind leaves like songbirds might be. If I'm still, I can watch them for long stretches of time. I can see when they're resting, or bathing, or preening. I notice each of their different styles of foraging. And I see how they're affected by even accidental human actions, like when a soccer ball gets kicked toward their roosting spot on the beach.

I am just fascinated watching all these social birds and how they interact with each other. I see these mixed flocks of shorebirds as a beautiful metaphor for the Bay Area. We have people here who originate from all over and we all are sharing limited space together. We can learn to get along more peacefully and more gracefully share resources, like all these different kinds of shorebirds do.

GW: You've described the presence of the egret colony as a "National Geographic moment" happening right under our noses. It's an incredible opportunity for us to connect to the natural world. And yet, many people remain unaware of them. What lessons does this teach us to strengthen our relationship with place? 

CM: I think one of the most important things has to do with vision and focus. Sometimes in our human world, we can get so fixated on one particular thing that we don't see the bigger picture. As an interpreter for the egrets I often provide color commentary to help people understand what they're seeing and why it's so special. I did a program with the library where we invited people to a slideshow about the birds, and then we would walk together a hundred yards over to the colony site and people could see it themselves. As people got more interested in what was going on, they told their friends so that program grew in popularity each year. And I noticed that so many more neighbors all became more interested in watching the egrets.

I try to change people's attitudes to find wonder and meaning in nature. How about not looking down at the poop on the pavement and how about looking up at the birds? In our busy stressed society, we can help each other to focus on what is special and rare and unique. We all need more beauty in our lives and what's more beautiful than birds? There's almost nothing in nature that's as accessible to everyone as birds. If you really watch pigeons for instance, you'll notice that they have a gorgeous iridescent throat patch. Pigeons do darling little dances to show that they're attracted to a mate. Their feet turn red when they're excited. This is a bird that's recognizable by everyone—even at a city bus stop. But we have to look. We have to train ourselves to pay attention to the natural world. I think we can discover beauty to delight us, if we open our eyes wider.

That is a form of solace that we need in our hectic lives. And it's shareable! It has been my experience that I can bond with anyone of any race or age or background when we are simply standing next to each other watching a bird, together.

GW: A minimum of two dozen nests are needed to ensure a colony's future but in recent years there have not been enough. You care deeply about these birds and yet you keep showing up, watching their numbers trickle down. What is it like to live with the uncertainty of how long we will have the colony?

CM: Honestly, it's profoundly sad for me. I have a nostalgia for when this colony was substantially bigger than it is now, three to four times larger, in fact. At the same time I don't know how much longer we'll have egrets nesting at this site where they're so accessible for viewing. For that reason, I watch the egrets as often as I can, even though it's disheartening that far fewer egrets are raising their families here than in previous seasons. 

These accessible wildlife viewing spots are places to educate the community, right at the front line between wildlife and humans. You can address, or avert, conflicts in these places. Whereas if bird populations are struggling but are out of sight, out of mind, it becomes harder for humans to pay attention or take necessary vital action.

GW: Can we use this egret colony as an opportunity to ask questions about how to coexist with all types of our other-than-human residents? How can we hold the needs of both the birds and their human neighbors? 

CM: The lesson for me from the egret rookery site is that we have to help people see and encourage them to care. When they care enough, it's possible that actions can succeed in saving the birds. Whenever there's a close encounter, people can actually marvel at the beauty of these animals and that naturally inspires a sense of stewardship. You might know that something is endangered on the other side of the world, but if you don't feel personally empowered to do something about it, you'll just feel sad, or helpless. Those are not positive emotions. However, if you get a chance to see beauty in the natural world, close up in your own neighborhood, then you learn simple things that you can do to help wildlife thrive. Then you'll naturally share your concern with others. Then we can educate the whole community to take helpful actions, or to refrain from some actions. It can be as simple as not removing trees during the nesting season, or not letting your pet off-leash in bird habitats. Places where humans and wildlife live together, present very special opportunities to work together to sustain wildlife and enrich the lives of people in the human community.

GW: Are there specific actions that people can take to protect the egrets?

CM: People tend to lead others with their own passion, right? If they love birds, they can make art about the birds. Or raise their voices in song, or in advocacy to conserve wild birds. Someone might be inspired to organize the neighborhood to say, hey, wait, we want to plant some different trees in a location that's perhaps not right next to houses, but where the egrets might choose to nest safely nearby. Or we want to plant more drought-tolerant trees, more native plants in our own gardens to support other birds that also nest in the neighborhood along all these lagoons. So there's actually actionable, tangible stuff people can do, using their passion and applying their own talents.

GW: What is your hope for the future of the egrets and the people?

CM: Baba Dioum once said, "In the end, we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand and we will understand only what we are taught." So, I hope that by sharing what I have learned, and by spreading enthusiasm and concern for wildlife around us, other people will also desire to be stewards of the birds and wild animals who share our world. It's my hope that we'll succeed by leading with love. After all, it's our best capacity as humans—to love.

Three baby great egrets stretch their wings

For the breeding season a patch of skin on this great egret’s face has changed from yellow to neon green, and long lacy breeding feathers called aigrettes are growing from its back.

Snowy egrets have different breeding colors. The skin patch on their faces changes from yellow to a reddish color.

A hundred years ago egrets nearly went extinct after being hunted for the feather trade. Their breeding plumage was used in hats.

Pale blue egret egg shell below the nest trees

Snowy egrets defending their position in the nesting tree

Great Egret hunting for fish in the lagoon at nightfall