TWO BIRDERS TO GO

Nothing but Thrush

2012-01-29T18:00:00.000+08:00

I'd been feeling quite trashy these past few days. Runny nose and all those trashy stuff that comes with the common cold kept me housebound. And Cynthia even had it worse!

Saturday morning and my condition was a little better. A quick trip to nearby University of the Philippines' campus would cure me of my birding itch and maybe even my viral ailment. Who knows? The outdoors might be the thing I really needed. My wife preferred to spend her miseries in bed.

Besides I promised our new birding friend, Peter Ting, that I'd meet up with him there. He has not yet seen the annual sweetheart of U.P. birders, the colorful male Blue Rock Thrush. I pretty much guaranteed him that he will definitely, without doubt, get to photograph this bird.

Welllllll........

Of course, he did!

Thankfully, just as soon as Peter got off from his car, the Blue Rock Thrush came flying in, as if on cue, and landed on a branch not that far from us. It was quite a satisfying photo session that ensued afterwards. The thrush even granting us opportunities to take its picture while feasting on those red palm fruits.

Even good things had to come to an end. Our search for other birds near the Vargas Museum turned out to be so fruitless that we had to resort to photographing butterflies. The area by the beltway was even worse. By the end of our morning birding sortie we had nothing but thrush to show for our efforts.

At least Peter got his lifer!

Return to Dumaguete, Day 3 - "Sex" in the morning

2012-01-23T17:55:00.000+08:00

We heard about it. We knew about it. We just didn't think we would be doing it. "It" refers to the habal-habal, a unique mode of transportation in the Southern Philippines. First of all the name is derived from the Visayan word "habal" which means "having sex" although the reference is usually to animals in general and to dogs in particular. Basically a habal-habal is a motorcycle with an extended back portion to accommodate more than one passenger. Three adults behind the driver would be squeezed in such a way that they would resemble dogs in the act of procreation.

We made arrangements with renowned bird guide Rene Vendiola that we will visit him at his home early Thursday morning. When he said he will have us picked up from the town of Valencia, we thought all along that a motor tricycle would be sent at our disposal - it being the most common way of getting around in this area. When a guy on a motorbike showed up Cynthia and I looked at each other with trepidation. We've never ridden a motorbike before and now we were about to board not just an ordinary bike - we will be riding a habal-habal. Without helmets even. Taking a deep breath and uttering a short word of prayer we began our trip. After what seemed like an eternity while hanging on for dear life, we arrived at Rene's place. He was smiling naughtily as he witnessed two grinning senior citizens, who apparently had a great time having "sex", trying to dismount from the motorcycle with great effort.

Then came the birding. As expected we saw the martial arts specialist of the birding world, the Black-belted Flowerpecker. This species is a can't-miss here at Rene's backyard.

Roaming around the patch of woodland that he owned, Rene was able to present me with another lifer, the noisy Philippine Tailorbird.

The Spotted Wood Kingfisher that he said frequented his place was there momentarily but was chased away by a Collared Kingfisher even before I was able to take a good look at it. The Pygmy Flowerpecker was also quite elusive that I only got a few glimpses. The Purple-throated Sunbird though was more accommodating than its Siquijor cousins.

Rene had other commitments that morning, so we thanked him for his time and hospitality. Inasmuch as it was still early, he suggested that we visit Forest Camp. Although severely damaged by Typhoon Sendong, the place was now accessible, he assured us. And the best way to get there was by, you guessed it, the dreaded habal-habal.

The trip to Forest Camp took even longer and negotiated some road undulations. But we were now veterans to this type of transportation. "Bring it on", my wife and I both said with great confidence as we pasted ourselves to the driver's back.

Forest Camp was indeed accessible and some parts had been restored to a degree of normalcy. But the birds were still sparse. The usually brazen Crimson Sunbirds now remained at the tree tops. The Visayan Bulbuls were calling but were unseen. Only the Philippine Magpie Robins gave us good looks.

After about an hour later, our beloved habal-habal driver, George, came to pick us up per agreement. He volunteered to take us to Dumaguete but we politely refused and asked that we be taken to nearby Valencia instead. After all, at our age, we can only handle so much "sex" in a certain span of time.

A refreshing lunch at Kri somehow brought us back to a sense of reality. Did we really do what we just did? were among the questions that hovered in our minds as we indulged in mahi-mahi and prawns.

Back at the hotel, our birding day ended through the courtesy of a female Olive-backed Sunbird which was building a nest only a few feet above the ground and not far from the laundry room where hotel employees come and go.

Return to Dumaguete, Day 2 - Van for the Road

2012-01-23T09:42:00.000+08:00

While we were having breakfast at the hotel restaurant, we were keeping an eye at the tall bare tree next to the hotel grounds. Birds would come, alight on a branch, stay there for a while then fly off. This happened in such regularity that I could not stand it any longer. I hurried back to our room, grabbed my camera and resumed my breakfast. Only to leave it every now and then to go outside and tried to take pictures of those birds whenever they stopped by (that's right - tried - because they were so small and so high up the tree). All in all my morning repast had been interrupted by Chestnut Munias, a Grey-streaked Flycatcher and (insert fanfare here) Java Sparrows! You read it right - Java Sparrows! I found it interesting, even bordering on funny, to find this species for the first time in the Philippines, here in Dumaguete, right next to a hotel.

After breakfast, Cynthia and I decided to explore the Ang Tay Golf Course grounds across the street from our hotel. We dared not explore the whole area inasmuch as we came in via the back entrance, so to speak. Nevertheless we did find some birds - most of which were perched high up, I mean way high up the only tall tree in the vicinity. With only my 300mm lens at my disposal, photographing these birds can be quite frustrating! Once again Chestnut Munias were there, along with Asian Glossy Starlings, a Collared Kingfisher and Zebra Doves. At least the Barn Swallows gave better opportunities by perching on the electric wires.

Nine in the morning and we were in a quandary as to what to do next. Cynthia sought the assistance of the hotel concierge in renting a van. One hour later and we were on our way to Tanjay, a coastal town with lots of ponds along the highway. Just like yesterday, we informed our driver, Danny, that we would every so often ask him to stop so we could take pictures of birds along the way. And stop we did on numerous occasions. Shorebirds were simply all over the place - Common Greenshanks, Javan Pond Herons and Whiskered Terns.

Common Greenshank

Javan Pond Heron

Whiskered Tern

The Sandpiper family was well represented with Wood, Marsh and Common species.

Wood Sandpiper

Marsh Sandpiper

Common Sandpiper

We were even rewarded with a lifer! A lone Malaysian Plover was forlornly roaming the mudflats.

We were back at the hotel around noon. It was a satisfying couple of hours birding.

Return to Dumaguete, Day 1 - Boat for the Best

2012-01-22T17:04:00.000+08:00

We had just landed at Dumaguete airport when out of the blue my wife declared, "Why don't we go to Siquijor today?" Interestingly I was also thinking about the same thing. It was still early - not even 9 am yet - and we didn't have any specific plans to begin with anyway. After a quick check-in at the Royal Suites Inn we rushed to the pier to inquire about the next departure time. Thankfully there was one leaving at 10:15. We bought two round trip tickets and boarded the M/BCA Jaziel. The weather was perfect and the sea as calm as can be.

About an hour later we docked at Siquijor and were immediately mobbed, along with the other passengers, by tricycle and minivan drivers. Not wanting to be taken advantage of, we stopped by the Tourist Information booth for advice. Inasmuch as this was our first time to visit this island, we were completely clueless as to where to go. We told the tourism agent our dilemma. We just want to see birds we explained rather sheepishly. What about Coco Grove? we asked. A bit expensive came the reply. How about Salagdoong? Too far. Then as if a light bulb suddenly switched on, he suggested "Why not Mt. Bandila-an? It has a forest and definitely got some birds in it." Well that definitely got our attention.

From the throng of drivers that met our group when we disembarked, only one had the tenacity to stick with us. He was there when we were consulting with the tourism guy and so when we finally decided to go to Mt. Bandila-an he was more than willing to take us there. We agreed on a price and off we went. We explained to Ronald that we would be looking out for birds and we would at times ask him to stop so we could get a better view. Which happened quite soon enough. We have started our slow ascent up the mountain road when I saw a Blue Rock Thrush by the roadside. We asked our driver to stop. I jumped out as soon as he did. But the bird flew off before I could even raise my camera to my eyes. Going after the thrush I saw another bird. It was partially hidden from view but I could tell it was brownish with a black crown. Deep in my heart I knew it was the Streak-breasted Bulbul - a bird found nowhere else but here in the island of Siquijor. And I was unable to take its picture! All the while that Cynthia and I were chasing these birds, Ronald was down the road following a bird sound. Soon he was waving at us and pointing to something at the edge of the forest. I quickly ran to where he was and looked at where he was pointing. To my utter delight, two (yes, two!) Streak-breasted Bulbuls were hopping from branch to branch, pausing every now and then to see if this guy with a camera would be a disturbance to their feeding activities. They eventually flew off to the deeper part of the forest and I walked back to where Cynthia was waiting with a huge grin on my face. We have barely started and we already got our target bird!

Our destination was Camp Bandila-an which basically was a patch of forest managed by the DENR. The three of us (by now Ronald the driver was so into birding as well) spread out along the roadside trying to trace where all those bird sounds were coming from. Once again Ronald's sharp ears and eyes were able to locate an Orange-bellied Flowerpecker busily foraging on a mistletoe. I furiously tried to follow the non-stop foraging of this tiny bird.

A brief pause and our diligent driver told me, "Sir, may ibon pa dito." (Sir, there's another bird here) and pointed me to where a brown bird with a yellow belly was flitting on the low branches. At first I thought it was just one those very common Golden-bellied Gerygones. But then, when I looked through the camera lens, it appeared to be bigger and even had a white-throat. Not only that, it didn't have the hyperactive habit of a gerygone. Whistler! It had to be a Whistler of some kind. Only when we got back to the hotel that I was able to properly identify it as a Yellow-bellied Whistler (well duh! the yellow belly was so prominent I wondered why I didn't think of that right away.)

Soon it was time to go. We had to be at the pier before 3:45 pm for our return trip to Dumaguete City. As we glided down the mountain road, Cynthia and I were both glad at how our first birding adventure in Siquijor turned out. Two lifers in less than three hours was not bad. Not bad at all. Actually it was the best!

Bittern than Before

2012-01-14T11:51:00.001+08:00

"Let's go to Candaba this Friday", I told my wife with such conviction that she was momentarily taken by surprise. Cynthia has already gotten used to my waffling when it comes to deciding where to go birding. Perhaps it was the disappointment that I and my birding buddies Gabs and Edu experienced last Saturday that altered my decision making demeanor. My wife who opted to stay home that day was of course spared of such misery. When she noticed my unusual firmness she concluded, and rightly so, that I needed a redemption.

They say that you can tell how the rest of the day will go if the morning is started on the right path. Our right path on that cool Friday dawn turned out to be Cafe France. Yes, you read it right. Cafe France.

Let me elaborate on that for a while: Our prayer and fasting regimen (an annual practice by the Victory Christian Fellowship group of churches of which we are members) ended the night before. So here we are ready to take on a full course breakfast for the first time in seven days. Normally, on any trip to Candaba, Cynthia and I would have our early morning repast at Jollibees in Baliuag. However, on this particular outing my wife remembered seeing a Cafe France (one of our favorite restaurants) along NLEX and decided to splurge a little to commemorate the ending of our weeklong fast. The omelet and ham and bacon and eggs with crispy croissants, believe it or not, paved the way for a fruitful, or shall I say bountiful, day of birding in Candaba.

We entered via the "backdoor" to the Sanctuary. After parking our car, I headed toward the berm but stopped short because there was a bird quietly huddled among the grass. A pipit? It certainly looked like one and I hoped it was not the very common Paddyfield. But for now I'm happy even if it was so.

From the berm the flotilla of ducks can still be seen. As a matter of fact they are even closer now. The Northern Shovelers can easily be distinguished from the Philippine Ducks without the use of binoculars. The Chestnut Munias were once again quite plentiful only now they were less skittish.

A pleasant surprise was the presence of Common Greenshanks snoozing along with the Black-winged Stilts and Whiskered Terns. But the first "Woo-hoo!" of the day happened when a usually elusive Common Kingfisher alit at eye level thirteen meters away!

The adrenalin rush had barely dissipated when Cynthia, bless her super sharp vision, pointed a bird to me. I was driving slowly scanning the lily covered pond for Purple Swamphens. Cynthia yelled "Stop!" I stopped.

"Look!" I looked. But couldn't see anything.

I was waiting for "Listen!" but she was already frantically pointing at something "there!"

Sometimes I am just amazed at how my wife does it. She was sitting on the passenger side of our car and farther away from the pond. My body was even partially blocking her view. But she saw "it". Only after looking intensely at the dense vegetation on my left, where the Black-crowned Night Herons frolic, did I see "it".

"It" was a Black Bittern.

I thought everything would be sort of anti-climactic after these two fabulous photographic opportunities. But Candaba had more in store for us that morning. Maybe not as breathtaking as the Common Kingfisher and the Black Bittern but the additional birds we saw later certainly made up for the dearth of sightings last Saturday.

For one thing, the ducks were much closer now and I was able to get pictures of the Tufted Duck, a Green-winged Teal and a gorgeously patterned male Garganey!

We ticked off several more birds like Yellow Bittern, Island Collared Dove, several Pied Bush Chats, more calling birds, three Waterhens, two Turtle Doves and a Grassbird in a bare tree.

As we were driving home I was telling Cynthia what a difference birding was today from the last time I was here. Today was definitely better than before.

A Sinatra song even came to mind:

Birding is birdier, the second time around
Just as wonderful with both Rails on the ground

It's that second time you hear the Doves' song sung
Makes you think perhaps that birding like youth, is wasted on the young

Birding's more comfortable the second time you go
Like a friendly home with your dear wife in tow

Who can say what brought us to this miracle we've found
There are those who bet birding's just time spent
But I'm oh so glad we went
the second time around

Now who says Friday the 13th is bad luck?

The More the Manyer

2012-01-09T14:43:00.000+08:00

I already had misgivings about our upcoming birding trip to Candaba. Although Cynthia and I had a blast last month in photographing those oh so friendly rails, this time around I was having this strange feeling that things would be quite different. And I mean the bad side of different. Nevertheless I acceded to the request of bird photographer friend Gabs Buluran that we go visit Candaba the first Saturday of 2012. Joining us in this sortie was another friend, Edu Lorenzo Jr.

Our primary target was the rail population that were, to put it in a single word, abundant, not more than two weeks ago. As we approached that haven of the Rallidae family we were surprised at the conspicuous absence of birds! Only the Eurasian Tree Sparrows (yeah, who cares about those) were there. Deep inside me I was squirming at the thought that my fears were becoming a reality. Little did I know that even worse was yet to come.

We entered the "backdoor" towards the Sanctuary. Just a few meters in and we three were all excited to see some Wood Sandpipers basking in the early morning sun.

I thought our luck had drastically changed. Gabs, who was driving, stopped at the first bend. We all got out and looked at the hundreds of dots - I mean ducks - out there snoozing on the huge pond. While Edu was busying himself in chasing after the Chestnut Munias, Gabs and I waited patiently for the White-browed Crake to fully expose itself onto the ricefield. It never did.

We drove on. Munias were plentiful. And skittish. The Pied Bush Chats even more so, if that is even possible. We stopped where farmers were plowing the field thereby attracting hundreds of egrets (both Intermediate and Little) and Whiskered Terns. My desire to take a photograph of an individual Intermediate Egret became a challenge since there were just too many of them feeding close together.

Moving on. Gabs suddenly stopped when he saw a small flock of Black-winged Stilts starting to stir from their slumber. Thankfully these long-legged birds were still groggy from their sleep that we were able to get some good shots without them flying off.

Even the usually nonchalant doves that barely avoided my car's tires the last time I was here were nowhere to be seen. Except for a Red Turtle Dove that flew to a nearby tree when we approached and afforded us a quick shot.

As we approached the Sanctuary we noticed people. Lots of them. This was no surprise though for I knew all along that birders and bird photographers would be here today. And the reason for my trepidation earlier. Not that having all these bird enthusiasts here was bad. It's just that it is possible that our photographic chances might be a little hampered. That would be because of the presence of many vehicles going hither and thither on a very narrow road.

So we made lemonade from lemons and simply enjoyed a convivial conversation with our kindred spirits. Maia, Jops and Clemence, members of the Wild Bird Club of the Philippines (WBCP), even allowed us to look through their spotting scopes at the raft of ducks floating lazily in the distance. In the course of our bird talks we learned that they have seen some species that we haven't. Perhaps it was just bad luck on our part. Which, unfortunately, continued even on our way home. Upon my suggestion, we decided to once again look for the Rails by the roadside. A few did show up but as soon as we get the bird in our sights, a motor vehicle would zoom by driving our subject into hiding.

At the end of the day and looking back at what we experienced that morning, I felt a pang knowing that my apprehensions did actually come to fruition. When I told Gabs about it the day before, he said he is determined to get those Buff-banded Rail photos regardless if we encounter a throng of people. To which I jokingly replied, "The more the many-er".

Ending the Year with a Hoot and a Howl

2011-12-31T14:18:00.000+08:00

It's the last day of the year. A time when folks frolic and engage in merrymaking. A time to thank the year about to pass and to welcome the coming one with high hopes and joyous hearts.

And to go birding. And while at it, why not even add a new species to our lifelist?

A gazillion thanks to our friend, Ding Carpio, who broke his birding hiatus just at the right time. It all began when an "uncommon, poorly known" (according to the Kennedy Guide) member of the Strigidae family curiously decided to make the tree next to his office its home. Please note that access to Ding's office premises was restricted. When he posted pictures of this most unusual occurence in the internet, we die-hard, dyed-in-the-wool, bird photographers begged, cajoled, even threatened our dear, accommodating friend to take us where the action was. He relented, of course. How can he not?

Early in the morning of the last day of 2011, seven enthusiastic, adrenalin-pumped birdnuts joined Ding in taking photographs of Bubo philippensis. The endemic Philippine Eagle-Owl, the largest owl found in this country, simply sat there giving us that wide-eyed look, occasionally assuming an angry bird stance.

Who are these people?

Angry Owl

An hour passed and it was time to go. Our host still had some errands to do and so did Cynthia and I. As we all bade goodbye to each other and wished each other the best of the coming year, we were all united in our thoughts:

We sure ended the year with a hoot and an owl!

The Candaba Trilogy, Part III - Hues Dunnit?

2011-12-30T17:20:00.000+08:00

Closing out our half-a-day's birding at the Candaba Bird Sanctuary was our encounters with the various hues that made this place an avian paradise. Let us now take you on a visual trip to the wonderful world of colors....

First off, let us meet the bitterns:

Yellow

Cinnamon

then the Herons:

Grey

Purple

Finally, a Turtle Dove:

Red

A joyous and colorful NewYear to all from Two Birders to Go, Bob & Cynthia Kaufman.

The Candaba Trilogy, Part II - Far 'n' Near

2011-12-30T09:44:00.000+08:00

Never have opposites been more pronounced than that morning at the Candaba Bird Sanctuary. Cynthia and I were standing on a berm gazing at tiny flecks floating on the huge pond seemingly a thousand miles away. These flecks are actually ducks. Thousands of them. Mostly Philippine Ducks, as best as we could tell, not benefitting from the aid of a spotting scope. A smaller group of darker spots were on the right side. My binoculars tell me, even insisted upon me, that they were Tufted Ducks. I, after much persuading from my mesmerized eyes, finally admitted that I got a lifer. I even managed to convince Cynthia that yes, we have an addition to our lifelist.

Trust me those are ducks out there.

Tufted Ducks! Tufted Ducks!

Compare that with our teasingly close encounters with the bird kind - those of the Zebra Doves and Red Turtle Doves. They were so unaffected by our presence that at various times our vehicle almost run over them. They would be inches away from our car before they would take off, land a few meters ahead and repeat their almost suicidal actions.

What was absolutely surprising and really took the cake was that very same derring do routine done by those nonchalant doves was done by, get this, an immature Lesser Coucal! It was casually walking ahead of us that I thought a Roadrunner miraculously appeared in the Philippines. We were so entranced by this impossibility that I barely had time to take its picture - through the windshield at that - resulting in a frustrating extremely bad photo.

The Philippine version of a Roadrunner :)

Near or far, birding was quite electrifying that cloudy morning in Candaba

The Candaba Trilogy, Part I - Road Railing

2011-12-29T18:15:00.000+08:00

It was a very interesting half-day birding in Candaba in the sense that three unique stories were born out of it.

Let's start off with a strange early morning experience with the Rallidae family. We planned to go to the sanctuary via the "backdoor" route - a narrow dirt road bordered here and there with overgrown weeds. It rained the night before and even now the skies were filled with clouds pregnant with rain. As we were parked by the side of the road to Paralaya wavering whether to throw caution to the winds and tackle the very likely rain-soaked, muddy trail or heed good ol' common sense. We were in this state of deep and serious ponderation when a local jogger who probably noticed our dilemma clouded faces, suggested that we take the other route near the school instead. That one is paved most of the way and certainly wouldn't pose a problem for our vehicle he assured us. We thanked our "angel" profusely and promised to heed his advice. And as we would discover later, very grateful that we did.

However, it was during our moments of cogitation that we noticed the rails. Lots of them! By the side of the road. Even crossing to the other side with such bravado when the mood strikes them. So we decided that before going to the sanctuary (via the paved ingress) we should drive a little further along Maharlika Avenue and get intimate with those supposedly skittish marsh birds.

Now imagine a video loop where a piece of action gets repeated over and over but without the ennui of monotony. For in this case the main subject kept changing in a surprising way. We parked the car on the grassy shoulder, got off and prepared our camera gears. A few yards ahead of us a member of the Rallidae family would be feeding by the roadside. In one case it was a White-breasted Waterhen in the company of a flock of Eurasian Tree Sparrows.

Not far from it another family member, this time a White-browed Crake, would ungainly walk - not run - across the street with its disproportionately huge legs.

At the other side of the road, the third member, this time pairs of Buff-banded Rails would insouciantly saunter by.

Switch these three species into those different settings and you get an idea of what we were up against.

Cynthia and I agreed that we would get more coverage if we stationed ourselves away from each other. So we would attempt to get near our subject rail of the moment, stalk it, get a picture until a speeding vehicle or a roaring motorcycle or a bike rider or a curious pedestrian would spook the bird which would then dive into the nearest clump of bushes. We would wait a few minutes and when our subject has determined that the coast was clear, it would reappear and resume its feeding thus beginning the loop once again.

After a while as human and vehicle traffic increased as the morning wore on and resulted in shorter photography sessions, we tried a new tack. We resorted to mobile photography with good results as well.

To say that it was an exhilarating start of a birding morning was an understatement. We have never seen so many White-browed Crakes, White-breasted Waterhens and Buff-banded Rails ever before. And they were in such close proximity to one another right at the edge of a provincial road! Viva Rallidae!

Dragnest

2011-12-27T11:26:00.000+08:00

Looked everywhere for my glass this morning. Couldn't find it. I was worried. Went to the yard. Shocked to find this. A beautiful bird. Dead. Lifeless. Blood oozing from its neck. Brutally murdered. Asked my glass what happened. Feigned innocence. But I knew something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Dum da dum dum....dummmm!

The Almost Forgotten Art of Bird Observation

2011-12-18T14:11:00.000+08:00

The morning sun was playing hide-and-seek among the clouds...first concealing itself behind the gray curtains then bursting forth in warm bright sunshine like a child in a frolicsome mood.

Cynthia and I, responding to our birding itch yet not desiring to get trapped in the chaotic traffic that was expected to happen this time of year, decided to go to nearby University of the Philippines' campus in Diliman.

Mesmerized by the changing colors brought about by Phoebus's frivolity, we wanted to see the brilliantly hued Blue Rock Thrush. Like a gift from the sun god we found our bird so impervious to our photographic approaches even displaying a trait heretofore unobserved by us.

A certain palm tree near the MSI Building was heavily laden with bright red fruits. Our beloved thrush would perch on the concrete ledge of the college structure and from there would sally forth, grab a fruit while on the wing, and fly back to its original perch. Such behavior was certainly interesting to note, considering that we thought that this species was strictly insectivorous. Another thing was the method by which it plucked the fruits while in flight unlike the competing Yellow-vented Bulbuls that alit on the bunch before gobbling its bright red food.

Having had our birding itch scratched, so to speak, my wife and I decided to pass by the area next to the Vargas Museum to find some icing on our cake. Well, we did find a lifer - a most intriguing one at that. Previous knowledge regarding this kind has now been been disproved. We discovered that it was not really hateful as it remained calm all the while we were observing it. We noted that it peacefully fed among the palm leaves. Moreover, no pigs were harmed nor even threatened at all.

By being diligent in our observation process, we were able to discover some new characteristics of the birds we saw, perhaps even adding some valuable information to ornithology, both local and...virtual.

Good, Better and Bes

2011-12-15T18:21:00.000+08:00

Cynthia's cousin, Voltaire "Bes" Yap, was visiting from California. Being a bird photographer himself, he wanted to take some pictures of the local avifauna. Due to the fickle weather, we thought it prudent to take him somewhere close yet birdy enough. The La Mesa Ecopark was the perfect choice.

Early Wednesday morning we were scouring the mini-forest area hoping to see the Red-bellied Pittas, or the Ashy Ground Thrush, or the Common Emerald Dove, or the Mangrove Blue Flycatcher. One hour later and I was hoping that a bird, just any bird, would appear. "Where have all the birds gone?" I thought to myself as embarrassment slowly crept over my entire being. "Bes came all the way from the U.S. for nothing?" as I furtively glanced at our guest afraid that he will get bored and deeply disappointed. If he was, Bes certainly didn't show it as he gamely took photos of leaves and spider webs and..

I breathed a sigh of relief.

At around eight in the morning, I suggested that we go the spillway to wait for the White Wagtails. On the way out and out of despair, we took photos of the ubiquitous Brown Shrikes and Yellow-vented Bulbuls just so we can satisfy our craving for a picture of a bird. Moving on, we were stopped on our tracks by a very noisy pair of Black-naped Orioles. Not only were they very vocal, they were photographable (normally not easy with these treetop dwelling creatures).

They eventually flew but not before we have had our fingers numbed from the constant pressing of our camera's shutters. "That was good!", interjected Bes who in his jubilation treated us to a cup of "taho" (sweetened soft tofu with pearl tapioca).

With bouncy steps we proceeded to the viewing deck next to the spillway where we were greeted by a flock of Little Egrets. In the distance a Common Sandpiper was bobbing its behind rhythmically as if dancing to some latin beat. Not far from it a Grey Wagtail was living up to its name. One hour later and still none of Bes's target birds had shown up. I excused myself and went to the Vermiculture area. There I prayed that I may not be put to shame as I watched every tiny movement in the spillway below. Thirty minutes later and still nothing. Soon Cynthia and her cousin came asking for an update. When I shook my head, Bes informed us that he will be going to the Butterfly area to photograph those tiny colorful flitting insects instead. He had barely gone a few steps when I saw something blue alight on the concrete dike.

"Kingfisher!" I yelled.

"Kingfisher!" Cynthia shouted at her cousin.

Faster than you can say kingfisher (again) Bes was next to me propping up his camera gear. Together we took photographs of the Common Kingfisher and I can see my friend grinning from ear to ear.

As the little blue bird flew off a couple of black-and-white birds took its place. "White Wagtails!" I whispered as a third bird joined them. "The whole family even!"

What followed was a fast and furious clicking of camera shutters. Eventually the wagtail family flew away. "That was better!" said Bes gushing with excitement.

And we all left happily....ever after.

The Tail Continues....

2011-12-10T15:35:00.001+08:00

Tis the season for wagtails. Everywhere we went there were wagtails. Whites and Greys at the Ecopark spillway, then Yellows at the Agripark in Los Banos. And now the tale continues again with a Grey Wagtail in Antipolo!

It was just a side-birding trip so no bazookas were brought along, only rifles, you know, just in case. Cynthia and I visited our friends, the Webbs, at their home in Palos Verdes and since we had good birding experiences in this small, forested subdivision (remember the Slaty-legged Crakes?) we thought we would just mosey around before we go home and see what birds we would find this time. There were the usual suspects of course: the Eurasian Tree Sparrows, Brown Shrikes, even some Olive-backed Sunbirds! Pied Trillers and Golden-bellied Gerygones were well represented. Zebra and Spotted Doves populated the quiet streets. A White-breasted Waterhen made a brief appearance. The White-throated Kingfisher was as skittish as usual, so unlike a completely insouciant Long-tailed Shrike that modeled for us from just a few feet away.

The real story of the day was when we saw a Grey Wagtail. The first thing that came to mind was, what was it doing here? There isn't a flowing stream anywhere nearby. Although the place was lushly wooded, we are still inside a subdivision and a house was not that far away.

Observe. Take notes.

The bird was hunting for insects close to a trickle of water flowing towards a storm drain. Looking at the bird itself we noticed that it was constantly bobbing its tail. It was brownish grey in color with a slight yellow wash underneath. A white stripe runs over its eyes and there were also some white on its wing feathers. The throat was whitish. The vent and rump areas were bright yellow. All contributing to the fact that this bird was a Grey Wagtail.

Make a sketch and show the pertinent details needed for a positive identification.

After fulfilling the duties of a puristic birder, we then turned to photography.

As bird photographers we observe and take mental notes on our subjects, too, just like any self-respecting birder. Then we document such information with the aid of pictures, showing as much as possible the colors, habits and habitats of the birds we encounter in our birding trips.

Birding and bird photography complement each other and that is an undeniable fact.

I Am Curious, Yellow?

2011-12-05T10:54:00.001+08:00

First of all, to some of you "googlers" who got here because of the title: this has absolutely nothing to do with the 1967 movie of the same name. As a matter of fact, this has everything to do with birds and bird photography. So there.

Now where was I? Oh yes, birds!

The recent arousal of interest in wagtails spawned in part by the appearance of several species at the La Mesa Ecopark brought forth some serious discussions as to the method of identifying them. The White Wagtails were the easy ones, being the only kind that has a black and white color. The similarly hued Forest Wagtail inhabits, as its name implies, wooded areas, unlike the Whites which prefer flowing streams. So it would be impossible to get confused between these two species.

Which brings us to the Grey and Yellow Wagtails. In their non-breeding (winter) plumage, the possibility of mistaken identifications is alarmingly quite common. When we first saw the non-white wagtails at Ecopark, my first impression was that they were Yellow. After all they do have yellow underparts. It was only when the photos were posted via the internet that the analyses from our birding friends ensued. The yellow rump and white patch on the feathers all pointed to the fact that these birds were Grey Wagtails!

Last Saturday while at the Agripark in Los Banos, Cynthia and I saw lots of wagtails! From a distance they all look the same - brownish upperparts, yellowish below and a white stripe over the eye. They were all frolicking on the fallow fields next to us.

The Kennedy guide describes the habits of Yellow Wagtails as: "Often encountered in groups ranging from a few to hundreds of individuals in open country, particularly ricefields, marshy areas and parks, on the ground at all elevations." A Guide to the Birds of the Philippines by Robert S. Kennedy, et al, page 308. (emphasis mine). Whereas Grey Wagtails almost never inhabit open areas but rather on or along stream beds.

some yellow in the underparts

very little yellow underparts

I am curious, Yellow?

Wholly Cropped!

2011-12-01T10:37:00.001+08:00

I am not really sure why I decided to bring just my short lens to the La Mesa Ecopark spillway. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of the terrain - this will be the first time that we will go there. Or maybe it was the thought of walking from the entrance of the Ecopark to the place where the Thrushes stay - a long, uphill route.

In retrospect, the question still remained a big "why?" inasmuch as we didn't go inside the Ecopark to look for the Thrushes anyway and the terrain next to the spillway was as even as can be. But all that is water under the bridge, or in this case, over the rocks.

What is important is that we got what we came for. For the five of us (my wife, Cynthia, myself, Jun Osano, Mark Jason Argallon and his brother, Paul Kevin) our singular purpose of being there was to look for (and hopefully take some pictures of) the White Wagtails that birding friend, Ruth Francisco, saw two days ago.

After waiting for about an hour, we saw all three wagtails at around 8:15 am. It was interesting that these birds visited the area with almost clockwork regularity. They would stay for a few minutes, fly off, then return to the same place in just about an hour. Learning from this behavior, we positioned ourselves to the spot closest to where they would always land. At about 10:05, one of the wagtails flew in and for the next ten minutes we took its photograph to our hearts content.

However, as I was saying earlier, because I was using my 300mm lens with a 1.4X extender, my subjects were merely dots in the resulting photographs. To be able to make a presentable image, I had to do an almost 100% crop.

Thankfully, during the in-between times when we were waiting for the reappearance of the White Wagtails, there were other interesting birds that kept us busy. Once again, because of their distance, I had to do some major cropping in order to fully show the beauty of these feathered creatures.

Barred Rail

Common Kingfisher

Common Sandpiper

Osprey

Grey Wagtail

Things go better with Cuckoo

2011-11-28T09:06:00.001+08:00

It's the real thing. I saw it. I got a picture of it. Unlike that self-loving, egocentric, narcissistic, and may I add, imaginary, flycatcher. Cynthia, myself and birding buddy, Ralf Nabong saw the Philippine Hawk Cuckoo in less than ten minutes after we got to the place where the naked woman stands. Unlike the black-and-yellow bird that purportedly stays in the trees next to the building where bibliophiles go but wasn't there the four times we've been there.

The pause that refreshes. After a frustrating, time-consuming, blood-boiling, wasted effort at waiting for something that never comes, it was a refreshing change to see an uncommon bird quite easily. It was a pause that became a catharsis to a soul darkened by a fruitless search.

It was a joy to discover that things indeed go better with Cuckoo. The uncool attitude of the Narcissus Flycatcher made the Philippine Hawk Cuckoo cooler. The day became brighter, our demeanors became more pleasant. So why don't you have a Cuckoo and a smile?

Long trip anatomy

2011-11-21T09:11:00.001+08:00

At the end of the day we had: tired eyes, sore back, rubythroat.

The first two most probably are due to our, ahem, age. The last is sheer luck. We just came from a birding trip to Subic, some 220 kilometers away from home. It was a tiring but rewarding journey. Rewarding not just because of the birds seen but more importantly because of the company. With us were good friends Doc Clemn Macasiano, who was our host when we visited Dumaguete last September, Toto Gamboa, Tonji and Sylvia Ramos and Wency and Tina Mallari.

The road leading towards Hill 394 was quite birdy that morning. So birdy that we had to be at different places so that we can get a wide coverage of the area. Joining me and Cynthia was Toto. Sylvia, Tonji and Clemn went farther up the road while Tina and Wency trailed from behind.

It was here that I got the Siberian Rubythroat (Luscinia calliope). Toto and I were walking up the trail when I spotted a brown bird perched on a branch that had fallen to the ground. Without even thinking, I immediately took a shot at it. Unfortunately it flew off before Toto could get a shot.

Siberian Rubythroat

Once again, the three of us decided to split up so we could maximize the number of birds that we would be able to photograph. Regrouping later and looking at the results of our efforts, Toto had a Greater Flameback, I had a Guiabero and Cynthia had a White-eared Brown Dove.

My Guiabero

Cynthia's White-eared Brown Dove

The road to Nabasan trail gave us really good looks at Whiskered Treeswifts and Blue-throated Bee-eaters. Surprisingly the trail itself was very quiet.

Whiskered Treeswift

Blue-throated Bee-eater

Soon it was noon and we all had a great lunch at Gusie's thanks to Clemn's generosity. The after-lunch trip to Dinalupihan turned out to be a bad idea as we just wasted an hour's travel time for nothing. From there we proceeded to Cubi Point hoping our luck would change. We were all inside our respective vehicles mulling on our next move when Cynthia said, "Is that a crow?"

"Looks like it," replied Toto who was riding with us.

"But it has some orange coloring to it" my wife argued.

"Might be a Philippine Coucal, then."

That was when we saw the rest of the gang suddenly jump out of their respective cars and rush towards a fruiting tree. We quickly followed and there in front of us were a pair of Luzon Hornbills feeeding.

female Luzon Horbill

male Luzon Hornbill

The huge billed birds eventually got their fill and so did we in taking their photographs. It was starting to get dark but we still had one more place to go - the roosting place of the Blue-naped Parrots. And we were not disappointed! We even had a bonus of about seven Ashy Minivets that came and perched on a pine tree apparently to spend the night there.

Blue-naped Parrot

Ashy Minivet

The sun slowly sank in the horizon and we still have miles to go before we sleep so we bade our goodbyes and off we went for the long trip home.

Going for the Keel

2011-11-14T09:04:00.001+08:00

Bird photographers are, generally speaking, a persistent sort. If they failed to accomplish a mission the first time around, they will try again. As long as an opportunity to take a picture of a particular bird presents itself, they will be there. Sometimes that persistence pays off, sometimes not.

Bird photographers are, generally speaking, not easily discouraged. If they fail to photograph a target bird they will shift their focus (pun intended) on another species. Bird photography, after all, is almost always a challenge - something that bird photographers, generally speaking, crave for.

A very good example was what happened to a trio of bird photographers last Saturday. For Neon, Bong and myself, the desire to capture the image of a male Narcissus Flycatcher still burned deeply in our photographic souls. We failed in our first attempt about a week ago. Persistent folks that we are, we were back at the area next to the Main Library of the University of the Philippines in Diliman hoping that our luck would change.

It didn't.

Bird photographers are, generally speaking, quite adept at making lemon juice out of sour lemons. During our vain vigil for the vagrant flycatcher, there were occasions when we turned the proverbial lemons into lemon juice. There was the time when our better halves (who accompanied us into this birding foray) spotted a Coppersmith Barbet nearby. Lenses were aimed and shutters clicked at the colorful bird.

Then there was the focusing challenge presented by a flock of frolicking Flyeaters.

Or compensating for the backlit image of a Long-tailed Shrike grabbing a lizard by the head.

The real adventure came later though. When we were pretty much certain that it would be no use waiting for the Narcissus, Neon suggested we go for the Flowerpeckers reportedly flying friskily close to the Post Office building. Did I mention that bird photographers, generally speaking, love challenges?

Facing the mistletoe tree, the three of us spread out and observed the comings and goings of those tiny, active, feathered creatures. "Red-keeled Flowerpeckers!" Neon informed us. It was quite a surprise to learn that these dainty birds thrive in this semi-urban landscape. It was a trying experience photography-wise, yet exhilarating as well.

All the while that we bird-photographers were having our adrenalin rushes, our faithful partners decided to sit it out and killed time by munching chestnuts and sharing spousal stories.

The adage "time flies when you're having fun" certainly rang true for us that special sunny Saturday. Soon it was almost noon and it was time to go.

We were all thankful that we decided to go for the keel. And got keeled!

Angry Birds - a photo blog

2011-11-10T09:58:00.000+08:00

It's not that I ran out of words (perish the thought!), it's just that sometimes pictures speak louder...

White-throated Kingfisher -When will this @#% rain stop?

Snowy Egret -You want a piece of me?

Ashy Drongo - It's AsHy, not AsSy Drongo, aight?

Osprey - Did you just say I have a fishy smell?

Velvet-fronted Nuthatch - I'm just pissed that I had to eat upside down, ok?

Long tale sighs

2011-11-09T13:15:00.000+08:00

It all came down to sessions of telling tales and photographing shrikes.

Early morning found Cynthia and myself at the Main Library grounds of the University of the Philippines in Diliman. Already there were Tonji and Sylvia Ramos and Tina Mallari - friends and fellow bird photographers. Soon Rey Sta. Ana and his buddy, Rocky Sison joined us. Professor Gerry de Villa showed up briefly and gave a short, albeit very informative lecture on the whys and wherefores of our target species. Then came Gabs Buluran. The catalyst, if you may, of our being there. It was Gab's photograph of a male Narcissus Flycatcher - taken at the very spot where we are now gathered - that precipitated this event. Later in the day we were joined by Maia Tanedo and Jops Josef, friends and birders as well.

For about three and a half hours we waited patiently for the black and yellow-orange bird. Those long, lingering hours were spent in recounting birding experiences punctuated here and there by sighs of frustration as our longed-for flycatcher decided to forage elsewhere. Every so often our conversations would be interrupted when a Long-tailed Shrike or a Brown Shrike or a Pied Triller would fly in and land in a closer-than-usual perch.

Sometime in the midst of this seemingly interminable wait, we were briefly entertained by a dramatic staging of a lover's quarrel by a pair of Colasisis (Philippine Hanging Parrot). Unfortunately this intriguing scenario was held high up in the canopy of a fruiting tree.

At around 9 am Gabs left for work. One hour later, Cynthia and I had to call it quits inasmuch as she has a lunch appointment with her childhood friends.

Later that day we learned that the Narcissus did a total no-show attitude even to those who decided to remain behind.

Well then, allow me to show you a Long-tailed "Narcissus" Shrike:

And Cynthia's Brown "Narcissus" Shrike

A Matter of Thrush

2011-10-31T20:44:00.000+08:00

I recently turned 65. Such a milestone age should have been reason enough for some grand celebration but sadly, it didn't turn out that way. For the simple reason that I got sick. Somehow my digestive organs picked this day to stage a revolt against my internal constitution. And made me an unwilling participant in the occupy the bathroom movement. Repeatedly. For several days.

By Saturday, October 29th, things were all quiet on the digestive front. Everything seemed as normal as can be. Time to go birding. Inasmuch as I was still leery about my health, I thought it prudent to just go to nearby University of the Philippines' campus.

As I was parking our car at the MSI (Marine Science Institute) grounds, I was thinking aloud whether the annual visitor, the Blue Rock Thrush, would already be there.

"What's that bird on the ground?" Cynthia asked.

I looked.

"Blue Rock Thrush", I replied in the calmest, most insouciant way.

Unfortunately, it flew away even before I could get my camera gears out of the trunk. Hoping that it would return in the not too distant future, I whiled away my time by photographing the antics of a Philippine Pygmy Woodpecker.

"Do you think the Thrush would come back?" my wife was curious.

"I trust it would"

"What's that bird perched on the palm tree?"

"Blue Rock Thrush", I replied in the calmest, most insouciant way.

Unfortunately, it flew away before I could focus on it.

This time a Pied Triller provided me the much appreciated entertainment as we waited for the Thrush to reappear.

Cynthia, on the other hand, was losing in the game of hide-and-seek with a Yellow Wagtail. Several attempts at locating it turned out futile. Soon she gave up and as she approached the tall acacia tree, she started to ask,

"What bird....."

"Blue Rock Thrush!" I excitedly interrupted her. And began taking pictures of the bird lest it decide to take a leave once again. Thankfully, it didn't. It was one of those what my wife aptly termed "modeling sessions" where our subject just stood there - facing left, facing right, turning around, moving to an area with a different background, etc.

Having had our fill of the Blue Rock Thrush, I thought I'd push our luck and go for the Philippine Hanging Parrot that hangs out in a nearby gated community. Having obtained our permission from friend Jv Noriega (who lives in that subdivision), we sought the tiny green bird. And found nothing. Unfortunately, some men were clearing the tall grass nearby which probably spooked our target bird.

As in any birding trip, we had some good sightings and there were disappointments. One thing that came out from my sick days was that I had time to reflect on many things. Turning 65 and being under the weather put me in a cogitative state. I resolved that at this age, I need to enjoy life even more. I will not allow disappointments, envy, and other petty stuff to ruin my day. I am blessed with a wife who loves me and shares the same passion I have for birding. Simply being with her as we look at the beautiful feathered creatures, whether common or a lifer, is something that I treasure with all my heart.

Postscript: As I write this, I have once again fallen ill, albeit not as insufferable as the one I had a week ago. Still it cost us a trip to Los Banos. The way my body is behaving right now could affect future birding trips. But I put my health and my life in the hands of God. I know He will be there for me. It's a matter of faith and trust in Him.

Say What?

2011-10-21T17:16:00.001+08:00

What makes birding very exciting is the uncertainty. Sometimes you get to see what you're looking for and sometimes you don't. And sometimes you see what you were not expecting to see. On some rare occasions you see something and you don't know what you just saw - at least not right away.

One such rare occasion happened the other day. Seven intrepid birders (Jv, Jops and Maia, Adri and Trinket, me and Cynthia) were once again at that now famous spot in Quezon City hoping to be honored by the appearance of one of two (preferably both) kinds of kingfishers. After almost two hours of waiting, seven disappointed birders were turning their attention to any feathered creature that flitted among the high branches of the Cupang tree. Soon seven birders were complaining of stiff necks resulting from watching all those Arctic Warblers and Golden-bellied Flyeaters.

Until Maia shouted, "Wait! that one doesn't look like an Arctic Warbler!"

The other six birders said, "What?"

Binoculars and long-lensed cameras were raised in unison.

"Looks like a flycatcher!"

Seven birders thought/whispered/said, "What kind?"

Pictures were taken and the Kennedy Guide was consulted. Asian Brown, maybe? Dark-sided? After much mulling and deliberations still no definitive conclusion was arrived at.

That evening pictures were posted on the internet. Expert opinions were sought. The following day, the announcement was made that the mysterious flycatcher has been identified.

What is it??

Narcissus Flycatcher (Ficedula narcissina), possibly a worn first year male or a young female.

Still a lifer for me and Cynthia.

Note: The flycatcher pictures that I took are so horrendous I decided not to show them here. I still have some dignity you know.

Say what?..

P.S. See Jv Noriega's photos in Facebook. They are so much better!

Spot marks the X

2011-10-18T15:35:00.000+08:00

The three of us exchanged glances. Each one trying to detect some glimmer of hope, an encouraging look from the other. It has been an hour that we have been standing here, eyes flicking to every tiny movement in the trees before us. The pounding noises echoing from the construction nearby not affecting our concentration. However, our expectations were fading with each passing minute. Our glumness enhanced by the ever constant roar of rolling thunder. Dark clouds veiled the afternoon sun.

What made this vigil even more agonizing was that this scene was a rerun of our experiences that morning. Three hours of waiting for a bird that never as much as showed a single feather to three searchers. Add to this the fact that this particular reddish migrant showed itself with maddening ease to others who sought it.

For me and my wife, Cynthia, this was fast becoming a reprise of our heart-breaking un-encounter with the Spotted Wood Kingfisher in Dumaguete. Now this immature Ruddy Kingfisher dares play this taunting game with us. Not that it is a must-see for Cynthia and myself - we have seen it's brightly colored conspecific Palawan counterpart. And got pretty good pictures even.

The skies have started to darken and as the minute hand of my watch approached the hour of four, I sighed, looked up for the umpteenth time at the trees - and noticed a movement! A movement that promised a revival of sagging expectations. With trembling hands, I grabbed my binoculars. "Spotted Wood Kingfisher!" I exclaimed. A fresh shot of vitality brightened the faces of my despondent confreres.

For the next hour-and-a-half, we dwelt in a dream-like photography session with this colorful bird. Our friend and host, Jv Noriega, a noted movie and TV director, was in his element - getting pictures and videos from every conceivable angle and posture. Who needs an unpredictable diva when the real superstar was modeling before us to our very heart's content.

To us, Ruddy became an ex-celebrity. That mark of distinction now belongs to our beloved Spot.

Strawberry Ice Cream

2011-10-13T16:28:00.000+08:00

The little boy has never tasted Strawberry Ice Cream all his life. It was so hard to find in the place where he lives. Every time he goes to the neighborhood store to look for it, he would always get the same answer: No strawberry ice cream today, son.

Then one day, when his school visited another town for an outing, he was told by one of his classmates that the local store there was selling his favorite flavor. He rushed to the place only to find out that the strawberry ice cream was all gone. The little boy's heart sank in bitter disappointment. Reluctantly and with sadness he walked away only to gasp in pain as he accidentally bumped a prickly cactus plant on his way out. Bleeding physically and emotionally, he was a picture of dejection.

A few days later he learned that all his classmates who went to the local store right after he left were able to buy his much coveted strawberry ice cream. The poor boy felt as if the world was collapsing all around him. Why was it that everybody got it except me? he wondered silently, grief filling his whole being.

Many days passed. The little boy was gradually getting over his sorrowful experience from the other town. As he was reading his book one rainy day, a classmate informed him that the store in their village now offers Rocky Road ice cream (another hard to find flavor). Even though he had tried Rocky Road before he thought that maybe if he had it again it would ease his misery. He dropped everything that he was doing and hastily went to the store. Only to be met with: sorry, son, we just ran out of Rocky Road. Head bowed, he slowly turned to leave when he suddenly heard: But we have Strawberry Ice Cream, would you like to have that instead?

Now substitute Ruddy Kingfisher for Rocky Road. And for Strawberry Ice Cream, Spotted Wood Kingfisher.

For a clearer understanding of the above "parable" please see my earlier blog

Confessions of a pea-shooter

2011-10-10T16:57:00.000+08:00

Call me lazy. Call me unadventurous. Call me whatever. I admit I am one of them pea-shooters. Or to be more technically precise, a "P-shooter". The "P" of course, stands for the Program mode setting of modern DSLR (Digital Single Lens Reflex) cameras. In this setting the camera automatically sets everything by itself - the aperture and the shutter speed. With this, a person just basically points the camera at the subject and then takes the shot. That person is a P-shooter. And that's what I am. In other words, I am your typical, albeit a little glorified, point-and-shoot picture taker (at this point, it seems rather inappropriate to refer to myself as a photographer). My rationale for being so is that I wouldn't want to twiddle with the camera settings when my intended subject could disappear at any moment. Despite this amateurish stance on taking pictures of birds, I did get some pretty good results of which I am quite satisfied. I am happy and contented as a P-shooter.

Until recently.

A bird photographer friend of mine posted this on Facebook:

Not surprisingly, this taunting illustration elicited a barrage of comments. One particular comment from another bird photographer friend of mine got my attention. In effect, he said that what's the use of having an expensive camera and lens if they are on P mode all the time. A cellphone camera could have gotten similar results, he said.

Ouch!

I was hurt! I was shocked! I was embarrassed! It was as if a knife had been plunged into my photographic soul. I know for sure that this friend of mine never intended his comment as a personal attack on me (we haven't done any bird photography together yet, so he couldn't have known my camera settings while in the field).

After the pain of self-humiliation subsided, I once again began to think rationally. I recalled the time when I first got started in photography many decades ago. Of course I was using film then. With fixed ISOs. In those days cameras still don't have any automatic settings in them. Which means I knew how to adjust the apertures and shutter speeds in order to obtain decent pictures. But then, I wasn't taking pictures of birds yet. Manual settings were easier to manipulate with my favorite subjects then, which were: People (I can always tell them to stop moving) and Landscapes (I can change aperture openings and shutter speeds and the majestic mountain would still be there in front of me). Now that I'm into birds, I resolved to accept the challenge that presented itself to me. Going back to manual settings - it's just like riding a bike, right?

Saturday, my wife and I decided to go to Antipolo to check on the status of the Slaty-legged Crake family. It was a drizzly morning - a perfect opportunity to once again hone my skills in photography. To make the challenge even more formidable, I opted to bring my aging Canon 40D instead of the better light-responding 5D MkII.

It wasn't very birdy that morning - the Crakes were even a no-show - but I was able to take pictures of some birds, using manual settings, under a dark and gloomy uncooperative weather.

Pied Bush Chat - manual setting and exposure, ambient natural light: 1/125, f5.6, ISO-1250, partial metering

Spotted Dove - manual setting and exposure, ambient natural light: 1/320, f5.6, ISO-400, spot metering

White-throated Kingfisher - manual setting and exposure, ambient natural light: 1/100, f6.3 ISO-400, spot metering

I was pretty happy with the results of my "experimentation", if I may say so myself. Perhaps now I can say that I am no longer just a P shooter. I am into M too!

As Munias You Can See

2011-10-05T17:04:00.001+08:00

Finally recovering from the adrenalin rush better known as the Dumaguete trip, Cynthia and I inserted a birding trip in between typhoons.

Our friend Boboy Francisco took us inside the Beverly Hills subdivision in Antipolo and acted as our birding guide. Gray skies and an abbreviated sortie did not yield the species we hoped to find.

We started off by meeting Henry Calilung, a biologist from the University of the Philippines and his band of young volunteers, including Boboy's daughter, Moira. Henry and company were doing a monthly mist netting of the birds found in the subdivision for census and DNA analysis purposes. They haven't caught anything yet when we met them early that morning but when we saw them again after our birding sortie, he informed me that they just caught a Mangrove Blue Flycatcher.

Birding the forested areas of Beverly Hills yielded nothing much except Brown Shrikes which can be seen every 500 meters or so. Every so often we would catch glimpses of a large brown birds - at different places. We presumed them to be cuckoos of some sort. One of those was a bigger than most skulker which Boboy concluded to be a Scale-feathered Malkoha. Too bad it didn't show itself even when we waited patiently and motionlessly for a good 15 minutes.

What was rather common were the munias. They were just everywhere! The Scaly-breasteds were feasting on the fruiting grass stalks while the White-bellieds were surprisingly up in the trees.

A puzzle was an active brownish olive bird which was busily hunting for insects. For now, I would say that it was an Arctic Warbler although I hope that it would be one of those less common species.

Finishing the loop in about two hours, we were all sweating from the humidity and from the strain of walking the undulating roads of this subdivision. We bade Boboy goodbye and assured him that we will be back and try our luck once more. Maybe when the rains finally stopped coming.

Dumaguete, Day 4 - Way there waders

2011-09-29T14:51:00.000+08:00

This was going to be our last day in Dumaguete. But before we leave, there is one more birding foray we will be having with our birding buddies. As had been the case in our earlier sorties, we will be aboard Doc Clemn Macasiano's huge pick-up truck. Joining Cynthia and myself would be Marester, Clemn's better half, Tonji and Sylvia and Nilo Arribas Jr.

Today our destination was the mangrove forest located in the town of Tanjay. It was a cool breezy morning and the drive along the seaside boulevard was invigorating. While passing by some muddy fields by the road, we noticed some waders and so Clemn decided to pull over to check out what birds can be found here. Tonji and Sylvia saw a Javan Pond Heron still in breeding plumage and positioned themselves to take its photograph. Nilo scanned the fields hoping for some unusual migrant. When I asked him what he was seeing, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "oh, just some common greenshanks, common redshanks, marsh sandpipers, stilts, common sandpipers..."

"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupted. "Did you say, 'marsh sandpipers'?"

He nodded.

"Which one?"

"Those with long yellow legs and long dark bills and whitish heads."

I looked and voila! I just ticked another lifer.

And then it rained. Thankfully it was just a short downpour. When it ended we continued on with our journey, stopping once in a while when more Javan Pond Herons were seen along the way.

Finally we reached our destination after negotiating a long and unpaved road. The boardwalk at the mangrove forest was, sad to say, a bit disappointing bird-wise. So we turned our attention to the mudflats across the trail which looked a bit more promising. Promising in the sense that there were birds there. Birds like Little Egrets and an array of waders. The problem was they were just too far away. Sure we can distinguish individual birds through our binoculars, but camera-wise, despite our long lenses, they just appeared to be just a tad larger than specks on our viewers. Simply put, they were waaay over there.

On the plus side, I got two more lifers here: Lesser Sand Plover and Red-necked Stint (and maybe, just maybe, a Greater Sand Plover also).

We were back at the hotel in time for an early lunch. Inasmuch as this will be our last meal in this wonderful city, we decided to splurge. To say that the Sizzling Bulalo and Sizzling Seafood was delicious would be a huge understatement. Add to that a Hawaiian Pork Chop whose taste was so heavenly that it would make you forget your own name. The leche flan for dessert was to die for! As superb as the quality of our lunch was, it was even made more memorable by the people who shared our table with us: to Dr. Clemn & Marester, our deepest thanks for being our hosts - booking our hotel rooms and taking us to the birding places in Dumaguete; to Tonji and Sylvia, for being our constant birding companions throughout our stay - thank you both for the fun and camaraderie (and thank you, birthday boy Tonji, for the lunch!); to Nilo - although we were together for a short time only, thanks for your expertise and knowledge on local avifauna.

As I terminate this series of Dumaguete stories, let me quote from the Terminator: "I'll be back!"

Dumaguete, Day 3 - Spotted

2011-09-28T09:22:00.002+08:00

Today is the opening day of the 7th Philippine Bird Festival organized by the Wild Bird Club of the Philippines (WBCP). After a sumptuous breakfast at the hotel, we proceeded to the Silliman University grounds where the festival was being held. It was nice meeting old friends and making new ones.

Throughout the day though, our constant companion was Nestor Dolina. We visited the booths together, shared the joy of meeting our idol, Cedde Prudente, le photographe par excellence of Sabah, Borneo, and attending the seminars together. But most of all, Nestor was with me and Cynthia when we chased after the Spotted Wood Kingfisher at Centrops (aka Silliman Zoo).

Here was what happened: We were sitting in one of the classrooms giving rapt attention to our friend, Marester Bas Macasiano as she spoke of her renowned grandfather, Dr. Dioscoro Rabor (whom I admired since I was a young man).

She then introduced her uncle, Valfredo, Dr. Rabor's son, who in turn recounted stories about his father.

Time went quickly by and after Valfredo had finished sharing memories of his Dad with us, there was a "quiz" wherein a prize would be given to anyone in the audience who can tell what species of bird was named after Dr. Rabor. To which I promptly replied, "Napothera rabori!" which was a kind of Babbler (somehow I forgot the English name at that very moment). Nevertheless, I still got the prize - a set of bird stickers.

While we were enjoying a buffet lunch hosted by the WBCP, we were informed by Adri Constantino that a Spotted Wood Kingfisher had been seen really close (!!) at the Centrops area. Now this bird had been, and continues to be, my nemesis bird ever since I started birding here in the Philippines. To have one that "close" is an opportunity we would never want to miss. And so right after lunch, Nestor, my wife, Cynthia, and I boarded a tricycle and headed to the kingfisher site.

Centrops is a place where local endangered animals are being kept for captive breeding purposes. Housed in this small forested patch in the middle of the city were Negros Bleeding Heart Pigeons, Visayan Tarictics, Spotted Deers, Wart Hogs, and Crocodiles. The person in charge led us to the trail in between the deer and wild boar pens and pointed to a tree. "That's where they saw the kingfisher two hours ago", he said. We looked and there was none. We told him that we will wait for it to return. "OK", he replied, and left.

I waited at the spot. Cynthia roamed the area. Nestor roamed the area. I still waited at the spot. Then it drizzled. We all rushed under a shed just in the nick of time as heavy rain soon fell. Thirty minutes later it stopped. I took one more look at the kingfisher tree and still could not spot the Spotted Wood Kingfisher. Hearts laden with bitter disappointment we left.

What made this story even more pathetic was when we got back to the hotel and I was about to take a shower, I discovered, to my utter dismay, that my mid-section was full of red spots. Chigger bites! Perhaps my proximity to the deers and hogs enabled those microscopic savages to invade my epidermis. Ah, the irony of it all - not getting the Spotted but getting spotted instead.

That night we attended the dinner hosted by the Governor of Negros Oriental Province. Along with the lavish buffet were performances by the local talents, including some cha-cha numbers and a fashion show. After the program, the music went on and some of us started swaying to the latin numbers. Cynthia and I even danced an impromptu rumba. Little did the spectators know that the reason I was swaying my hips quite vigorously was that I wanted to relieve the itch that had been bothering me so much without being too obvious about it.

Cha-cha-cha!

Dumaguete, Day 2 - Flaming Desire

2011-09-27T11:08:00.002+08:00

Up at the crack o'dawn. Sleepy-eyed Cynthia and I filed into Doc Clemn's pick-up. Sitting beside Doc is his lovely wife, Marester. Joining us at the back seat was our birder friend from Singapore, Jimmy Chew. The other vehicle in the caravan was Christian Perez's SUV. With him was his buddy Ruben, Tonji and Sylvia and Ju Lin. Our destination was the Twin Lakes Resort.

Somehow the trip seemed a lot shorter today than when we drove to this place yesterday. Perhaps the difference was that now I am inside the vehicle whereas yesterday along with Tonji and Alex we were shaken - and stirred - at the back of Doc Clemn's pick-up.

We have barely stepped out of our vehicles when a huge raptor flew just a few feet above us. It was "just" a Philippine Crested Eagle. Nothing to get too excited about. We were all lined up at the viewing deck as the morning sun bathed the whole place in glorious light. Flashes of green before us and shouts of "Blue-naped Parrots!" broke the sylvan serenity.

Soon we (and Christian Perez, most especially) were all agog as species after species started flying in towards the trees in front of us. First came the Bar-bellied Cuckooshrikes, followed a bunch of the white-bellied susbspecies of the Balicassiao. Then came the Coletos with their quaint fleshy heads. We were following some cuckooshrikes which we thought at first to be those oh so ordinary bar-bellied types when Sylvia yelled, "White-winged Cuckooshrikes!" Which sent everyone into a euphoric state as this bird was a lifer for all of us.

Then came the calm. The wave of birds had passed and now we had time to indulge in having breakfast (which the hotel had kindly packed for us, thanks to Marester's forethought and arrangement). It was while having breakfast that we noticed some movements within the hibiscus grove surrounding the trash dumpsite behind the pavillion. Sunbirds, most likely, and our primary suspect was Crimson which we saw almost close-up yesterday. So we didn't give that place much concern and instead concentrated on the nearby bamboo clump after we have finished our morning repast.

That bamboo trees hosted a flock of Yellowish White-eyes which was another surprise. What made it more interesting was this particular group had some orange tinge on its lores (something that the Kennedy Guide did not mention regarding the nigrorum subspecies).

Back at the deck, Jack, the tourism representative who just arrived together with Alex Tiongco, Marts Cervero and a Japanese birder, was pointing to a family of Elegant Tits feeding close by.

Meanwhile, at the trail covered with huge stone slabs, Tonji and the Macasianos were getting shots of the Philippine Tailorbird (which Cynthia and I unfortunately missed). When we joined them, they were chasing after another wave of birds that were frolicking in the tree branches just above a pig pen. Here we saw Black-naped Monarchs and Blue-headed Fantails going after the insects attracted to the sty. Lemon-throated Leaf-warblers (a lifer!) joined the White-winged Cuckooshrikes in the feeding frenzy. As in any bird waves, they all eventually moved on and everything was quiet once again. Except for the incessant chirping from those invisible tailorbirds.

Lunch was "tinolang manok" (a kind of chicken stew) which was not exactly my favorite. It was during lunch that all of us once again noticed some activity at the hibiscus area. Paying closer attention, we were all elated to discover that such activities were coming from no other than Flaming Sunbirds! It has been our desire to see this species not only because of its gorgeous beauty but also because it would be another lifer for us. For the next couple of hours we were entertained by these tiny avian jewels that glowed with a whole spectrum of colors shining brightly under the noonday sun.

Dumaguete, Day 1 - Crimson Tide

2011-09-26T17:22:00.000+08:00

Arrived at Dumaguete, met by the Tourism representatives, checked-in at the Royal Suites Inn and went birding. That pretty much summarized our early morning activities last September 21st. Jack, the tourism guy and great birder, took us to Forest Camp, a small resort just outside the city of Dumaguete. With us were friends Tonji and Sylvia Ramos, Alex Tiongco and two birder friends from Singapore, Jimmy Chew and Ju Lin Tan.

As soon as we got off the van, Alex was already pointing at a bird. The photographers in the group frantically assembled their gear and simultaneously pointed them at....a Philippine Magpie Robin. Oh, ho-hum, whatever!

It was then that Jack pointed at a tiny bird perched on a nearby tree looking at the strange amalgam of non-native Negrenses. And it was then that our ho-hums turned into woo-hoos. That tiny bird was a Visayan aka Black-belted (judo expert, maybe?) Flowerpecker. Lifer number one barely 20 minutes into our birding sortie!

Forest Camp isn't a big place and after we've made the rounds and not seeing anything interesting we all sat under the huge canopy of a mini-stage. A rustling among the leaves grabbed our attention. That rustling was followed by an array of gaudy colors as three different kinds of sunbirds flowed like an incoming tide before us not unlike an avian fashion show. First was an immature Purple-throated - not yet attaining its very colorful full plumage but lovely nonetheless.

Then a male Olive-backed Sunbird flashed its colorful throat hues enhanced by the morning sun.

And for the finale, the piece de resistance, ladies and gentlemen, behold the Crimson Sunbird!

That would have made my day. Although not a lifer, seeing the Crimson Sunbird this close was, quite honestly, completely unexpected. After chasing after an unknown bird that Jack said he saw near the hanging bridge but sadly disappeared because a romantic couple decided that a view of some trees from a swaying span would bring magic to their already syrupy relationship, I returned to the resting area. At least I got a Philippine Bulbul to alleviate the disappointment.

I was wiping my sweaty brow when I happened to look up and saw a.. Cuckoo! I didn't know what kind, but it definitely looked like a cuckoo. I waved at Tonji and pointed to the bird silhouetted above us. Later on, he confirmed that what we saw was a Plaintive Cuckoo and my second lifer of the day.

After another rest period, our attention was aroused this time by a raptor that flew swiftly overhead. Apparently it caught something and decided to have its lunch on a tree branch some 45 meters away from us. Several identities were postulated from within our group until the bird gracefully turned around to face us and thereby settling the issue. It was a Chinese Goshawk. Lifer number three for me.

It was now way past lunchtime and the growling of our stomachs could no longer be ignored. Jack brought us back to the city of Dumaguete, and per request from Sylvia, who had been informed that some birders were already there, took us to the Kri restaurant. If there is anything that Dumaguete is known for (aside from being a great birding place) is its excellent restaurant food! Kri is among the best of the best.

After lunch we all went back to the hotel where Clemn and Marester Macasiano, our hosts, were already waiting for us. A brief breather and we were off again. This time to the Twin Lakes resort. This late in the afternoon, we were not expecting much, and this trip was more of a "casing the joint" foray. Thirteen kilometers from the main highway over a paved, not, paved, not, paved, not........road, Lake Balinsasayao was a sight to behold. It was here that we first saw the local subspecies of the Balicassiao, differing from the all-black birds found in Luzon by having a white belly.

At the end of the day and back at our hotel, exhausted and exhilarated, we just settled for a club sandwich and salad for dinner at the hotel restaurant. Cynthia and I then crashed into bed knowing we will have to wake up early (again) tomorrow.

An Empty Nest - the Epilogue

2011-09-20T17:39:00.000+08:00

We went back to the Slaty-legged Crake nest this morning. The adult was still sitting on it. But then we noticed tiny black heads pop-up every now and then. The chicks, it seemed, were getting restless. The hen (we presumed it was the Mom) however, was not budging. Neon set up his gear and waited. Meanwhile, Cynthia and I took her 7 year old grandson to look for the reported "bayawak" (monitor lizard) that had been seen in the neighborhood. Just as we were about to reach the site of the lizard sighting, Neon called and excitedly announced that the chicks had jumped the nest. I hurried back. Panting and gasping for air I looked and saw an already empty nest.

Neon informed me that the family was still nearby skulking among the greenery surrounding the nest area. So we decided to stake out the place - Neon standing close to the pond and me near the nest. We waited for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally we would catch glimpses of the adult and one or two chicks. But that was it. At half past eleven, I approached Neon to tell him that I would be calling it a day. He was bargaining for a few more minutes when we saw BOTH adults escorting their brood towards our direction. With bated breaths we waited for them to reappear. Several minutes passed and the Crake family still remained unseen.

Leaving Neon behind, I proceeded to walk back to get ready to go home. It was then that I saw all four chicks across the street frantically trying to hurdle the 5 inches of cement to get over to the sidewalk and go where their Mom was constantly urging them on.

"Neon, the chicks are here!" I yelled waving like crazy at him to get his attention. When I looked back, there were only 3 chicks left. I assumed one of them made it safely over the "wall". The mother crake was "tuk-tuk"ing at the embankment next to the sidewalk encouraging her babies to follow her. When Neon joined me, one of the chicks got through some vegetation over the sidewalk. We couldn't see it after that. Neon placed some ramps and asked me to shoo the chicks towards them so that they could use it to climb. One chick made it. The last one, which we assumed to be the weakest, missed the ramp. Looking at it closely, we noticed that it had been swarmed by vicious ants. At first we were afraid to touch the chick lest the human smell would cause the parent to abandon it. But we couldn't let ants torture the poor, day-old crake. Neon gingerly picked it up and patiently removed every ant from its legs and body. Having been assured that no ant was left behind, Neon then placed the chick on the ground where the Mom was pacing back and forth still calling for her babies.

Notice the ants on the feet (above photo) and thigh (below photo)

Neon and I could not leave the place. We were worried about what happened to the first three chicks that were able to get on the sidewalk on their own. Were they able to rejoin their parents? Or were they themselves attacked by ants?

It was only after we could no longer hear the "tuk-tuk" of the adult that we decided to leave. But then another thought bothered us. What if the parents decided to bring their brood to the pond, which means they have to cross the street again. And encounter the elevated sidewalk once more.

With heavy hearts we left the nesting place. We both agreed to just let nature take its course. I was in near tears when I told Cynthia about this totally unexpected event (she was in our host's house while all this was happening).

I just hope and pray that this episode will not end tragically.

Now for further observations on the nesting habits of the Slaty-legged Crake:

1) The empty nest does not have eggshells left on it. The adults presumably ate them after the chicks have hatched.

2) The chicks leave the nest on the 21st day. They are precocial. They are black all over including legs and beak. The tip of the beak is lighter though.

And the nest, they say, is history

2011-09-19T15:27:00.002+08:00

"Today, we are witnessing a Philippine ornithology historical event!", I proudly declared to my wife, Cynthia, and to our birding buddy, Neon.

When we first heard the news a couple of weeks ago from John and Vivette, our friends from church, that an unusual bird has laid some eggs in their neighbor's garden, we were very intrigued. Our curiosity was even more stoked when Vivette sent photos of the bird and the eggs through her cellphone. First and foremost in our minds was, what bird was it? Inasmuch as the nest was found in a gated subdivision in Antipolo City, we had to arrange for the our friends to inform the gate guards to let us in. As soon as we arrived at their house, Vivette immediately took us to the residence of Leoncio and Linda. Linda was very excited as she ushered us to where the nest was, which surprisingly, was on one of her flower pots located about a meter from the ground and about two meters away from the street!

We peered into it and were dumbfounded to see a dark-colored bird with a bright rufous head, neck and breast. I quickly pulled out my Kennedy guide. Leafing through the pages, we narrowed down the identity of the mysterious bird to three possibilities: Red-legged Crake, Ruddy-breasted Crake and Slaty-legged Crake. Since the crake in question is sitting on the nest, we couldn't see the color of the legs. Red-legged Crake is very rare, so that couldn't be it. The book says the Ruddy-breasted is about 7 1/2 inches in length. The bird we're looking at is definitely bigger than that. We concluded that our nesting waterbird was a Slaty-legged Crake. Continuing my perusal of the description of this species, I was suddenly speechless as I repeatedly pointed to my wife the line that says "Nest and eggs not described from Philippines"!

That was the start of our regular pilgrimage to this reverent place as we monitored the progress of the nesting habits of Rallina eurizonoides, now that we have become aware of the importance of what was happening right before our very eyes. This was Philippine ornithological history in the making.

And today, 20 days after the hen started sitting on her four eggs, they hatched. Mom and chicks were all doing well. Dad was nearby, waiting for his brood to join him as they forage for food.

Based on our observations, here are some data that describes the nesting behavior of the Slaty-legged Crake:

1) The nest was about a meter above ground and consisted of dried grass, dried leaves and pine needles. It was quite shallow, only about two inches deep.

2) There were a total of four eggs which were plain white in color (no spots nor streaks). They were laid one egg per day. On the fourth day, after all the eggs had been laid, the crake started sitting on them.

3) Total incubation period was 20 days. There were times when the eggs were left unattended while the parent(s) hunted for food. We were not 100% sure if both parents took turns at sitting on the eggs.

4) The newly-hatched chicks were blackish in color. We expect them to be out of the nest by tomorrow (the 21st day).

Hidden Eden

2011-09-14T19:54:00.000+08:00

A mountainside covered with lush greenery just a few minutes from where we live. A mere dot in the map yet hosting quite a number of bird species. In the few mornings that we spent there we were serenaded by Black-naped Orioles and Olive-backed sunbirds. White-breasted Woodswallows put on such breathtaking aerial displays. Flocks of between ten and twenty Lowland White-eyes would pass through the treetops sometimes followed by a group of Golden-bellied Flyeaters. Long-tailed Shrikes seemed to be everywhere while Pied Fantails and Pied Trillers would occasionally drop by. Early migrants Brown Shrikes and Arctic Warblers were welcome sights. Glimpses of an Elegant Tit and a Philippine Magpie Robin gave us a thrill. Both Collared and White-throated Kingfishers played hide-and-seek with us.

Surprises were Barred Rails and White-breasted Waterhens walking along the road (isn't this supposed to be a mountain? so what are waterbirds doing here?). Even more surprising were the sightings of the uncommon immature Philippine Hawk Cuckoo and immature Mangrove Blue Flycatcher.

All in all we counted 23 species in three days of leisurely birding. To say that these birds inhabit the wooded areas of a private subdivision in Antipolo borders on incredibility. It was a pleasant surprise to discover this hidden eden not too far from home. Ah, but paradise would not be paradise if it does not harbor some deep secret. A secret that had been shared with us by the local residents. A secret that could further advance Philippine ornithology. A secret that for now shall remain hidden in eden.

MMM, Good!

2011-09-07T15:35:00.002+08:00

Back in the 1930s, Campbell's first came into the market with their Chicken Noodle Soup. Since then it had become the proverbial "comfort food" for people who were not feeling well or those who were suffering from dour moods. Their slogan was "Mmm mm good!"

Dour moods were what we were beginning to have on that hot and humid Tuesday morning. Despite the precise instructions from Maia, Jops and Adri, we still could not locate the area where they all saw the Ashy Ground Thrush. I have already mentioned in my earlier blog how I was a complete dud when it comes to finding directions. Left to myself, even with the aid of the most accurate map, I would still be lost. The purple ribbon that Jops tied to a tree as a "signpost" I'm sure would benefit any normal birder looking for that thrush. But not to me. No, sir. Not with where-the-heck-is-east? Bob trying to get a reckoning.

We were getting worried because Cynthia and I had an appointment in Greenhills at 11 am. Considering that we still needed to stop by our home to ditch our camera equipment and get rid of the stink emanating from our sweaty bodies, our time was definitely running out. Fast.

At times like these, we pray. We had barely said our "amens" when we were greeted by three birding friends and fellow Wild Bird Club of the Philippines (WBCP) co-members, Mel (Tan), Mai (Yangco) and Mark Jason (Villa). We were pouring out our grief and sorrow at not having seen any of the birds we were hoping to see, when Mai exclaimed, "There it is!" What followed was a frenzied chase of the Ashy Ground Thrush which was moving quickly within the dark understory. We all gave a collective gasp when an alley cat came running in and gave our prized bird a predatory chase. Thankfully it was able to fly away from the feline danger. After a frantic search we could not locate the Thrush anymore. Visions of a cat with a bird in its mouth emerging from the bushes haunted our imaginations for a while.

It was then that a family of Mangrove Blue Flycatchers flew noisily by. They even stopped briefly and allowed us some pretty good looks. We moved on when the flycatchers continued with their journey. Rounding the trail, Mai once again pointed to a brown thing probing the wet ground with its beak. We inched closer. When it moved, we moved. We stopped when it stopped. And took pictures. Sometimes the Thrush would pause just a couple of meters away, eyeing us as we were all eyeing it. As I paused between the Ashy Ground Thrush's poses, Mel pointed to a group of Grey-backed Tailorbirds who announced their presence by their seemingly incessant twittering. Even if I wasn't able to photograph these tiny birds, it was still a thrill to finally see them. What with my frustrations over them just last month.

In a span of maybe an hour, the trio of Ms were able to help us tick off three more lifers. Mel, Mai and Mark, you guys have been our Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup that morning. The comfort food for our gloomy demeanor. MMM, Good!

As a bonus, after we have bade our three friends goodbye, Cynthia and I saw, on our way out, a White-eared Brown Dove perched at eye level less than 8 meters away!

Serrano the Birder Rock

2011-09-04T20:20:00.000+08:00

We were in a state of despondency. We came to Los Banos to bird and the birds just were not there! Where were the Buttonquails? the Swallows that gathered mud for their nests? the Pipits and Skylarks that frolicked in the middle of the road? even those plentiful as dirt Eurasian Tree Sparrows were now as scarce as a Floyd Mayweather fan in the Philippines.

Oh sure it wasn't a complete bust at all. At least we enjoyed the tweeting of a Zitting Cisticola while sitting and sipping Pepsi Cola. Other than that it was just a case of being cooked by the sun or soaked by the rain and on several occasions being stewed by both sun and rain occurring simultaneously.

And there we were in a very despondent state. We were like Christian de Neuvillette birders longing for the attention of a lovely avian Roxanne. But misfortune, or perhaps even incompetence, hampered our wooing efforts. We needed the help of an eloquent, master charmer of birds.

It was then that a white van suddenly stopped in front of us. Out came Serrano the Birder Rock sans grand nez. We have met before and then as he is now our knight in shining armor. When it comes to birding Los Banos he rocks!

He led us unto green ricefields and instructed us to wait, for the objects of our desire will appear albeit fleetingly but long enough to enthrall our throbbing hearts. In just a few minutes we were grinning ear-to-ear as visions of Slaty-breasted Rail and a Snipe were firmly etched in our minds and compact flash cards.

Department of Agriculture UnderSecretary Fred Serrano, our heartfelt gratitude to you, sir!

The Rainbird Connection

2011-08-31T16:04:00.000+08:00

Why aren’t there so many songs about rainbirds? Maybe it’s because not too many people go birding in the rain. Surely these feathered creatures come out even when there’s a downpour, don’t they?

My wife and I decided to make that rainbird connection one gloomy Tuesday morning. And painfully discovered why there weren’t many stories about pluvial avian activities.

Yes, we saw some birds, most of them when we had just about given up after three hours of fruitless searching. In one particular ricefield were a lone Little Egret patiently hunting for food and a Cinnamon Bittern praying for a little sunshine. Wood Sandpipers were completely oblivious of the intermittent rain.

And yes, we saw (but unable to photograph) the Pheasant-tailed Jacana that fellow birder, Maia Tanedo, saw the week before.

In the end, the rainbird connection, though disappointing at times, can be a source of inspiration to dreamers, birders and me.

666

2011-08-26T13:41:00.002+08:00

An ominous number. A number that evokes evil and wickedness. The beast! Satan! The mere mention of it educes fear and darkness and apocalyptic thoughts.

Or, it could be the total of all the bird species I have seen so far. My lifelist.

But then could all the sinister connotations of that number be a factor resulting at me being stuck at that total for quite some time now? Was it responsible for me not seeing the Grey-backed Tailorbird despite hearing that bird in many occasions? My would be 667th species?

Perish the thought!

How can I even attribute such failure to a set of digits? I was not getting a new lifer because, to be really honest about it, I have not been going out much. The combination of crappy weather and good old sloth were the culprits for my sedentary behavior. Sure I missed the tailorbird after a couple of tries. But that wasn't unusual. I have had similar disappointments in the past. And none were caused by some creepy numbers.

666? When I see that number, this is what comes to mind:
(You have to click play to fully comprehend the hidden message.)

Disco baby!!!

Angry Bird-er

2011-08-22T16:06:00.005+08:00

We were huddled together squinting though the unceasing rain. Enduring the stifling humidity as we patiently waited for our target. Our muted conversations mingled with the monotonous patter of the raindrops falling on the canvas sheet above us. Occasionally I would peer through my weapon, gauging the distance, adjusting the aim, going through the motions should the object of our quest suddenly decide to appear. My sharp-eared partner, on the other hand, was picking up and analyzing every single chirp that broke through the sound of the drizzle. The morning darkly and lazily dragged on and we started to feel the creeping discouragement that we both did not want to articulate.

The downpour finally abated and slowly the trees came to life. We held our positions albeit with increased wariness. Now with senses peaked to any sound or movement, we continued our wait. When still nothing appeared we could not bear our dismay any longer. My frustration was unloaded on a poor commoner whom I shot without the slightest twinge of remorse.

We stood up and left the place of our vigil. Along the way, we saw a different target. Targets, for there were many of them. Tiny, constantly moving in every direction, and perfectly blending with their leafy backgrounds. A perfect way to practice my skills. And I nailed some of them. Hah! Bravado now replaced my early feelings of exasperation.

My partner and I agreed that there is one more way to offset our early setback. A few days ago, we both were shamed by the skulking habits of this one. Opportunities presented all became opportunities missed. This time we were determined not to let it happen again. It wasn't long before my mate saw it. I was about to give it my best shot when a pair of kindred spirits came. Looking for the same exhilarating experience that we are now about to have. We gladly pointed the tiny quarry to them almost invisible within the dark interior of the bushes. Together we blasted away. Triumph! Smiles were exchanged. The gloom lifted both from the skies and from our souls. In gratitude, my partner's counterpart taught her the distinct sound of our original target.

Now armed with such advantage we resumed our quest for the cause of our early morning heartbreak with raised expectations. Only to be disappointed time and again. The distinctive trill would come seemingly from everywhere we went but the source of that sound teasingly, mockingly, remained hidden from our views.

We will get you one of these days, Grey-backed Tailorbird!

Just you wait!

Blurred Watching

2011-08-19T16:20:00.005+08:00

It was one of those mornings where routine (routine [roo' ten] noun: a sequence of actions regularly followed) had been the norm. It went like this: One of us would yell, "There it is!" Then we would all point our cameras to the subject of the yell. Bursts of shots would be fired. All of us would groan in unison, "Aaargh!"

For almost two hours, Gabs, Edu and myself followed these pathetic attempts to photograph the Red-bellied Pitta at La Mesa Ecopark. (My wife, Cynthia, perhaps gifted with foreknowledge decided not to bring a camera). We only gave up when fellow bird photographer, Jun Osano, informed us that two, count 'em, two Grey-backed Tailorbirds were seen up close (!) just down the road. We hurried to that place only to meet the rest of the Wild Bird Club members just as they were leaving. The tailorbirds were (note the past tense) just there they told us.

We staked a vigil hoping our would-be lifers would return. Then it rained. Thankfully it was just a short downpour. Soon we were chasing after a strange trilling sound. When we finally located the source we saw a long-tailed bird and it was grey... no, wait.... oh, it's a female Philippine Magpie Robin. At this stage, any bird (well, maybe except those ho-hum Eurasian Tree Sparrows and Yellow-vented Bulbuls) would be fair game. So I took some pictures of the Magpie Robin and...."aaargh!"

We joined up with the Wild Bird Club members and noticed they were all looking up. A stance deemed normal for birders, by the way. Which probably explains why they didn't see us until we were standing right next to them. When asked for the reason for their craned necks, "No, not a crane", was the reply, " but a White-eared Brown Dove!" Sure enough there it was, twenty-thousand feet up on the branch of a tree perched behind several layers of leaves. Looking every bit as bored as a government employee. But like any self-respecting bird photographer, we took obligatory pictures of the dove. "Aaargh!"

Fie on those blurry bird pictures! We three are all "groan" up bird photographers anyway. Besides, we can always blame the rainy, gloomy weather.

Note: For the sake of my dignity I purposely did not post any photograph of any bird taken that day.

Unless you guys beg me to.

Nah. I still won't.

Rail Road

2011-08-14T19:11:00.001+08:00

Cynthia and I were sitting in our car peering through the gaps freed from raindrops resulting from the rhythmic left-right movement of the windshield wipers. Ahead a small dark figure contrasted from the virescent grass where it was searching for food, unmindful of the off and on downpour. "Barred Rail", I told my wife as I put down the binoculars.

We were at Hacienda Escudero. It was half past two in the afternoon. We were on our way home after enjoying the hospitality of our friend and fellow birder, Mela Balcazar, who took time off from her busy schedule to welcome us. Cynthia and I decided to visit Villa Escudero after having an almost heartbreaking stint at the University of the Philippines in Los Banos. Birds were uncharacteristically sparse particularly near the TREES hostel in Mt. Makiling. Thankfully a couple of cooperative Lesser Coucals and lots of Wood Sandpipers (early migrants?) at the buttonquail area saved the morning for us.

The primary birding reason for going to Villa Escudero is the resident Indigo-banded Kingfisher. With hopes of seeing that gorgeous bird we stationed ourselves by the river and waited. And waited. Soon the place began to swell with people lining up for the sumptuous buffet. Realizing that our sought-after kingfisher would not show up under such conditions, we joined the lunchtime crowd and enjoyed the luscious food, made even more pleasant by the excellent service of the staff.

After lunch the ominous claps of thunder further enforced the idea that we ought to give up on our kingfisher quest. At first I was perplexed. How can there be such repeated rolls of thunder on a warm, sunny day? But then gray clouds slowly dimmed the skies. That was when my wife and I decided to call it quits. Rain fell and we felt as gloomy as the weather, knowing birds would now be even harder to see. On the way out I thought of using the route via the Hacienda Escudero. Not only is it well paved, but we've seen some birds here during our previous visits.

It was on this road on that rainy afternoon that we encountered several species of the Rallidae family. I was driving very, very slow scanning the roadsides for birds. At that point any bird would have made us happy (well, maybe except the ubiquitous Eurasian Tree Sparrows). We were in this scanning mode when Cynthia suddenly yelled "Stop!" So I did. She pointed at a darkish bird perched atop a bush. At first I thought it was an oversized Common Moorhen. I looked at it through my binoculars. "W-w-wa-watercock!" I stuttered in excitement. I have seen this species only once before and it was at such a distance, the photograph that I got then left so much to the imagination. But this time, the bird just perched there unperturbed even when Cynthia and I got off the car, picked up our gear and shot away. Take note that it was drizzling all the time while we were taking advantage of this unusual opportunity.

Allow me to digress for a while. It's just that I think that "Watercock" is an unfortunate way of naming this bird. For one thing, the female is not referred to as "Waterhen" simply because there is already another species, also of the Rail family, having that name. Obviously the male of that species can never be referred to as Watercock as well. Quite confusing, really. What about the young ones of both species? Will they be called "Waterchicks"?

Back on the road again. Our slow driving and scanning the roadside shrubbery produced lots of Barred Rails as I mentioned earlier. There were also sightings of the tiny, and very quick, White-browed Crake. We didn't mind not photographing this little crake inasmuch as Cynthia already got a nice one at the Agripark earlier.

The biggest thrill, and frustration, however was by a species called Gallirallus striatus. Slaty-breasted Rail. I saw it furtively lurking by the grass-covered ditch. The chestnut crown and reddish beak was unmistakable. I just notched a new lifer! But it was still too far to be photographed. I inched our car nearer only to witness the rail slowly disappear from view as if swallowed by a verdant quicksand. We waited patiently for it to reappear but then the rain started to pour heavily again. I must say that this time we've been "de-railed" in our quest.

The rails we saw at the Hacienda Escudero road more than compensated for the disappointing scarcity of birds that we hoped to see that day.

Book Review: Birds of Hawaii, New Zealand, and the Central and West Pacific

2011-08-04T08:40:00.002+08:00

First of all, let me say that this book is not a field guide. Princeton University Press has launched a series of books that they aptly classified as "Illustrated Checklists". This book, The Birds of Hawaii, New Zealand, and Central and West Pacific, is actually the 11th publication under that category. Earlier books covered the Birds of Eastern Africa, Southern Africa, Western Africa, Central Africa, Southern South America and Antarctica, South America Non-Passerines: Rheas to Woodpeckers, Europe, Russia, China and Japan Passerines: Tyrant Flycatchers to Buntings, Europe, Russia, China and Japan Non-Passerines: Loons to Woodpeckers, West Indies, and finally, North America.

Inasmuch as the original intention of the author, Ber van Perlo, was to provide a handy reference in the field, the Birds of Hawaii, New Zealand, and the Central and West Pacific is quite handy, measuring only 5" X 7-1/2" making it highly portable. Author Van Perlo's illustrations, though not very detailed, are sufficient enough to be able to assist in field identification. Where there are differences in the plumages between male and female, and in some instances, juvenile birds, those are shown in the illustrations as well. The comments for each species are concise giving emphasis on the distinguishing marks of the the bird, its preferred habitat, its range, and a description of its call/song.

Taxonomy was based on Clements Checklist of the Birds of the World (2007). There is an Endnote though, updating some of the classifications (i.e. splitting of species/subspecies) based on more recent research and discoveries.

The distribution maps accompanying each species are sadly, rather small, especially when referring to the various island groups, making it quite difficult to pinpoint the exact ranges of the species covered.

Another nit that I have regarding this book was the author's providing information on the tectonics of the area. Personally, I did not think that it was necessary for an "illustrated checklist". A general description of the habitats would have been sufficient.

All in all, this is a very handy, useful book. If you plan on going on that Pacific tropical island birding holiday or on that exciting New Zealand adventure, the Birds of Hawaii, New Zealand, and the Central and West Pacific would be indispensable.

This book is available at Princeton University press or at Amazon

Don't Shoot Until You See the White-eyes

2011-07-04T10:50:00.000+08:00

My wife, Cynthia, is my birding partner. More often than not she would also carry a camera to take pictures of the birds we see. However, whenever we meet new people in our bird photography trips, she would almost always introduce herself as my "director". I am the cameraman and she would be the one to tell me what to shoot, when to shoot, where to shoot, what angle, how often......well, you get the picture (pun definitely intended).

It was pretty much the same scenario during our recent trip to Kota Kinabalu. On our very first birding day, we were up early. We were standing at the terrace behind our suite looking at the fruiting tree which was now slowly being illuminated by the rising sun. To our delight that particular tree soon became a center of avian activity. We observed some sort of a pattern wherein a flock of birds would come, feed on the fruits, then move on. A few minutes later another (or probably the same) group would repeat the whole routine. Without fail, the first birds to arrive, the leaders of the flock, so to speak, would be the Black-capped White-eyes - tiny olive-green birds with black-caps and white-eyes, of course.

With my camera gear now on place, I aimed my long lens at the general direction of the said fruiting tree. We waited for the next wave of birds to come.

"Don't shoot until you see the white-eyes", my director-wife instructed me. I'm not sure if she was even aware of what Colonel William Prescott told his soldiers in the battle of Bunker Hill ("Don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes") but what she just said sure made me laugh I almost missed the white-eyes.

A Kota Many Colors - the movie

2011-06-30T12:56:00.002+08:00

Two Birders to go - in Kota Kinabalu

2011-06-29T14:14:00.001+08:00

Here are some notes and comments regarding our trip to Kota Kinabalu:

Getting there:
We took a round trip flight via Cebu Pacific from NAIA 3 to Kota Kinabalu. They have one flight in the afternoon every M-W-F. Another option would be via Air Asia but you have to take off from the Clark Airport in Pampanga.

From the airport you can take a taxi going to Kinabalu Park for about 150 Ringgit (you have to negotiate). In our case we requested the Lodge to arrange for a pick-up. We paid 250 Ringgit which was OK since there were three of us to share and it was late in the evening.

We used a taxi on our return to the airport and we only paid 150 Ringgits.

Taxi from Kinabalu Park to Mesilau Nature Reserve was 85 Ringgits one way.

Accommodations:
Liwagu Suites (Kinabalu Park) - we were upgraded to this lodge from Hill Lodge - is very spacious. Bedroom is located at the Mezzanine. There is a veranda at the back which overlooks some trees (quite birdy early in the morning). There is also a mini-ref, a TV, and daily complimentary coffee and bottled water. Hot water is available. However, our suite (#4) caused a leak in their hot water tank when we took a hot shower at night which flooded the the hallway in front of the suites. When they turned it off, we lost our hot water. Thankfully, they transferred us to Suite#3 which never had a problem with the hot water. Our friend, Ralf Nabong, which was booked in Suite#2, also did not have a hot water problem.

Witti Lodge (Mesilau) - another upgrade for us from our original booking at Crocker Range Lodge. Our lodge comprised of three rooms: one at the lower level (where we stayed) and two more at the second level which were unoccupied. Again, there was a mini-ref and a TV. Complimentary coffee and bottled water were also included. Hot water is also available. But they don't have a phone in the lodge so you can't contact the reception area if you need something. They recommend using your mobile phone but if you're from another country that could be quite costly. They have a porch in front facing a patch of forest.

Hill Lodge (Kinabalu Park) - is very basic. Instead of one king bed, we got two singles. There were no mini-ref or TVs. Hot water is available, so is the complimentary coffee and bottled water. They also have a porch in front which faces the parking lot, but also gives a great view of Mt. Kinabalu.

Food:
Inside Kinabalu Park and Mesilau Nature Reserve the food is not too good and quite expensive. The breakfast buffet at both areas (same menu) is the same every single day. Except for the congee, which was lukewarm, everything else is cold, including fried rice, scrambled eggs, chicken sausage, chicken curry, etc. But since it is free, you can't really complain.

Liwagu Restaurant is an ala carte place. Since we only had sandwiches there - which wasn't that good either - I can't really comment on the entrees. They're expensive though.

Another option would be at the restaurant just outside Kinabalu Park. You go down a flight of stairs (quite long), cross the street and there you are. Food here is much better and a lot cheaper. Their lunch menu is very similar to chinese dishes and quite tasty. The average lunch is about 6 Ringgits and coke in a can is only 2 Ringgits. Compare that to a 22 Ringgit hamburger and 8 Ringgit coke in a can at the Liwagu Restaurant.

Getting around the parks:

At Kinabalu Park there is a van (and a very nice driver) that will transport guests from the reception area to any point within the park (the reception area, the lodges/hostels and restaurants are located at some distance from one another). Sadly that is not the case at Mesilau which was even compounded by the fact that the roads within are like roller coaster rides in their undulations.

Staff:
The courtesy and helpfulness of the staff, both at Kinabalu and Mesilau, more than made up for whatever the lodges lacked in amenities. Despite our problems (lack of hot water, flooding on our first day) the staff did everything they can to make our stay as comfortable as possible.

Our original booking was to spend our last two nights at Mesilau. But because of the strain of walking to and from our lodge to the restaurant/reception area, we decided to return to Kinabalu Park on our last night. Inasmuch as the lodges at both areas are owned by the Sutera Group, the staff at Mesilau coordinated with their counterparts at Kinabalu Park to have us stay at Hill Lodge with the same price as the one we stayed in at Mesilau (which was cheaper than those at Kinabalu).

On our last day, when we were about to board our taxi that will take us to the airport, the entire staff came to see us off. We never had that kind of experience before and we will certainly never forget that.

To the staff (and our new friends) of Sutera Lodges at Kinabalu and Mesilau, we say "Terima kasih".

The Borneo Objective

2011-06-27T18:04:00.004+08:00

This is the account of our visit to Kota Kinabalu in Sabah, North Borneo. Our objective was to see as many lifers as possible.

Day 1 - Borneo Identity

For some unknown reason our flight was delayed by almost an hour. I was worried. Inasmuch as we will be arriving Kota Kinabalu in Northern Borneo beyond our expected arrival of 5:40 pm, I am afraid that the van that would pick us up would no longer be there. Add to that the fact that I did not even get a confirmation from the hotel that they would indeed send somebody to fetch us from the airport. Riding in a cab at night in a foreign land isn't exactly something to look forward to.

It was nearing 7 pm when we finally emerged through the Malaysian immigration booth and picked up our baggage. There lined up ahead of us were people holding up placards with names written on them, typical of any arrival area of any airport. I smiled as a young man held one that says "Mr. Robert Kaufman" on it. This was not my first trip abroad, but this was the first time that my name was among those (what I believed to be) world class travelers venturing into a new country.

We begged the young man whose name is Douglas, to wait a little longer as we have to have our currencies exchanged into Malaysian Ringgits. Then off we went into the night. Douglas asked if we had dinner already and we (birding buddy Ralf Nabong, my wife, Cynthia, and myself), in one voice, said no. We asked if there were any fast food restaurants nearby and Douglas rattled off the usual McDonalds, Burger Kings, KFCs... We unanimously voted for KFC. We decided to bring the food to the hotel so as not to further delay our trip to our destination which is still a good two hours away. (The term they use here is "take away" instead of "take out" or "to go"). An hour passed. Cynthia and I can no longer contain our hunger so we nibbled away at our chicken dinner as our van climbed the steep road to Kinabalu Park.

It was almost ten pm when Douglas finally parked the van in front of the reception area of the Sutera Lodges. The night staff were very friendly despite our late check-in. Douglas was even kind enough to take us to our hotel (which was some 10 minutes by car away from the reception area). He got a well deserved generous tip from us. We took a warm shower and crashed into our soft bed at the Liwagu Suites (we were upgraded from our original booking at Hill Lodge - we at suite#4, Ralf at suite#2) close to midnight.

Days 2-5 Borneo Supremacy

5:30 am and we were awake. I set up my gear and placed it at our veranda which overlooks some trees and even a patch of the Botanical garden. As light slowly crept in and illuminated the trees before us, a cacophony of bird calls filled the air. Cynthia wished she had more hands so she could point out to me the plethora of birds that seemed to pop up from everywhere. I was busy taking shots at the colorful Temminck's Sunbirds and Black-capped White-eyes when a burst of trills and shrieks came rushing by. A flock of Chestnut-capped and Bornean Laughing Thrushes flew into the tree in front of Ralf's veranda, paused for a couple of seconds and then flew into the direction of the botanical garden. We were primed! We were excited far beyond any caffeine-induced rush!

Our next stop was at the Liwagu restaurant. No, not to eat, but to use their veranda which is wider, longer and even closer to the trees. Again, we were not disappointed. Here we got good looks at the yellow Bornean Whistler and even closer views of the Temminck's sunbirds and Black-capped White-eyes.

From the restaurant, we proceeded to the grounds around our hotel. An Olive-backed Sunbird sang from the treetop and a pair of Bornean Treepies played hide and seek among the dense foliage all the while calling to each other loudly. Next to the parking lot, a female Little Pied Flycatcher was patiently hunting for insects. It wasn't long before the male perched on a branch just a few feet away from me and Ralf. It even pounced on an insect a foot away from Ralf's feet! In the distance, a Little Cuckoodove cooed melancholically.

Nine am, the hotel van picked us up and took us to Balsam Buffet Restaurant, across (and several, no, a lot of, steps down) from the Reception area parking lot. The buffet breakfast, which was free, was bland. And cold. And forgettable. Unfortunately, we had to deal with this for rest of our stay here. Once again, the veranda was the perfect spot for birding. Here we saw the Indigo Flycatcher, the Chestnut-crested Yuhina, the White-throated Fantail and the extremely rare Eurasian Tree Sparrow (haha).

We returned to our suites after breakfast and agreed to meet again for lunch (which was to be at 3 pm - having just had our breakfast at midmorning). Perhaps it was the excitement of seeing so many, beautiful birds that I just couldn't take a break. Outside of our veranda I saw a nondescript looking brown bird. It just sat there eyeing me as if begging me to take its picture. Which I did, of course! That brown bird turned to be an Eyebrowed Jungle Flycatcher. Soon, the female and a young one also appeared.

Lunch was, once again, quite so-so. Even if it was at the more classy Liwagu restaurant. Seeing nothing else than the "usual" sunbirds and white-eyes, we decided to check out the grounds behind the hotel. There we met Peter and Catherine, a Belgian couple and both nature lovers. Peter was frantically trying to photograph a Temminck's Sunbird when Catherine said that there was a Flowerpecker (she didn't know what particularly) up in the pine tree next to us. We all peered and vaguely saw the tiny bird. Peter eventually finished his stalking and we were talking about birds in general when I saw the flowerpecker alight on a fruiting bush, practically at eye level. In unison we all leveled our cameras at the colorful bird and shot away. Satisfied that we had enough good photos, we urged Peter, who had a shorter lens, to came closer. The flowerpecker, which turned out to be a Black-sided, just sat there unperturbed by all the commotion caused by a group of enthusiastic photographers. Dusk fell. As we were about to go our separate ways, Peter showed us a picture he took earlier that day. A picture that made our jaws drop and gave us a resolution, as it were, to pursue that bird which he said was "just there". It was the picture of a Short-tailed Green Magpie.

We didn't see anything new the next morning. After lunch, we decided to go for the Green Magpie. It was just flying across the road going to Timpohon, the Belgian couple assured us. Around 4 pm, they said. Little did we know that that road was uphill. With our heavy gear and with vehicles zooming a few inches away from us made the trek something more than we bargained for. But the desire to see the magpie kept us going. Two kilometers later and four in the afternoon, our tongues were hanging out, we were gasping for breath and still no magpie. Sadly we turned back. Our day ended with sore muscles and aching hearts.

June 20 was Ralf's last day. He will be returning to Manila at five that afternoon. Cynthia and I on the other hand, will be transferring to Mesilau, an hour away further up the mountain. We all decided to bird the whole morning to the hilt. With a new strategy, at that. This time we will stake out the Bukit Tupai trail. That was one of the better decisions we have made. Compared to yesterdays disappointment, today we added more lifers to our list: Snowy-browed Flycatcher, the colorful Yellow-breasted Warbler and the very active Mountain Leaf Warbler. But the highlight came as we were about to leave. It was already 10:30 and Ralf wanted to be at this suite by 11 so he can start packing (he leaves at noon). As we were getting out of the trail, Cynthia went into a frenzy pointing to an opening in the bushes. Ralf who was ahead of me, suddenly plunked his tripod and started firing away. All I had was a glimpse but I knew that what caused all this excitement was a Crimson-headed Partridge, a skulker and a rarely seen bird here. I tried to follow it as it hid in the dense undergrowth but I was unsuccessful at getting a photo.

Happy for Ralf for getting a prize shot and getting more than just a consolation for missing the magpie yesterday, we bade our farewells.

Our trip to Mesilau took about an hour, only stopping briefly at the small town of Kundasang to buy some fruits (which will be our dinner that night). Once again the reception staff was very friendly. And once again, we were "upgraded" from the original booking at Crocker Range Lodge to the Witti Lodge. The accommodations are nice but the problem is that we have to walk a steep lane to get there. Since there is no local transportation, we were forced to walk graded roads in getting to and from our lodge to the restaurant or to the reception area. Something our aged bodies are not used to.

Again, across from our lodge is a patch of forest. We were even greeted by a pair of Flavescent Bulbuls just as we were settling in. Later that afternoon, Velvet-fronted Nuthatches were checking out the tall tree seen from our veranda. A family of Ashy Drongos, on the other hand, were in the tree behind our building. A small "wave" of birds came drifting by and we caught some quick views of an Ochraceous Bulbul and a Grey-throated Babbler.

The following morning the Ashy Drongos were back accompanied by a Crimson-winged Woodpecker. On our way to the restaurant for our breakfast, we saw a Bornean Whistling Thrush perched nonchalantly above the stream. Later on, in front of the Nature Center, we saw another one this time accompanied by an immature.

Since going around Mesilau became a physical torment for Cynthia and myself, we both agreed to spend our last day back at Kinabalu Park. After making arrangements with the reception staff, who were once again helpful and very understanding, we returned to our lodge to pack. It was then that I saw the Mountain Tailorbird.

Back at Kinabalu Park, we were booked at the Hill Lodge. Our room was very basic, but quite comfortable. Just outside a Mountain Leaf Warbler was seemingly curious about the new residents.

After resting for a couple of hours I decided to go for the Green Magpie again. Cynthia who was sore all over as a result of our strenuous hikes at Mesilau decided to sit (or rather, lie) this one out. Bringing with me her lighter camera gear, I hit the Silau-Silau trail a little before 4 pm. The woods were pretty quiet except for the gurgling stream nearby. A loud birdcall stopped me in my tracks. With my binoculars, I scanned each and every tree top and found not even a single bird. I kept going. Then some movement in the trees ahead! Big birds, but they painfully look like laughingthrushes. I stood still and faced toward the stream on my left. A bird landed on a tree branch above it. It was green! To my surprise, the green bird flew from branch to branch towards me. Until it was almost above me. At last, my Short-tailed Green Magpie had come. Everything was anticlimactic after that. I took the paved road on my return trip as if I was floating on air. Cynthia was waiting by the door as I approached our lodge. By the smile on my face, she knew without a doubt that my mission had been accomplished.

Day 6 - Borneo Ultimatum

I was out the door at the crack of dawn on our last day at Kinabalu Park. As I walked along the parking area in front of our lodge, I saw a flash of green pounce on something on the wall of the building. It then landed among the stalks of the orchid plants that line the front of the Hill Lodges. I could barely discern the figure that peeped out of the thickets. But then when I saw it through my lens, I couldn't believe that I'm looking at a Golden-naped Barbet. When I tried to get a little bit closer, it got spooked and flew away.

Cynthia soon joined me and we moved towards the end corner of the parking lot. It was there that we saw a family of Grey-chinned Minivets basking in the morning sun. A Hair-crested Drongo, perhaps jealous of the bright colors of the minivets came and chased them away. We were still drooling from this avian spectacle when a Bornean Treepie came barging in. Like a publicity-starved movie star it practically begged us to take its picture.

Somehow we did not mind anymore the bland taste of the buffet breakfast we had afterwards. The antics of the White-throated Fantail near the restaurant diverted our attention away from our meals. Soon it was time to go. Sitting at the back of the taxi that was taking us to the airport, we saw some lowland birds along the road: Asian Glossy Starlings, Peaceful Doves, Spotted Doves, Munias (Chestnut?). We resolved to return. This time to concentrate on the birds of the lower elevations.

A Kota of Many Colors

2011-06-26T13:14:00.001+08:00

Mt. Kinabalu is the tallest mountain in Southeast Asia. Located in Sabah, north Borneo, the peak reaches a height of 4,095 meters. Some 1500 meters in its slope lies Mt. Kinabalu Park. This was where my wife and I, together with our friend, Ralf Nabong, decided to go birding. This will be a first for us to visit this place. A place teeming with birds, most of which will be new to us. We were not disappointed.

Just within the vicinity of our hotel, a rainbow of avian delights displayed before our awe-struck eyes. Here then for your viewing pleasure are some examples:

Blue:

Indigo Flycatcher

Snowy-browed Flycatcher

Velvet-fronted Nuthatch

Green:

Golden-naped Barbet

Black-capped White-eye

Short-tailed Green Magpie

Yellow:

Bornean Whistler

Yellow-breasted Warbler

Mountain Leaf Warbler

Red:

Grey-chinned Minivet

Temminck's Sunbird

How about a combination of colors?

Mountain Tailorbird

Black-sided Flowerpecker

Don't forget the browns, the greys and the blacks:

Eyebrowed Jungle Flycatcher

Bornean Treepie

Grey-throated Babbler

Chestnut-crested Yuhina

Chestnut-capped Laughingthrush

Bornean Whistling Thrush

Hair-crested Drongo

It was wonderful seeing all these colorful birds. Just as Joseph's father gave him a coat of many colors, so did our Father gave us a Kota of many colors.