Who needs Scales, We're Schrenck to Fit

The Blog I Should Have Not Written

My excitement at seeing a rarity so early in the year prompted me to write about our experience as soon as possible. When news came later that the bittern we saw was not the kind it was purported to be, it was too late. The blog had been published. Birding definitely has its ups and downs and this was one of those that didn't turn out as expected. But that's ok. Life goes on. 

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In my previous blog (the one I didn't want to write) I lamented the fact that my wife and I missed the Scaly Thrush at La Mesa Ecopark three times! With the encouragement of our friends, Cynthia and I decided to give it one more try. At first my wife refused to do it, reasoning that she probably would not be able to handle another heartbreak. I actually had the same thoughts. When our friend Irene texted Cynthia telling her that she and Rob would be going to the Ecopark on Friday morning and help us find the now seemingly imaginary bird, how could we refuse.

It was drizzling as we left our house. A dawdling breakfast at Jollibee's and the drizzle hasn't stopped yet. At the Ecopark we walked towards the mini forest under an umbrella. Close to an hour of scouring the leaf litter drenched in rain water not a single creature was seen stirring and our hearts were silently breaking. Then Cynthia's mobile phone tweedled, it was a text message from Irene. Rare bittern at spillway it said. My wife relayed the message to me. Rare bittern? what could be rarer than a Schrencks, I thought to myself.

"Ask her what kind" I told my wife.

A few minutes later, another message.

"Schrencks" 

The news confirmed my suspicion. My wife and I looked at each other. The way our luck had been going lately we feared that the rare bittern will be gone by the time we had negotiated the long uphill walk to the spillway. 

We continued peering into the dripping understory. Still not a creature was stirring, not even those pesky mosquitoes that had been the bane of birders in this dark, melancholic place.

After about thirty minutes, another text: Come now bittern still here.

Heaving a mournful sigh, we began the trek to where our friends were wallowing in the thrill of getting another lifer. Out of breath and out of hope we approached the deck overlooking the spillway. Rob told me to look through his spotting scope. I looked and saw nothing but a rock.

"It's there!" both Irene and Rob insisted. Cynthia and I went to the lower deck and scanned the shrubbery. There were some Barred Rails in the distance and as I used them to console myself, Rob suddenly yelled, "Flying! Flying!" I looked and saw something browny-orangey dive into a clump of tall grass. 

"I saw it!" I replied to one in particular still unconvinced that it was indeed the Schrenck's Bittern that I just saw. Time slowly passed and the skies blew away the rain and welcomed a bright morning sun. When I saw a Little Egret walk towards the place where the flying bittern landed, I told my wife who was standing next to me, "Look, God sent that Little Egret to flush the bittern so we can see it." A few minutes later the rare bird emerged from its hiding and gave all four of us such good looks that there was no denying that this was indeed a Schrenck's Bittern!

Once that fact had been established, text messages were immediately sent to our friends. Soon we were joined by Bram and then Jun and Maia. To their delight the bittern remained visible and so insouciant to its now celebrity status.

Thanks to a bird whose scientific name means harmonious bittern, the heartaches dealt by a scaly creature had been turned to a tuneful melody of joy.

Simply IRRIsistible

As irresistible as a cold drink on a hot muggy day - that's how the fields at IRRI (International Rice Research Institute) are to birders at the onset of autumn migration. 

Inasmuch as IRRI is a research facility, access to its premises is strictly regulated. It was through the courtesy of Prof. Tirso Paris whose wife Thelma, works there that all four carloads of bird watchers/photographers were able to get in at that place early Saturday morning.

Thus began several hours of birding that padded our car-mates Peter and Irene's lifelists. 

Indeed the paddyfields were teeming with migrants galore! I have never seen so many Wood Sandpipers before. 

I was surprised and was even able to get a photograph of a lone Intermediate Egret.

And who could resist that cute, fluffy Cisticola that went zitting as it was sitting on top of a pole.

While the Cisticolas we were trying to follow, we noticed another bird on a stick - it was a lovely Barn Swallow.

How could you not write an ode to that Oriental Skylark insouciantly basking on the road?

After passing a corner and we made a turn, out in the open was an immature Cinnamon Bittern.

The stars of IRRI were of course the Greater Painted Snipes clothed in those quaint stripes, sometimes difficult to see with the naked eye for they so much resemble an icky, nasty cow pie.

Another surprise was a Swinhoe's Snipe, a skulking bird that always poses a challenge as to what type. Pintail, Common and Swinhoe's all look so much the same that makes identifying them quite a game. The reason I was certain of this snipe's name was because of Prof. Tirso's photo that showed in such great detail the tiny white feathers at the edge of the tail.

Even good times must come to an end. We bade goodbye to our friends - the birders (Doc Cha, Ruth and Chee-ann) were to meet other colleagues at the Botanic Garden.

The bird photographers (Steve and Paolo) decided to go home so they could see the results of their endeavors.

For us (me, my wife, Peter and Irene) and our host, Tirso, more irresistible goodies awaited ....and they were not just birds....

Hot 'n' cool

It was 98 degrees in the shade. With a high humidity index to match. In this sauna-like weather, sane, reasonable people stay in air-conditioned rooms and imbibe cool drinks. But not intrepid birders! No, we go out under the blistering sun to look for birds. No, not under the shade of forest trees but out in the open marshlands of Candaba. 


And for what? 


Nothing special, really. We just wanted to go there, is all.


Well, we did see a bunch of Oriental Pratincoles zooming above a pond choked with giant waterlilies. Unfortunately, BIF (birds-in-flight) photography is not my forte, what with my unwieldy zoom lens on a tripod. My wife, on the other hand, was more open to challenges. She persevered, enduring the radiant heat, and kept shooting until she felt that she was finally able to document the aerial aerobics of the fast flying pratincoles.

And then there were those "No! No! Oh no!" moments. A marsh bird would cross the street ahead of us and pause in the middle of the road. We would slowly inch our car closer up to the bird's tolerable distance. We would then turn the car engine off, oh so quietly open the door, bring our cameras to our eyes, focus on the subject and just when we were ready to click on the shutter, a tricycle would come from the opposite direction causing our quarry to dash into the nearest bush. Yes, it happened several times - to aWhite-browed Crake, a couple of White-breasted Waterhens and some Barred Rails. With the amount of shots that we kept losing to the motorized monster, we thought the odds would eventually turn in our favor. Thankfully it did and we finally got a White-breasted Waterhen as it stopped to give us one last look before it disappeared at the other side of the road.

In every outing there usually is a "thriller" moment. This time it seemed a tad more appropriate when I got some nice open shots of a Pied Triller - a bird we didn't expect to see in this kind of environment. 

For Cynthia it was a Yellow Bittern taking one big step over a lotus leaf.

At about 11 am, the heat had become unbearable. Somehow the cold bottle of water didn't have much effect on us. Perhaps it's because it set us back 150 pesos (about $3.50) for a bottle that isn't even half a liter in size. Actually, the 150 pesos was for an "entrance fee" and the bottle of water came "free" with it. This was the first time we've been asked to pay the "entrance fee" (and we've been here many times in the past). But I don't want to dwell on that.


As we prepared to leave for home, we were happy that we still got some cool bird shots to alleviate the effects of the hottest day of the year.

The Colors of Candaba

In the beginning it was black.


We learned from the members of the Wild Bird Club of the Philippines (WBCP) who were here last week about them. There's plenty of them in Candaba these days, we gathered from their reports. When we saw one fly over, our hopes were buoyed. It wasn't long after we have assembled our gears, that Olan,  a fellow birdnut (a term we use to describe members of the Philippine Bird Photography group) started yelling and was enthusiastically pointing at a thick tangle of bushes. We (Alain, Bong, Mark, Rey, my wife and myself) all rushed to where Olan was standing and tried very hard to locate the object of his excitement. I can already hear the clicking shutters of my friends cameras and I was still squinting, looking at every leaf, every branch, every bough and getting frustrated at not finding the reason for all this commotion. Until finally with the help of Cynthia, I saw it! A Black Bittern! A lifer for all of us! It was huge, bigger than any Philippine bittern I have seen and it was indeed black, a contrast to the green everything around it.

Hello, yellow!


Tall and thick vegetation now cover most of what used to be a huge pond where we saw the Bean Goose last April. Much to the delight of the local waders. Black-crowned Night Herons established a nesting colony and some of them were enjoying an early morning flight. Then of course, there were the bitterns. Normally skulkers and seldom seen in broad daylight, we were pleasantly surprised to find them out in the open. Unlike the uncommon Black Bittern, Yellow bitterns are quite plentiful, some of them even inhabiting semi-urban areas. One of these secretive birds was so intrigued by my wife's imitation of its call that it stretched out its neck in rapt curiosity. That was the first time I've seen a Yellow Bittern do that.

A flash of white.


Rey was driving my car while Cynthia and I were riding "shotgun" as it were when we saw a flash of white fly up to a "camachile" tree. Rey slowed down and quietly stopped as I trained my binoculars to the dark area beneath the canopy of the said tree. Turtle Doves were staring down at me and I'm thinking, no, these can't be the birds that we just saw. Some movement past the doves caught my attention, brownish birds with white breasts and bellies. I described them to Rey and his eyes widened. White-shouldered Starlings! he said almost in disbelief. As soon as we aimed our cameras at these avian wonders they flew. We could not find them again.


A touch of purple.


There was a pond where the heads of heron stuck out from the surrounding brownish stalks of reed. Once in a while one these huge birds would take to the air, its enormous wings flapping slowly. Purple Herons convey a certain degree of royalty not only with their color, but also when they stare with seeming arrogance. They are magnificently tall creatures with their back covered in a purplish cloak. Somehow I picture them in my mind holding a scepter ruling over the ponds of Candaba.

There weren't that many birds in Candaba that morning, in terms of variety. As for us, we were quite happy. It was bittern than nothing.


For other (even more colorful?) blogs and photographs, please visit: 

Bittern Medicine

I must bird! I need to go birding! Otherwise I'll go crazy!

It has been almost a month that my left knee has been bound in a brace. This was to help heal the tear in my meniscus. That brace came off last week and slowly I flexed my left knee to see if the pain was gone. It was. But paranoia had crept in. For good reason if I may say so. For a while early in June I thought my knee was ok since I no longer grimace whenever I walk. So I went birding and walked a lot all the while carrying my hefty gear. Which resulted in the said tear in my knee cartilege.

When the brace came off last week I walked as if my knee was still bound by metal rods. One day later, Gathering all my bravado, I tried walking. No pain! Then I tried driving our car. No Pain! A Saturday filled with social appointments and a Sunday devoted to church confirmed that I am now able to walk, albeit slowly, and drive thru the chaos known as Manila traffic.

Monday and my wife knew I have to go birding. We chose a nature park not that far from where we live. It was already late when we got there (we woke up a little bit later than usual) so we were not keeping our hopes that high. At the lake we got lucky as a White-breasted Waterhen showed up briefly. Minutes passed as we stood sweltering in the mid-morning sun. All we were seeing were the ubiquituous Eurasian Tree Sparrows. Then something brownish flew into the reed-like plants across from where we were standing. Yellow Bittern! It is a common bird but difficult to observe because of its skulking habit, as most bitterns are wont to do.
And then it skulked.

By now my shirt has already been drenched by the copious sweat that seemed to flow from every pore of my skin. Cynthia asked if my birding itch had been satisfied. I confirmed that it was. That bittern was just the medicine I needed I told her.


For other (less kneedful?) birding blogs and photos, please visit:

Bittern Sweet (aka Fowl Weather Friends)

Saturday was the Los Angeles Audubon Society's field trip to the Upper Newport Bay in Orange County. The reason for this is that the tide will be quite high that day which hopefully would drive the marsh birds closer to shore and ergo better viewings.

When my wife and I looked at the weather section of the Los Angeles Times that morning, we saw this:

However, looking out our window, the skies didn't seem that dark. And we are birders, of course, where neither rain nor sleet can stop us from pursuing our hobby. (These are pep talk words, by the way, spoken to ourselves to dispel any lingering discouragement we might feel).

We met the group at the boardwalk. Nick and Mary Freeman, the group leaders, were already busy pointing out the Clapper Rails in the distance. They were the ones who showed us where to find the Varied Thrush at Galileo Hills a month ago. Then there was Barbara Johnson who showed us our first Black Oystercatchers and Surfbirds at Playa del Rey a few years back. And our birding buddy, Tom Starcic, was there, too. In the pay-it-forward scheme among birders, we were the ones to show Tom his first Spotted Owl at Placerita Canyon early this year.

We were all lined up along the boardwalk waiting for the tide to reach its peak when somebody yelled "Bittern, flying in!". Binoculars went up in unison while Cynthia and I raised our cameras and started firing away. After several passes in front of us, the Bittern settled in a dense brush.

We continued to pass the time watching a Northern Harrier patrol the back bay. Suddenly Nick Freeman came rushing and announced that another American Bittern had landed not too far from the boardwalk. Like the crowd when the stores opened on a Black Friday morning, we all rushed to the point that Nick said the Bittern was. This was the first time that Cynthia and I have seen an American Bittern in full view. Who knew they have yellow legs!

It started to drizzle a bit. Mary suggested that we all go to the back bay drive and see if we can get closer looks at the birds. Surprisingly, the sun shone just as we entered the one way street along the bay. Most of the birds - Marbled Godwits, Willets and Black Skimmers were sleeping and the ducks were still far off into the waters for any good photography. The only bird that piqued our interest was a young Common Moorhen foraging by the "falls".

We said goodbye to our friends and made a stop at Bolsa Chica. However, the cold wind blowing incessantly kept most of the birds huddled far off shore, not even daring to fly in this harsh condition. Even the most intrepid birders know when it is time to quit. It was time to quit.