Green grass and brown trees

A week has passed since our arrival on Catalina. Jongmin and I took the 1 hr long ferry ride from San Pedro to Avalon last Friday, taking advantage of the excellent weather and opting for the roof-top view of the surrounding ocean. The trip was much different than our last ride on the Catalina Express. This time, we were surrounded by tourists destined for Avalon at the start of the long weekend. Last time, we were surrounded by firefighters returning to the mainland after the so-called "Island Fire."

That was May 2007. The island was a parched landscape that had been suffering from the most severe drought on record, and 4,760 acres of the island's interior had just burned with the boundary extending right up to the city of Avalon. We were in the interior of the island for the duration of the fire, without power or contact with the outside world. Helicopters flew over our heads constantly as they made loops between the fire on the horizon and the reservoir in our backyard. The fire burned for a few days and when it was out we left the island, cutting short our field season by one week.

This year, upon our arrival in Avalon, we were pleased to find an island much greener than when we last saw it. There was grass, green grass, the oaks on the surrounding hillsides had grown new leaves and many of the flowers had started to appear. The island received several inches of rain in January and February and it showed. We were ecstatic. The breeding season would soon be upon us, or so we thought.

We retrieved our vehicle, left for us by the Catalina Island Conservancy, made a brief stop at the local grocery store, and set off on our journey into the island's interior. The drive took us through the Island Fire, the road still lined with eucalyptus trees but the surrounding oaks covered in fire-scars. Shortly thereafter we found ourselves in Middle Ranch and settled into what is called "the bunkhouse," a place we share with the Conservancy's field technicians.

The next morning we awoke before dawn for our first day of fieldwork. Our expectations heightened by the ever-present greenery, we were shocked when we drove into the canyon where our field site is located to find it looking even browner than when we left. The understory was a brilliant colour of green, but that stood in stark contrast to the canopy, which was an ugly colour of brown. The oaks had dropped their old leaves and most hadn't grown new ones. It was puzzling. How could they be so green on the rest of the island, and yet so brown on our study site?

Despite the rather sad looking trees, we were pleased to find many of our banded birds waiting for us on the same territories they held the previous year. Red-Aluminum-Red-Red, check. Aluminum-Blue-Orange-White, check. Aluminum-Red-Green-Red, check. We counted over 20 banded birds on the first day alone, and many more birds who have yet to be banded. The birds were back, but we had a sinking feeling that the breeding season would be weeks away. Few males seemed to have acquired females, and food didn't seem particularly abundant given the sparse foliage. Our continued surveys over the course of this week have only served to strengthen that suspicion - and so we wait.