SHHHH! Bird Specialists in Training! (Part One)
(Poza Honda Reservoir – Manabi Province, Ecuador) Just past ten in the morning, our birding party of three peered beyond the rustic bamboo corral in hopes of identifying the raucous oropendolas that had been playing hide and seek with us for the past two hours. Luis Saltos – bird guide from Chone and Mindo – and I were guests of “Don Jorge” Arnet, owner of a lovingly-tended tract of land at Poza Honda. (Jorge also owns the house that I rented for the past two years before I moved to Portoviejo.) The three of us were conducting an all-day census of bird species in the area with hopes of the area being approved for Audubon’s 2020 Christmas Count. We had been birding since 6 A.M. in intermittent drizzle.
A few hours earlier that morning, two birds buzzed us, and we exclaimed, “What was THAT?” as I snapped two out-of-focus images of the rapidly-vanishing birds. “Oropendola?” I looked at Luis for confirmation. “That whooshing sound?”
Left: “Jorge” Arnet, owner of Casa Poza Honda and coffee/cacao farm; Right: Luis Saltos, bird guide from Mindo and Chone.
We consulted several books and hoped to see those birds again. The (McMullan/Navarrete) Fieldbook for the Birds of Ecuador places all species of oropendolas in other areas of the country. This particular elusive group of birds must have taken a holiday vacation to Poza Honda, and we were trying to decide, “Russet-backed or Chestnut-headed.” Two years ago my friend Xiomara and I saw and photographed one Chestnut headed Oropendola, so my bets were on that species. Photos are oh so important in documenting out-of-range species, even if the photo is a bad one.
I waited at the next curve and watched Oropendolas fly towards my friends. “Did you see them?” I exclaimed later, “Yes!” they replied, “Lots!”
There were fleeting glimpses of ‘a lot’ half an hour later – then another viewing half an hour later near the bamboo corral. The Oropendolas were out of sight, but my drizzle-baptized camera managed to document one Rufous-headed Chachalaca in the distance, one Tropical Gnatcatcher way up high, and a Long-billed Hermit inspecting flowers along the living fence.
‘Don’t forget about me,’ says the Golden-olive Woodpecker!
States the mule: “A year ago there was one lone human staring at the birds. Now there are four!”
The last thing I expected to see was another human on the seldom-traveled road and staring at the three of us. A tall, lean and well-scrubbed young man, he wore an expression of curiosity as if observing Santa Clause placing last-minute gifts beneath a tree – or gnomes and fairies in another realm. Continue reading