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The loud cawing attracted our attention. Following the source of those angry calls my wife and I saw a pair of Large-billed Crows circling a tall tree. Alternately they would dive at something while continuously berating at the object of their wrath. I slowly inched our vehicle closer to the tree of contention. Then I saw it (Cynthia, unfortunately was on the passenger side and therefore could not see what was going on) - the crows were mobbing a Philippine Hawk Eagle! Despite it's bigger size the Hawk-Eagle was unable to ward off its attackers and could only manage some squawks of protest.
We've been to this subdivision in Antipolo City many times to go birding, and this was the first sighting I had of Nisaetus philippensis here. For about fifteen minutes the black marauders harassed the large raptor until finally not being able to stand the hostility and to save face, the Hawk-eagle flew away. Interestingly, the pair of crows did not give chase. Perhaps they have a nest nearby that they were trying to protect from the predator, thus the enmity?
The war between two species now over, the other birds became more active in their foraging for food. A surprise was an Elegant Tit displaying its black and yellow color in the blue morning sky.
Then there was a very active Grey-streaked Flycatcher living up to its name. It would dart after some unfortunate insect and then return to its original perch - just a few meters from us.
After saying thanks to our hosts, the Webbs, we were returning to our vehicle when I saw something big and brown fly across from us. It was my wife's great spotting abilities that eventually located the whereabouts of the mystery bird. I grabbed her camera with the shorter gear so I could be more mobile and chased after it (it kept flying from tree to tree). It was only later that day when I was processing my photos that I was able to determine what the unknown species was - a Philippine Hawk-cuckoo! I thought it was serendipitous to see two uncommon birds whose names start with "Philippine Hawk" in just a few hours birding.
As we were driving out, we encountered a pair of lovey-doveys. Two usually skittish Spotted Doves were side-by-side on a branch cooing to one another, oblivious of their surroundings.
What started with the ugliness of war, our birding day ended with the beauty of peace…and love!
War-mongers and peace lovers. Hawks and doves. For us it was literally the latter.
My wife and I did a mid-morning birding foray at Subic. Since it was already around 10 am, our expectations were really not that high. The first birds we saw were the Whiskered Treeswifts lined up on an electric wire.
Nabasan trail was a complete disappointment. We saw a total of zero birds. There were some feathered flying objects that flew fast across the trail. So fast that identifying them was an exercise in sheer futility. We deemed it prudent to move on. It was on the way out that a serendipitous moment happened. I saw a huge dark bird fly off from the tree we were approaching.
"It's probably just a crow" I told Cynthia.
To our left we saw something on a tree. My wife thought it was just a branch. I thought it was a raptor. I thought right. Ah, the joys of photographing the usually skittish Philippine Hawk-Eagle that obligingly posed for us.
As we drove towards the exit, we encountered two different doves - ok, make that pigeons - that made the gloomy day a bit promising. The Philippine Green Pigeon and the Green Imperial Pigeon.
At the Botanical Garden road, another member of the family Columbidae gave us some photo ops. Yes, this time it was really a dove. A White-eared Brown Dove.
We took a lunch break by driving all the way to town to savor the culinary delights at Cocolime - our favorite restaurant in Subic.
Back at the Botanical Garden road, we had another hawk encounter. Having just missed a flock of Philippine Hornbills, we were moping inside our car when a raptor flew by and landed at the tree on our right side. This time it was quite high but still gave us good enough looks. An immature Philippine Hawk-Eagle patiently surveyed its surroundings for a potential meal. It was us who got tired of taking its picture and inasmuch as we still have to check-in at our hotel, we reluctantly left the young hawk.
A trip to Cubi point before dusk yielded no good photographs, despite the abundance of birds - Black-naped Orioles, Blue-naped Parrots and Coletos were high up in the pine trees doing their crepuscular dance routines.
Exhausted, we returned to our hotel and almost immediately fell asleep.
Dark ominous clouds covered the skies. Peter inched his car up the mountain road. The three of us were silent, our moods reflecting the gloomy morning. A few kilometers later, the lazy Phoebus finally awoke and peeped through the gray blanket and filled the heavens with a bright promising light.
For Peter, Jelaine and myself, this was our return to birding after a long hiatus. For Peter it was work that kept him from enjoying the hobby we all share a passion for. For Jelaine it was school. For me it was shameful lethargy brought about by the fickle weather where rainfall was as unpredictable as the flight of a swift.
But now we're back.
Throughout the day the sun played hide-and-seek among the empyrean cotton balls. In spite of the golden orbs playfulness we managed to see most of the birds we hoped to see. And then some.
It was during one of those moments when the sun was behind a cloud that Jelaine saw it. Peter stopped the car and took pot shots at it, while the non-photographer young lady with us described the bird while peering through her binoculars. I jumped out of the car, camera in hand, and looked at where they were pointing at. And saw movement. Two objects moving in the darkest part of the understory. For the life of me, I just couldn't even tell what I'm looking at. They were birds alright judging from their movements but that's just about all I could distinguish. For me they were just two pale patches dancing in the dark.
After the birds were gone, Peter showed me the pictures he got and once again I couldn't figure out anything. Now I will have to admit the fact that my almost 67 year old pair of eyes aren't what they used to be. I am most certain this condition was aggravated recently by my constant staring at my computer for most of my waking hours. I blame Facebook for that.
Back at the mystery birds, from the description given by my birding mates and based on the habitat we saw them, my guess was that these were a pair of Spotted Wood Kingfishers. Peter confirmed it later that night after he had processed his photos.
We didn't know it at that time but it wasn't long after this encounter that we would be getting a lifer. All three of us were standing at the side of the road hoping to see a bird. Any bird. It was then that a low flying raptor appeared above us. Slowly like a windblown kite it thermalled higher and higher until it became a mere dot in the now blue sky. That evening when I showed the picture to expert birder, Desmond Allen, he confirmed what I had hoped it was - a Philippine Hawk Eagle.
Seeing a Whiskered Treeswift at Mt. Palay-palay is almost guaranteed. Sure enough, there was a lone male performing its insect-hunting routine.
Another surprise came further up the road. What we thought were not so uncommon Barn Swallows turned out to be a mother Striated Swallow feeding its fledgling. A few Pacific Swallows watched the whole procedure with seemingly genuine interest not that far alongside.
When the big bullying White-breasted Wood Swallows came each and every swallow got off and hurriedly left the electric wire they were perched on.
Continuing on our journey, we all saw a dead bird on the road. As we got near I identified the poor thing as a Plain Bush-hen. It would have been a lifer for both Peter and Jelaine, but since it was dead, they will just count it as a "deather".
Another sure-to-be-seen bird in this neck of the woods is the Philippine Falconet. At first we were worried because we did not see this tiny raptor at the place where they are usually seen.
"Don't worry" I assured my friends, "we'll see it on our way back." "Remember the last time?" I reminded Peter of our previous trip here.
As we were going back down the winding road, I pointed a small bird to my friends. We finally saw the falconet at a time when dark clouds again turned the skies to a somber gray.
As the morning wore on and the weather turned less favorable we all agreed it was time to leave. But first, lunch beckons.
