Whether at sea, or on the land, or in the air,
the struggle to survive is constant.
The biggest threat to all of nature is undeniably man.
And as such, we play out our role in a world where all that lives are predators and prey.
California, a world unto itself.
Attractive beaches, pounded by an unrelenting circle.
Thousands of square miles of desert.
Siege brush and sand dunes are as California as the syrup.
This awesome land is where wildlife is nourished and challenged.
This is California.
No other state in the Union is as rich or as diverse in its natural wonder as California.
To the east, running along the Nevada and Arizona borders, Death Valley and the Mojave Desert.
Northwest of this arid desert, the rugged mountains of the Sierra Nevada range.
North beyond these mountains, exists vast stretches of fertile marshlands
where migrating waterfowls spend each winter.
No trip to California would be complete without visiting at least one of the many unrivaled beaches running down the coastline.
Death Valley, at least as infamous as it is inhospitable in the northern section of the Mojave Desert.
Bleak landscape, twisting dunes and barren, sun-baked sand flats nestled between the surrounding mountains, an altitude of 280 feet below sea level.
It is the lowest land in North America, extending in an area for over 1500 square miles.
The seamless surface of the desert floor is punctuated with occasional outbursts of vegetation.
Because of the dearth of precipitation throughout this area, only the hardiest plants can survive.
The dry, rugged landscape of California's Death Valley would seem to prohibit, or at least discourage, the proliferation of any form of life whatsoever.
But that is not the case.
These tiny footprints made by the kangaroo rat supply us with evidence that at least some life forms exist here.
But only a very few, reptiles, insects, and the like, can endure the extreme conditions of Death Valley.
The hot dry prohibits most inhabitation by producing little food and even less shelter.
The horned lizard, a year-round resident of Death Valley, is usually found in those rare areas where there exists some form of vegetation.
Notice how well this fellow blends into his surroundings.
The young mature quickly, taking on the attributes of the adult in almost no time.
Shortly after birth, they're able to move about quite nimbly.
This horned lizard, once aware of our presence, becomes camera shy and hurries off.
Where there is adequate vegetation, the lizard, when threatened, will usually sit quietly, relying on camouflage for protection.
The scorpion, abundant in most hot dry areas of the world, is no stranger to California's Death Valley.
Its claws or pincers are utterly harmless and are used primarily during mealtime to shred food for easy consumption.
Essentially nocturnal, the scorpion seeks shelter as the sun rises, often turning up in surprising places.
The scorpion's tail, made up of a series of segments, is tipped with a sharp and deadly stinger, with which it inflicts its venom into the prey.
One of the most insidious creatures of the desert region is the legendary black widow spider.
Sleek, hairless, the deadly female has gained a reputation of almost mythical proportions.
She can be recognized by her black bulbous body and by the hourglass-shaped patch of red on her underside.
Here, the male fashions a web.
Like most spiders, the black widow weaves its web across a gap where insects, attempting to pass by, will be trapped, as this plump grasshopper has just discovered.
Ensuring her catch, the black widow binds her quarry securely.
Here, a pair of unsuspecting grasshoppers has become entangled in her web.
The harder they struggle, the more futile their efforts become.
Now, they can only wait for the arrival of the great black widow.
The rattlesnake, undoubtedly the most feared snake in North America, can be found throughout most of the United States and parts of southern Canada.
In California, it ranges from the arid sand flats of Death Valley and the Mojave Desert to the interior marshlands.
The diet of the rattler is composed of birds and small animals, including kangaroo rats, pocket mice, and other rodents.
Wherever there is food, you will almost certainly find the rattlesnake.
Its coloring blends in well with the immediate surroundings, and often the rattlesnake will sit, coiled, and wait for prey to pass by.
The snake's movement is slow, languid, almost lazy, as it slithers over this uneven terrain.
The rattle, which adorns the tail of the rattlesnake and from which the snake takes its name, is made up of a series of interlocking segments.
Each time the skin is shed, a phenomenon occurring on the average of two to four times a year, another segment is added.
When alarmed, the snake shakes his rattle vigorously.
This rattler, basking on the rocks in the dry Death Valley sun, stays close to her youngster.
As we head north, over the Sierra Nevada mountains, we near the interior marshlands.
Much of California's interior is laden with these broad, fertile expanses.
Situated on the outskirts of a tranquil California town, this marsh gives refuge to a wide variety of birds.
The marsh, rich in aquatic vegetation and animals, and often surrounded by various grains and grasses,
provides the ideal home for many birds, including black ducks, pintails, and the egret.
Majestic in flight, the great egret skims lightly over this serene pond, scanning the area for a spot that will provide a more abundant source of food.
This extraordinary bird, a member of the Heron family, second in size only to the great blue,
winters throughout most of the southern states, sometimes even as far south as Columbia.
Springtime brings them to California, where, gathering on these marshes, they come to nest.
The brown pelican, another marshland resident, is easy to spot.
Identified by its large bill, white head and chestnut nape, it stands out sharply among the other birds of the marsh.
Its wide wingspan enables it to glide close to the water's surface, looking for food.
Upon sighting food, brown pelicans have been known to dive from heights exceeding 30 feet.
In another area, this pair of pintails, enjoying the relaxed base of the California marsh,
they take a quiet stroll around the wintering grounds.
The male sports tapering white lines along either side of his chestnut head.
Somewhere, the American avacet marches along the shoreline, preferring to feed where the water is shallow,
where tiny crustaceans can be swept up from the marsh bed.
Dunking his head, this fellow sweeps his bill along the bottom, fishing for food.
The snowy egret, though similar in appearance to his great cousin, is considerably smaller
and tends during migration to be less extensive in his travels.
Relatively widespread throughout North America, the snowy egret is known to breed and winter in the wetlands of California.
This lanky fellow skips along, looking for lunch, while some mergansers follow in tow.
Like the snow goose, the white pelican is primarily a winter visitor to the interior marshes of California.
The long winter months provide the pelican with a lengthy period of comparative inactivity,
during which he recuperates after his fall migration and prepares for the migration ahead.
The white pelican is a cooperative bird.
Gathering together in flocks, they hunt by surrounding schools of fish in shallow water.
They scoop up the fish in their capacious bills.
This method, when compared to the conventional chase method, seems not only more expedient but also more relaxing, almost recreational.
Nowhere on the California marsh is there any sight more breathtaking than the flight of the snow goose,
literally thousands of them gliding above a field, swirling like windswept confetti, turning the blue sky white.
The snow goose, identified by its pure white plumage and contrasting black wing tips, is a regular visitor to the California interior.
Each year, countless numbers of these pristine geese gather on the marshes, where they graze on various vegetation until spring,
when the urge to breed calls them back to the Northland.
Having gathered over the stubble field to feed, they quickly move on, rising in unison, sweeping across the sky like a blizzard,
only to land in an adjacent field, settling on the ground like quivering snowflakes.
A familiar predator on any marsh is this masked bandit, the raccoon.
This one, foraging along the deserted shoreline, looks for the abandoned or unguarded nest, busily prodding the reeds, as this heron looks on.
Moving now to the west and heading down the coastline, south past the large urban centers, we approach the Baja Peninsula.
Here, the rolling surf splashes against the often rugged coastline, washes over lava rocks, pounds against the beach.
Animal life here is as diverse as it is unique, ranging in size and species from the cormorant to the elephant seals and the grey whale.
What can be found along the beach is sometimes surprising. This assortment of birds, including such species as gulls, herons, pelicans, line the sandy shore like Sunday bathers.
These are only some of the birds inhabiting the California coastline.
The great blue heron, the largest of the heron family, is a regular visitor to the coastal areas of California.
A swift, graceful flyer, this majestic bird has been known to make trips exceeding 30 miles in search of food.
Here a flock of cormorants stands watching the waves.
This bird, fairly common along the Pacific coast, likes to nest on rocks near the waters where they fish.
This flock, basking on a small island off the coast of Baja, has gathered together to rest between meals.
Perched upon a rock overlooking the surf, these western gulls take a breather before moving off to scan the shoreline once more for food.
The California coast is heavily populated with gulls, probably the most common seabird in any coastal region.
Few birds fly as gracefully as the gull, effortlessly gliding over the water's edge, scarcely even moving his wings.
This variety of seabirds makes up only a percentage of the wildlife found in this region.
The area is significantly populated with various mammals as well.
Here a solitary seal, stranded amid a garden of aquatic vegetation, calls for attention.
Meanwhile in a nearby sheltered bay, two more frolic playfully.
The warm ocean currents welcome numerous forms of sea life.
Just offshore, the waters teem with dolphins making their way up the coastline, jumping clear out of the water as it performing for an attentive audience.
A little farther up the coast, these California sea lions share a rocky outcropping with flocks of cormorants and brown pelicans.
Sea lions, dining mainly on various sea animals like squid, octopus, and a variety of fish, will always remain close to the water.
The elephant seal, so named because of its great size and long trunk, will travel as far north as Alaska when feeding.
Although it tends to gravitate around southern California during the breeding season, the dominant bulls are extremely territorial
and will sometimes participate in fierce battles when challenged by subdominant bulls in order to protect their harems.
This brief duel appears to be decided by comparing roars.
Female elephant seals, together with their pups, gather along the beaches during breeding season.
These mothers spend a leisurely afternoon basking in the California sun, although this young pup seems more interested in feeding.
During the last century, nearly all the elephant seals were wiped out by hunters.
A ban forbidding their slaughter has helped to restore the population, now estimated at about 45,000.
Although sharks and killer whales still hunt the elephant seal, their numbers continue to increase at an optimistic rate.
Thousands of tourists and native Californians alike board tour boats.
They ferry them out to areas where the gray whale can be found.
The gigantic grays move slowly, casually, breaking the water's swelling surface as they move along,
their huge tails slopping the water, propelling them forward and pushing them into the depths where they feed.
Unlike other baleen whales, the gray has a noticeably mottled skin.
During the summer, the gray whale migrates as far north as the Bering Strait,
but returns to California for roughly three months in the winter to breed,
always remaining close enough to the shoreline to delight the camera-wielding spectators.
These grays appear to be particularly frisky. Undaunted by the presence of these boats, they return again and again.
Raising their mighty heads up out of the water, they seem to welcome the gratuitous affection.
Like the elephant seal, the gray whale was nearly hunted to the point of extinction in the 19th century.
And similarly, their population is rebounding due in part to several successful conservation measures.
This gray, raising his tail as if to bid us goodbye, is heading west, pushing out toward deeper and more peaceful waters.
It is a state of sharp contrasts, California, at once inhospitable and fertile, rugged and serene.
And while its urban centers are well-worn tourist attractions,
its natural sources of beauty continue to hold unexpected and unrivaled pleasure.
In this program, you have seen the incredible contrasts of California. Sea, surf, sagebrush, and sand dunes.
You've seen the wildlife adapting to the fascinating environment that is California.
There are few places on the planet where the balance of nature is so delicate
and where it is so tempting for the bulging human population to trample on the environment.
It will be the challenge of man to keep this part of the planet pure and true.
A challenge that may not be welcomed by all, but one which all must accept, because California is precious.
I'm Charles Adler.
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