Bird rescue team
When baby herons fall from nests in Oakland, humans are there to help
Before Oakland became a concrete jungle, herons ruled a small section of what is now downtown. If a heron chick fell from its nest, the grass and shrubbery below would pad its fall, and it could use the foliage to climb and fly back home.
Now, however, that landing place is more likely to be a sidewalk than a meadow, and a baby heron that plummets to the cement stands very little chance of growing up to be an adult heron. Unless, that is, it’s helped by a 2-year-old effort by the Oakland Zoo, Golden Gate Audubon Society and International Bird Rescue to rescue heron chicks that take a hard fall.
“We’ve got basically a wildlife-human conflict right in the midst of a major city,” said Cindy Margulis, executive director of the Golden Gate Audubon Society.
Black-crowned night herons and snowy egrets that used to nest mainly around Lake Merritt have resettled in recent years to a pair of downtown spots west of the lake, along 13th and Alice streets and at 12th and Harrison streets, said zoo spokeswoman Erin Harrison.
The chicks are hard to spot in their canopies, their presence revealed mainly by remnants of greenish eggshells littering the pavement and an occasional screech that can be heard a block away.
“It’s this crazy sound,” Margulis said, comparing the heron’s call for food to “yabba-dabba-doo meets Beethoven.”
The Golden Gate Audubon Society has identified 130 nests that each house up to three chicks at the two sites, as well as close to 20 nests belonging to snowy egrets that share the canopies with the herons.
As the parent herons forage for food or sticks to upgrade their nests, many baby herons will climb around their trees, trying out their wings, said Leslie Storer, a zoological manager with the Oakland Zoo.
If they fall, those wings won’t be strong enough to keep them airborne. If the concrete doesn’t hurt them, often times, they’ll hide under parked cars or rest on the sidewalk.
“They’re trapped in a dangerous environment,” Margulis said. Many will freeze to death, starve or be hit by a car.
The heron-rescue teams have saved seven chicks so far in 2017. The chicks stay at International Bird Rescue’s facilities until they’re able to fly on their own.
The first of the “gawky, dinosaur-looking” birds was released last week at Martin Luther King Jr. Regional Shoreline, Margulis said. The hope is that the birds will establish colonies near the water and away from the dangers of the streets.
“Saving this rookery location isn’t a priority — it’s saving the population,” Margulis said.
A Golden Gate Audubon Society staffer patrols the streets once a day to check for fallen birds. If a chick is there, the zoo sends in a handler to retrieve the bird and takes it to International Bird Rescue in Fairfield for longterm care — anywhere from a week to 40 days.
The zoo and bird rescue center decided to start the rescue effort after an incident in 2014 in which five baby herons were injured after the post office across from the 13th and Alice colony hired a tree-trimming service to “crew-cut” canopies, Margulis said.
The trimmer, whom the U.S. Postal Service had hired because the herons were defecating on mail trucks, initially faced criminal charges that could have resulted in jail time and a $15,000 fine. The charges were dropped when he agreed to pay $2,500 for the heron chicks’ care.
The nesting season for the white birds with a navy-blue backside and blood-red eyes generally is in full swing now, and will be until early May or so. The poop just comes with the territory, Storer said.
“Enjoy the actual wildlife that’s in your neighborhood — not cursing the fact that there is poop on your car,” Storer said. “Poop is good luck.” Sarah Ravani is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: sravani@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @SarRavani