All in the Eyes

Yesterday, I spent some time photographing bobcats at Point Reyes. Of the three cats I spotted, one encounter felt very familiar. I spotted the cat from a distance and worked out a route towards it without blowing my cover until I was close enough to get a decent photo. They’re so aware of their surroundings that it’s almost impossible to go undetected, and it’s a tricky balance to get near enough but not so close that you spook it and leave it terrified.

In this situation, the bobcat noticed me approaching, and when I turned to walk in a different direction, it crouched down low and lay still in the grass. I was grateful it didn’t just turn and run, so I found a spot to lay on the ground, give it some space, and wait. The cat seemingly went to sleep, and I just hung tight. Eventually, after half an hour, it got up, looked at me, and wandered off. I didn’t get to see it hunt, but I didn’t scare it either, and I managed some photos of it looking right at me. This experience was almost identical to one I had a few weeks previously.

When I got home, I studied the photos, zoomed in close, and noticed a minor defect in the corner of the bobcat’s left eye. It seemed oddly familiar, so I compared it to my photos from a few weeks ago and saw the same detail. At that point, I noticed other identical details, like the patterns in the fur and the shape of its ears. It was the same bobcat!

Apart from the curiosity of seeing the same cat twice, weeks apart, it was rewarding for several other reasons. It showed me that these animals are genuine individuals with unique behavioral patterns. And given that this encounter happened almost a mile from the last one and that I’ve seen at least two or three other cats nearby, I learned they have overlapping ranges here.