Francis of Assist See

We kept hearing the "cu-cu-cu" coming from behind the trees. We looked at where that sound was supposedly coming from but didn't see anything. After a while it came out and for a couple of minutes dried itself in the sun. The Philippine Coucal was our first bird that morning along the road going to Infanta. 

From there we stopped by the places where the hagimit trees were. The fruit of this tree is a favorite food of several species of birds. Unfortunately, summer had come and the fruits were all gone at the areas we visited. Except for one place. We saw friends Conrad and Ralf inside a compound as we were driving by. We quickly joined them and they introduced us to Francis, the overseer of that place. Close to their lawn was a huge hagimit tree with lots of fruits still. While we were catching up with our friends, Francis pointed at the tree, "Buzzing Flowerpeckers," he said. Indeed a pair of that species came and started feeding on the red berries. 

There was a lull after the flowerpeckers left. Then, "Philippine Pygmy Woodpecker!" Francis once again pointed to the fruiting tree.

This routine had become the norm of that morning. Francis, who was lounging on a hammock, would get up when he hears some bird call, look for the source of that call, and assist us to see the bird that would appear in the area. Two more species were shown to us: the Elegant Tit..

and the colorful Olive-backed Flowerpecker.

Around 9 am Cynthia and I decided to go visit the area where the Paddyfield Pipits are sure sightings. We promised to be back by 10:30 as that was the usual time that the Philippine Hanging Parrot was supposed to come to the fruiting tree.

Unfortunately, there were some "tourists" at the Pipit domain. We did see the bird but it was a bit skittish, unlike before, and I never got a good photo of it. On the other hand, farther down the road, a Striated Grassbird posed for us.

By 10:30 we were back at Francis' place. But the Parakeet never showed up. Only the Buzzing and Olive-backed Flowerpecker returned. Conrad told us that about 3 minutes after we left, a Stripe-headed Rhabdornis came, followed later by a Flaming Sunbird. Ah, if only we had stayed and benefited some more from Francis' assistance at seeing the birds in his neighborhood.

Great Unexpectations

It was a trip like most of our other trips. No high expectations. As a matter of fact there were really no expectations at all. 

We were in an exclusive subdivision in Antipolo City, where thankfully, much of the area is still covered with trees. We've birded this place quite a number of times before and we were certain that we would no longer encounter any surprises.

Which actually rang true at first as morning broke and the usual species greeted the rising sun. Families (!) of Philippine Pygmy Woodpeckers, Black-naped Orioles, White-breasted Wood-swallows and Olive-backed Sunbirds made their appearance. 

I was tracking a flock of Spotted Doves leisurely walking on the cemented road when I saw something quaint. At first I thought this was an overstaying Brown Shrike but when I looked through the binoculars I couldn't believe that I'm looking at a Pied Triller on the ground! Truly unexpected behavior indeed!

a triller of the ground

The second encounter was not really "unexpected" in the fullest sense of the word. We've been hearing this bird everytime we come here but it never showed up despite our patient waiting. Today, however was different. Thanks to my wife's keen eyes we got a….glimpse! Well, actually, a partial view of the teasing Philippine Coucal.

hide and "eek!"

The Scaly-breasted Munias were quite numerous that morning. While my wife and I were photographing some of them, I noticed something out of norm. A rosy red bird among the flock! At first I thought it was a Chestnut Munia glistening in the bright sun. When I looked closer I realized it was actually another Scaly-breasted but dyed red. To which I jokingly told Cynthia, "dyed and now alive". Seriously, this individual was very likely an escapee from a bird vendor. These uncaring people would catch these drab brown birds and dip them in dyes of various colors, mostly red, to make them more "appealing" to buyers. I wonder how many birds survived such inhuman acts. I'm glad this one did.

dyed and rose again

Finally, when we were driving home, we both saw a greenish bird fly across the road and alit on an electric wire. Now there are only a few green birds that can be seen in the city and very rarely even. This could't be a Philippine Hanging Parrot because it was much lighter in hue. Defintely not a White-eye since this was bigger than that. I screeched to a halt and parked by the roadside almost beneath the bird. Good thing we haven't packed Cynthia's gear yet. So I grabbed it a took some quick shots through the windshield (the only way to view the bird) thus resulting in a very fuzzy image. A few seconds later and it flew away. I looked at the photo and was surprised to discover that it was a Budgerigar! Definitely an escaped cage bird. And completely unexpected.

hey, bud, watcha doin up there?

The Rain Falls Mainly on the Plain

We could see the dark clouds ominously gathering in the skies as we climbed the road to Mt. Palay-palay in Cavite. I was driving very slowly, both Cynthia and I scanning the trees alongside hoping to see some birds. We saw a lone Whiskered Treeswift earlier but it was too backlit for a good photograph. However a female Tarictic gave us some good views. 

As we approached one of the many curves in the road, I saw a black bird foraging on the ground. Barred Rail I thought to myself. I eased our car to a stop and opened our windows. A blast of hot and humid air grabbed our faces. My wife's eyeglasses started to fog up. I brought the binoculars to my eyes and they almost popped out of the lenses. I urged Cynthia to start photographing this dark-colored bird while I with the least movement possible retrieved my gear from the trunk. Cynthia was a bit surprised at my actions thinking that this bird was just one those we have seen many times before. "Darling, this is a lifer for us!" I told her. "Plain Bush-hen!"

But the story didn't end there. Although it was one of those serendipitous encounters with a lifer, the strange events surrounding such encounter made us more than just a bit mystified. It's just that every time we saw this particular Bush-hen - and we spotted it at basically the same spot three times that morning - rain inevitably followed.


A few minutes after we saw our lifer, rain fell. Not just your ordinary pluvial downpour, this was hard, driving, torrential rain. It was as if we were driving under an endless waterfall. It was so strong that we had to pull over since visibility was almost zero despite the frantic to and from motion of our windshield wipers. About an hour later the rain stopped and the sun shone. Bright, warm sunshine greeted us as we arrived at the entrance of the Caylabne Resort. As I was stretching my body after driving for almost three hours, Cynthia yelled, "White! White! and pointed at something behind my back. I turned around and caught a glimpse of white on a tree at what seemed to be a kilometer away. I moved a few steps forward plunked my gear and peeped through my camera lens. A white-morphed Philippine Coucal! I took a couple of quick shots hoping to get at least a documentary shot before I attempt to get closer. Of course, it flew off the moment I took one single step forward.

We got back into the car and turned around, hoping to see more birds while it was still bright and sunny. Once again we saw the Plain Bush-hen not too far from where we first saw it. Just like before, it was completely oblivious of our presence. Then it rained. Another deluge. Another hour of sitting inside the car. When the skies cleared we returned to the Caylabne gate holding in our hearts a fervent hope that we will see the White Coucal again. Its non-appearance dashed our hopes into smithereens. While I was desperately seeking the enigmatic coucal, Cynthia was busy photographing something. "Elegant Tit!" she answered my unspoken question. I hurried and got my camera gear. As soon as I got to where she was, the tiny bird flew away.

Back on the road again. As soon as we passed by the Bush-hen territory it was deja vu as torrential rain fell from the skies. Forty-five minutes later the rain became a slight drizzle. Surprisingly that was when we saw the Philippine Falconets trying to dry themselves from the slowly emerging sun. 

Further down the road we saw one flew over a coucal's nest (Please see my previous blog).


The trip home was punctuated by guess what? - interspersion of rain and sunshine. Even without a Plain Bush-hen in plain sight.

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.