Archive for Peru 2010
Peru: A Mountain Stream
Posted by: | Comments
The rushing streams of Peru’s Andes are about as different as can be from the sluggish rivers of Amazonia. And naturally enough, the birds are different, too. In the lowlands at Cachuela, we were excited to see a pair of very rare Brazilian Teal, while the mountain rivers produced the aptly named Torrent Duck. And where we’d enjoyed watching Capped Herons and Rufescent Tiger-Herons on quiet jungle ponds, this noisy Andean freshet gave me my first look ever at Fasciated Tiger-Heron, a bird I’d long wanted to see if for nothing more than its strange name.
Stocky, secretive, and weird, tiger-herons are among my favorite ardeids. The genus Tigrisoma is named for the heavily barred plumage of juveniles; the species name fasciatum refers to the same character.
“Fasciated” is a word nearly as strange as the animal itself. When used in description of animals, it usually means “banded” or “barred.” The word occurs in the English or scientific names of everything from Pale-browed Tinamou to Black-bellied Wren; but in a number of avian cases, it’s not at all clear just what fasciation is being referred to. I certainly don’t think of Wrentit as heavily barred, or Band-tailed Pigeon. In some instances, the word appears to be used instead in the rather diluted sense of “striped,” which explains such names as trifasciatus for the Three-banded Warbler, a modest Basileuterus with three crown stripes. I suppose that it refers to the big pigeon’s tailband, but I’m at a complete loss as to what is fasciated about Wrentits, if anything–and without access to Gambel’s original description, I may never know. Help, anyone?
One thing I do know is how to pronounce the word. This isn’t a plover/plover or pileated/pileated matter; there is actually a correct pronunciation of “fasciated,” and the vowel of the first syllable is the same as that in “fasces,” “fascia,” “fascicle.” It’s not hard.
Swallow Tanagers
Posted by: | CommentsI’d been lucky enough to see the most transcendently beautiful of tanagers a few times before, but this first trip to Peru provided the only opportunities I’d had to ever watch theses green and blue beauties actually do anything.
Like the aerial predators they’re named for, Swallow Tanagers spend a lot of time in the air catching insects; they don’t hunt with quite the aerobatic skill of their eponyms, of course, but rather flutter forth like absurdly bright, absurdly short-tailed tyrannids to take small insects before returning to a treetop perch.
In contrast to their airy habits when feeding, Swallow Tanagers nest, more swallow-like than tanager-like, in burrows in rocky banks.
The pair I watched prospecting endured repeated run-ins with a pair of Black Phoebes, with whom they no doubt compete for nesting sites. The phoebes emerged apparently victorious from every tussle, but the tanagers kept sneaking back in.
The sweet little green-barred female returned over and over to the shallow depression behind her, nicely shaded by a big rock; it wouldn’t surprise me to find that she eventually lays her eggs there.
Swallow Tanagers, I discovered this time, come in at least four colors: the bright powder blue of the adult males and the parakeet green of adult females, of course, but young birds are just as striking, the males green with blue heads and the females an odd greenish brown. All of them, though, belong to the species Tersina viridis, making the beautiful Swallow Tanager one of those species named not for the stunning colors of the male but for the slightly more subdued hues of a female type specimen.
Peru: A Day on the Water
Posted by: | CommentsOn the last of our three mornings based in Puerto Maldonado, we took a boat from the Durand Brothers Lodge up the Tampobata River, puttering slowly through the smoky morning air.
Gunnar and Alex said that we were too late for the parrot show at the macaw lick, but I have to say that good close views of Scarlet, Red-and-green, Blue-and-yellow, and Chestnut-fronted Macaws, along with several other smaller psittacids, provided spectacle enough.
After an hour’s leisurely travel, we were at the trailhead for an oxbow lake, Cocha Tres Chimbadas.
The blue sign warned us of a four-mile hike, which we somehow covered in about thirty minutes: the sign lied. But even if it had been the threatened 5.5 kilometers, the lovely, quiet backwater that awaited us would have been worth it.
After gawking at the noisy Hoatzins on the shore, we got aboard a large, stable catamaran–powered only by the wind and the arm of our captain–and moved slowly up the lake, staying close enough to shore to get great looks at Silvered Antbird and far enough out to enjoy the cooling breeze. A small group of Black-capped Donacobius was accompanied by a Peruvian rarity, a Unicolored Blackbird–a country tick for Gunnar.
The shores were haunted by Ringed Kingfishers and Striated Herons, and at least three Sungrebes allowed close approach.
Birdy as the lake was, it was a furry creature that was most exciting. I’d missed Giant Otter in Guyana a few years ago, and it looked like we wouldn’t see it this time either–but finally a brown-and-white face broke the surface, followed by an impressively long, thick body and a stout tail. Otter! We wound up with four or five sightings, mostly at some distance; one animal swam around with its mouth open, revealing a dentition quite imposing enough to keep me from dangling my hand in the water!
Peru: Two Words. Pheasant. Cuckoo.
Posted by: | CommentsThe Durand Brothers Lodge is a great place to see some secretive birds that can be very hard to find elsewhere. A Great Potoo, always a delight to see, roosts high above the main building; on the day we saw it, it was even awake!
But a much bigger surprise awaited. All morning we’d been hearing the three-noted whistles of one of South America’s most desired birds, and then suddenly there appeared above our heads an honest-to-goodness Pheasant Cuckoo.
For fifteen minutes the bird sat above us in the trees, giving far better views than my horrible photos might suggest. And for much of that time it sang–click on the photo below to hear the slightly buzzy whistles that filled the forest.
This bird alone, which so few birders have ever seen, made the entire trip to Peru worthwhile–and will make the Durand Brothers Lodge famous if this performance proves repeatable.
Peru: A Community Effort II
Posted by: | CommentsOur guide on my Kolibri Expeditions tour was Alex Durand, one of the most knowledgeable birders–and two of the keenest eyes and ears–I’ve ever met in South America.
Along with six of his brothers, Alex is also catering to the physical needs of visiting birders by building a new eco-lodge on land they own together.
Right now, the Durand Brothers Lodge is still a basic place, hosting chiefly backpacking birders whose simple expectations are likely to be happily exceeded by the showers and flush toilet already installed.
But the spacious new dining room is a sign of greater things to come.
Alex and his brothers are hoping to have the new lodge complete by May 2011, offering comfortable accommodations and hot food to birders who would otherwise have to commute from Puerto Maldonado (as we did) or even farther.
And are there birds?
Oh yes.
We spent two full days birding the rich forests around the lodge, concentrating largely on such bamboo stunners as Rufous-headed Woodpecker and Bamboo Antshrike, both of which we saw remarkably well. Red-throated Caracaras announced our passage through the forest, and at one point we were surrounded by a herd of white-lipped peccaries–the only time during the entire tour when I felt the least bit nervous about my safety!
Fortunately they left us pretty much alone, crashing and gnashing their way through the undergrowth, as did the several monkey species flashing through the treetops overhead.
