In Search of PAWI

Save the PAWI

Memories of a Trinidad Mountaintop. . . .

Morning atop the ridge that holds the telecommunication towers high above the Asa Wright Nature Centre and Lodge is magical. Mist prevails but rises as sun filters over the ridge. Mixed flocks of tanagers and other songbirds fly like bullets through dense leaves. The sounds are incredible – birds, katydids, people in the far off village waking up. Toucans vie for my attention – how can I NOT look at such a day-glow oddity of nature.

But this day, we were on a mission. Trinidad lists few endemic birds as, having been joined to South America during lower sea levels of the last Ice Age, it lacks the isolation often needed to separate species. So the Trinidad Piping Guan, Trinidad’s only endemic, is very special. It’s also BIG with a long neck, colorful wattles and known to inhabit lush but difficult to search forests. It is very limited in distribution even on this small island. Until a few years back one had to venture to a wild stretch of forest on Trinidad’s Northeast Coast to try to find one. I had made five or six trips to this dual island country and had yet to see one.

Luckily, this day I was with Roodal and David Ramlal who have not only keen eyes as guides, but also instinct. David has spotted the birds up this road one morning when out with a group interested in finding large insects around the communication tower lights. Several quiet birders had seen it and he was willing to work with our group for a try. Breakfast was waiting. Coffee was waiting. So were we. Guans love fruit, and as we were about to give up, it was the sound of their eating that David keyed into. Before our eyes was a group- three rather incredible black and white Aburria (Pipile) pipile (scientific name) locally known as PAWI. We had a good ten minutes to watch them, so marvelous as they are highly endangered, a Red List species of the IUCN. There are likely less than 200 individuals left in the world, but environmentalists and scientists are working to secure the population. Their sudden appearance in forests close to the Asa Wright Centre brings hope they may be increasing in number. They are a member of the guan, chachalaca and currasow families.

Muskox Near the Arctic Circle at Nome

Muskox in Nome

While in Nome we had many highlights.  One for me was spending time with Muskox. The incredibly helpful and friendly staff at the Nome Visitor’s Center gave us a tip to try up by the new windfarm on a ridge above town. There we found a herd which soon settled back in to activities of feeding and, for the males, hopeful breeding. The rut had just begun and the males had little action but watching them swagger, waving their skirts of fur was something else. The young look baffled at these emerging adult endeavors (the rut has just begun) and took refuge, peering out behind their mothers like small children behind a curtain.

Muskox are native to Alaska but were extirpated by the mid-1800’s.  In an effort to restore the herds, 31 animals were brought to Nunivak Island from Greenland in the winter of 1935/36. As the herd built up, Muskox from here were taken to other locations starting with a move to Nelson Island in the 1960’s.  From here they emigrated to the mainland near the Yukon Delta region.

Young Muskox peers out at the world...

In the 1970’s 36 Muskox were brought to the Feather River to restore a population to the Seward Peninsula where Nome is situated. In 1981, an additional 35 animals were released near Teller. Today over 3000 Muskox occur in several herds and we saw them daily, at least at a distance. 

The males have impressive horns with a thick plate over the skull. Young of the year and yearlings are frisky and most entertaining. We watched them perched on a ridge with Norton Sound of the Bering Sea behind, a rich color palette of fall tundra behind – very special!

Black Bear Mother on Alert

Its summer in Yellowstone and bears abound!  In the past week we’ve seen bears daily, most recently we watched two sets of Black Bear with cubs. One mother fed voraciously while her young double-basketball sized youngster slept. A clever one, he lounged atop a Witches Broom (a mass of contorted conifer twigs that grow tightly together in response to fungal infection) like a puppy on a couch. My favorite bear was one with cinnamon tones in her pelage. She grazed non-stop in lush grass by a picnic area in Red Lodge, seemingly unaware. Then, one off-noise and she instantly rose to respond, to protect those cubs if needed. That ability to INSTANTLY change is a defining part of the character of bears. It commands our respect each day as we loll in fields of flowers and search out birds. Today we are off to look for nesting Common Loon, Moose, Trumpeter Swans, Sandhill Cranes and more – in one of Yellowstone’s more remote corners – the southeast side via Grassy Lake Road – and we’ll be on the alert for bears!

Mexican Spotted Owl Southeast Arizona

Mexican Spotted Owl photo by Carla Bregman

Beatty’s Guest Ranch, nestled in between the immense cliffs of Miller Canyon is one of my favorite places to go birding in Southeast Arizona. Hummingbirds abound, and this year as in many years we had a beautiful White-eared Hummingbird that came in very close to feeders. We observed seven of the 11 species of these tiny avian gems before starting up the trail, so it already seemed like a great day when we came eye to eye with a singing Red-faced Warbler. Eva was able to film it and, as it was our fourth day in a row of seeing this specialty of Mexican affinity, it edged its way further toward our vote of #1 Trip Bird. But then…. Competition! In a particularly cool and shaded part of the canyon, just after a stream crossing where heavy limbs of dense maples arched over the trail, Carla spied a Mexican Spotted Owl. Nonchalant is an understatement for the demeanor of this bird. It completely ignored us as we whispered in hush voices and backed off a bit not to disturb it. Two hikers walked by and joined our circle of admiration. We had heard it was roosting today ‘over the trail’ but had not expected it so close and so beautifully framed. Carla Bregman captured this lovely shot – thank you for sharing it Carla!

PANAMA – Morning with Monkeys

White-faced Capuchins

Zipping around Gatun Lake of the Panama Canal in a small boat, dodging super cargo ships and dredge units is WAY too much fun! On a sunny morning with wind in our hair we crossed into quieter coves to search out Greater Anis, Snail Kites and Rufescent Tiger-Herons. We left from the dock close to our hotel as our birding guide donned a new hat, that of boat captain. Yes, sir! Magnificent Frigatebirds soared on thermals above us and on bending tree branches Anhingas carefully preened each of their glossy feathers. But the real show stoppers today were primates of two species: Mantled Howler Monkeys and White-faced Capuchins. Two young Howlers intently fed on a shrub near the shoreline that had new leaves. They hung on thin branches with little support and one took a plunge as it reached just a bit too far for a tender morsel. We delighted in watching a troop of capuchins, particularly a shy young one that clung to its mother’s back. It mirrored her movements and expressions; their faces are etched in our memories of a fine morning on the Panama Canal.

Bachman’s Sparrow – Signature of the Long-leaf Pines

 

 

Bachman’s Sparrow in Long-leaf Pine habitat

If Florida’s Panhandle is Florida’s Forgotten Coast, then sparrows may be forgotten gems of the bird kingdom. I find them to be both interesting and beautiful. For me this Bachman’s Sparrow is a signature of mature Long-leaf Pine forests. I love to walk in their realm. On this February day, my group had not heard one male utter a note of its wispy, chattering call.

I stopped off an unnamed road just north of Highway 98 when I spied the perfect combination of habitat features. Bachman’s Sparrows thrive in open pine savannas with big (80 yr. plus) pines with a lush grass understory. A few shrubs thrown in the mix is fine, but in places like this, where the US Forest Service manages the area as nature once did, with frequent low intensity fires, this 5.5 inch fugitive finds refuge.

Once widespread in the Southeast U.S., Florida, Louisiana and Georgia now have the largest breeding populations according to Breeding Bird Count data analysis. Bachman’s Sparrows are short-distance migrants which winter in the southern Gulf Coast states. This morning an inquisitive male responded by popping up on a Longleaf Pine branch. From this fine perch it slowly surveyed its surroundings and our group before uttering an almost inaudible soft song, one quite different than its normal pattern.

Bachman’s Sparrows are one of the few species endemic (unique or restricted in range) to the U.S. Once widespread, the range of Long-leaf Pine forests has suffered a 95% loss. For us this was a rare day with a rare bird in rare habitat. We savored the moment until distracted by another rare one – a calling Red-cockaded Woodpecker…

Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow: Acrobat of the Marsh

Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrow - Acrobat of the Marsh

Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrows lurk within dense reeds of Florida’s Panhandle coastal marshes. For much of the winter they are quiet, but today we heard it’s harsh, husky buzz and were delighted when it came in to our rendition of its song. Like us, this bird was enjoying Florida sunshine, a chance to get away from winter travails and gloom. We’d been gorging ourselves on the region’s fresh shellfish and seafood while it chose spiders, small snails and seeds. The bird was calm and so much at home in its realm. What an acrobat! It was Linda who first noticed it doing the splits – grabbing separate reed stems that swayed. My photos revealed that, other than when on the ground, this was its common mode of travel. Today we had a glimpse into the talents of this marsh-dwelling 20-gram (3/4 ounce) acrobat! See our full Trip Report and Species List soon on www.naturalistjourneys.com.

Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow – Acrobat of the Marsh

ARIZONA: Week-old JAVELINAS

Week-old Javelinas catch up with the herd

I wish I’d been home to watch week-old javelina babies experience their first rain. I write now from Florida having left Arizona just as a rare winter storm, bringing much needed moisture, came in. I wonder – did these impossibly cute and ruggedly tough little ‘piggies’ hide under one or more of the multiple females they’d nursed on for comfort and nutrition on the days I’d observed them? Did they frolic, hunker down or simply endure our badly-needed delivery of moisture? This past week I got a glimpse at seeing the world through javelina eyes in three observations sessions at the home of a patient friend who called to say “they’re here, I can hold them”. His scattering a little extra bird seed allowed me to photograph and observe herd dynamics that proved to be far more fluid than I imagined. I knew that, unlike many hoofed mammals, female javelinas do not synchronize births and that young can appear any month of the year. But as with so much of nature – to see is to believe! This herd had two one-week old youngsters, one about a month old, two adolescents of perhaps four to six months, and a bold, fat, almost adult-sized juvenile that still tried to nurse females that matched him in size. All of the young nursed at more than one female. The two youngest were particularly tolerated and I watched them range close to several members of the herd, sampling access to potential dairy bars. They left dry females quickly, but lingered at others to take a long draw. When the weather changed the morning before I was to leave, I watched as the ample-bodied teenager took charge as a babysitting commander. He corralled the three youngest to stay crouched in grass by the stream as all adults fed with intensity. Windows of opportunity to watch such behavior are rare. I want to turn to my library to compare these notes with others. I wonder how my friend, a scholar of birds, finds time to write with distraction so close at hand. From Florida I can imagine the herd today, returning to my friend’s bird feeders where they will suck down large quantities of seed intended to lure in sparrows, thrashers, quail and some of our Southwestern winter residents. I hope current economic trends don’t threaten his bird seed budget!

COSTA RICA: Resplendent Quetzal

Resplendent Quetzal Costa Rica

I believe the sounds of M.’s cooking quiet anxiety and even attract Resplendent Quetzals to her patio.  From her simple home perched on the edge of the wild Rio Savegre Valley she offers ‘Comida Tipica, a bright smile and patience to our group. We wait. We’ve already been here once today, enjoying a rainbow of bird color presented by other species. The quetzal’s chief competitor to date is the day-glow Flame-colored Tanager. Now at day’s end we return. We are tired, and hungry. We smell beans and rice cooking, chicken sautéing and being spiced. Where IS this bird? M. has greeted us as we drive in with a sigh, saying “he was here from 1:00pm to just about five minutes ago….” Its ten minutes to five, good light has gone. We wait. Only Nancy, a veteran watcher, honed to patience waiting to view Yellowstone’s sometimes elusive wolves, stays optimistic. Jackpot! HE flies in, a male ready for breeding, sporting long decorative plumes atop his tail. We witness at first the elegant view of his back, feathers well in order as he lands in a tree down slope. Then with startling agility he leaps – onto a perch just shy of M’s wild avocado tree. My camera captures a rather disheveled creature, wanting only one more morsel of rich succulent fruit before roosting. Like a movie-star caught back stage, we share an intimate glimpse into the real quetzal in which function trumps elegance. It is an intimate moment and once witnessed, we leave feeling comfortable and knowing this icon of Central America’s cloud forest must eat, just like the rest of us. Want to read on? Here is last year’s Trip Report. This year’s report – coming soon! http://www.naturalistjourneys.com/pdfs/07FinalreportCR_pix.pdf

Resplendent Quetzal Costa Rica

Yellowstone Trumpeter Swans

Trumpeter Swans w/cygnet - HOPE

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Subzero temperatures broke as we descended off the Yellowstone Plateau, heading to the Bozeman airport after a great week of watching wolves in Lamar Valley. At a spring-fed pond near Livingston I was thrilled to spot four pair of Trumpeter Swans, one with a lone large, but tell-tale gray cygnet. We pulled over to watch them from a safe distance as they seemed a bit wary. The adults with the cygnet were vocal and I smiled as I heard their name-sake calls ring out in the clear cold air. Their calls seemed to lift towards the lofty peaks of the Absaroka Mountains that frame the east side of Paradise Valley. This wild haunting sound lifted my spirits as well. With so much cold weather, we had seen few swans this week. In winter, Yellowstone typically has three times as many Trumpeter Swans on its waters than in it holds in summer. At this time, birds that breed in Western Canada join the small core of Rocky Mountain Trumpeters that reside here year-round. Members of these two populations intermingle in places like this open water pond, nestled along side the largely-frozen Yellowstone River. I could not be sure if these cygnets had made the long migration with others of Western Canadian origin or if they might be some of the few survivors of challenging conditions that led to record-low reproduction in the Tri-State region surrounding Yellowstone this past summer. Recent reports from friend Ruth Shea, Director-At-Large of The Trumpeter Swan Society, have me concerned about the future of this signature bird of Yellowstone. Just a few days ago Ruth discussed this past year’s dismal statistics. Swan surveys in September of 2008 revealed the entire U.S. segment of the Rocky Mountain population has declined to less than 500 Trumpeters. Of these, 385 adults and 49 cygnets were tallied in Greater Yellowstone, by all measures still the core of this population. I could hope that these were progeny of the pair that typically inhabits this pond. I made a mental note to check with Ruth, or check this area’s status on the Trumpeter Swan’s Society’s website (www.trumpeterswansociety.org). For the moment I just took in the beauty of elegant swans– a few with young — against mountains, blue sky and all things wild. Yellowstone’s Trumpeters can use our help. Why not join the Trumpeter Swan Society and give them a lift today!

Trumpeter Swan w/ cygnet – HOPE!