Sunday, 11 March 2012

Sunday morning with birds

It's a cool, overcast morning out on the deck. It's March and so the beginning of the northward migration of raptors, and we were treated to a nice gathering of vultures, rising from different trees in the forest below and riding out over the beach to rise in the thermals before heading north over the Cahuita National Park. The deck has a tree directly in front which is often covered in small purple flowers in a cone formation. The flowers give way to small lilac coloured berries which the toucans and aricaris love. A flock of toucans visited this morning and we watched two toucans either fight or begin a mating ritual: banging their beaks together then falling madly and rapidly downwards spiraling almost out of control, before swooping back up again to repeat the beak banging. When they left the aracaris came with their dangerous silhouettes and hunched narrow shoulders. Meanwhile the oropendulas were sweeping through the trees with the blaze of their golden yellow tail feathers showing their flight. There's another large forest tree to the immediate left of the deck with small white flowers, and now small green white berries. This is a wonderful tree to see parrots. This morning we have blue headed (Pionus menstruus) and brown hooded parrots (Pionopsitta haematotis), yesterday we had white crowned parrots (Pionus senilis). It is really fun to watch these beautiful birds, such acrobats! Normally we see smaller light blue parakeets eating these berries, but I haven't seen them yet. They better hurry, the bigger parrots, and the squirrels are enjoying the harvest.


  1. Nice update, Ancel. Sounds peaceful, yet exciting with that toucan display. I bet that is mating behavior. :-)

  2. I haven't encountered anything even a fraction as handsome as that parrot, but I was walking along the cycle path and heard the most wonderful song coming from a tree right next to me. I saw the bird almost immediately, although more by luck than judgment since it was a tiny little dark brown thing with a soft brown throat. It made a noise out of all proportion to it's size. I looked away and pretended I hadn't noticed it because they don't sing when you look at them - self-consciousness I expect - and it sang a few more times. A heartbreaking rising and falling which trailed away into nothing. As so often with birds and people, it's the dowdier ones with less in the way of plumage that sing most beautifully.


thanks for sharing!