The Nest Best Thing

The egg that the Philippine Frogmouth had been sitting on already hatched. 

Early Friday morning, Cynthia and I, together with friends Irene, Jasmin and Ivan, went to photograph the hatchling. As usual Mang Efren took us to the nesting site. Taking pictures of a frogmouth is probably the best thing that can happen to a bird photographer. It just sits there unmoving (except for an occasional sloooow head turn). The cute featherball remained just as still at its parent's feet. 

We had a field day photographing the cooperative bird from different angles - all from a very safe distance. I was even able to experiment with the various settings of my camera. My wife, confident that I'd be able to get some good photos of the frogmouth, decided to explore the roadside. When I joined her, after having had my fill of the nesting endemic, she showed me photographs of something that I found unusual. A pair of White-eared Brown Doves (normally birds of the treetops) were on the ground. Feeding perhaps?

A short while later, our friends having their photographic "quotas"already filled, decided to call it a day.   Before going our own separate ways, we rested from the long trek and away from the blistering sunlight. We all agreed on the ease of photographing the frogmouth. And we were at peace knowing that Mang Efren would not allow anyone to disturb this lovely bird from its nesting duties.

One Flew Over the Coucal's Nest

The bird flew across the road directly in front of us. I screeched to a sudden stop then slowly moved our car to the grassy shoulder at the opposite side of where the huge bird landed. I quietly lowered the window next to me and was thrilled to see the Philippine Coucal perched on a low branch carrying a withered cogon leaf. With the stealth of a predator, I pointed Cynthia's camera at it. (My huge lens was lying at the backseat and we were afraid that heaving it to my driver's position might spook the coucal.) 


The bird and I eyed each other for a few minutes - each one not daring to move first. Then it's parental instincts prevailed over caution and it launched itself into the air, landing about a yard and a half towards the tall grass. Once again it gave me a look and then like a rabbit in a magician's hat completely disappeared from view. My wife and I could tell that it was in the deep recesses of the clump of cogon for we could hear it's cooing sound.


We fought the urge to come close to see the nest itself, afraid that it might disrupt the coucal's nesting behavior. We drove off feeling lucky that we saw the coucal fly over its nest.