Which, if Google Translate is to be trusted (YMMV!) means “Three Quail On The Backyard Fence.”
I never expected to see quail out here. I’m not sure why I thought that – it makes perfect sense now that I know they’re here. But to me, who went quail hunting with my Dad as a kid, quail mean “Grandpa’s corn fields in South Dakota,” not “California high desert.” But that’s a “me” thing, not a quail thing.
I had seen one back when I was exploring the edge of The Mesa, where the Victor Valley floor drops off into the Cajon Pass. Since then I had briefly seen lone quail on our back yard wall once or twice, but never with enough time to grab my phone or camera before they took off.
Today I was dishing out my dinner and I saw not one, not two, but THREE of them out there, and they stayed long enough for me to grab the camera with the big lens. It looks like the middle one is a male, based on the dark face markings and white stripes, while the first and thrid ones are females.
Squab on the hoof! What a delight!
