Spotlessness

We waited for almost three hours. It never showed up. 

The slightly drizzly morning was brightened by the cooperative pair of Indigo-banded Kingfishers. For my wife, Cynthia, and myself, together with our friend, Bong, this was a repeat of our experience from last week. This time we were joined by new friend, Crisnick. For Crisnick, this was the first time that he saw (and photographed) the new stars of La Mesa Ecopark.

The other star, of course, was another kingfisher. The Spotted Wood. Elated by our early morning success, we all went to the trail where we hoped for another easy encounter with the Indigo's bigger cousin. Three hours and nada. Were it not for the thrill of getting a picture of the constantly moving juvenile Red-bellied Pitta, it would have been a bitter disappointment for us.

As noon approached and the steady shower not showing any sign of abating, Bong, my wife, and I accepted our being Spot less and agreed to call it a day. Crisnick, on the other hand, since he had not yet seen the Spotted Wood Kingfisher, resolved to stay and wait.

That night I received the good news from our new friend that at 12 o'clock, the bird with a long bill finally showed up. And even hanged around for 30 minutes! Perhaps it favored the patient ones or those who have not yet been given the quaint privilege of beholding his beauty. All I can say is that we were sincerely happy for our friend.

Juvenile Detection

"Peter wants to see the pitta," I told my wife. "The Red-bellied one," I further explained.

"Where and when?" she asked.

"Ecopark. Saturday."

"OK!"

Peter was downcast when we met him Saturday at the mini-forest at the Ecopark. "No birds!" he lamented.

We stationed ourselves at the place where local birder, Anthony Balbin, said was the playground of the pittas. Minutes dragged by so slowly like a plodding snail. Cynthia not wanting to be the breakfast of mosquitoes wandered around. Her perambulations were rewarded by the appearance of a Mangrove Blue Flycatcher. 

Then there was a bird she couldn't figure out. When she returned to our stake-out place she showed me a really bad photo of the unknown bird. Striped head, dull brown. I dismissed it as just one of those Yellow-vented Bulbuls. 

Humidity intensified to an unbelievable degree. Not wanting to drown in my own sweat. I asked Peter to forget about waiting for the pitta for now and check-out the surrounding areas. As we rounded the trail we received a relentless scolding from a Grey-backed Tailorbird - berating us perhaps for not being patient enough.

Silence once again. Even the resident Ashy Thrushes seem to have taken a vacation that muggy Saturday morning. I told Peter that I'll do some trail-trekking. He opted to stay put. My wife, once again, was doing her own exploration.

Not finding anything of the avian variety, I went back to where Peter was. As soon as he saw me, he place his finger over his lips then pointed towards a bunch of leaves. I looked and voila! a nest! 

"Ashy Thrush," he whispered. I looked again and saw the nest. I looked at Peter with raised eyebrows. "Just wait," he advised me and then showed me the image he took while I was out meandering. Indeed there was an Ashy Thrush on the nest. Soon a flutter and one adult came and sat on another future addition to the Geokichla cinerea population of Ecopark. Joining us was Reuel Aguila who also documented another Ashy Thrush nest about two months ago.

Note: To protect the welfare of the nesting Ashy Thrush, no photos of the nest will be shown.

Having had my fill of nest photos, I looked for my wife. I met her near the purportedly pitta place. She was peering into the undergrowth and beckoning me with her hand. Apparently she detected something exciting. I looked at where she was looking and I gasped audibly. A juvenile Red-bellied Pitta was feeding nonchalantly about 3 meters away. My brain assessed the situation and immediately came to the conclusion that I need a more portable gear. I practically wrested Cynthia's camera with the 300mm lens from her. Reuel also came and joined me as I crouched like a tiger at the semi hidden dragon of a bird. Meanwhile, my wife went to inform Peter of her discovery. For about 20 minutes or so all of us feasted on freshly delivered pitta.

That, of course, was the highlight of our birding day. Maybe not the adult Pitta that Peter was hoping for but detecting a juvenile and getting some pictures of it was definitely worth the sweating and the waiting.

Brada Pitta

Nothing creates a sense of brotherhood among bird photographers than taking pictures of a local avian celebrity. I have been through this experience a couple of times before in California. When news of an Arctic Warbler inhabiting the trees in Galileo Hills became known to one and sundry, all self-respecting bird photographers in Southern California came to take a shot at this rarity. In between appearances of the sought after warbler, we bird photographers shared a kindred spirit while bonding and even foregoing lunch. That was repeated when a young Roseate Spoonbill stayed in Irvine for some R & R.

Although I am a bona fide member of the Philippine Bird Photographers group, I am still a "newcomer" having just recently moved back here. As such I have not yet fully bonded with the locals even when I have been with some of them during various sorties. But when news came about that a Red-bellied Pitta was seen in nearby University of the Philippines' Diliman campus, I met fellow bird photographers Bong, Rey and DocChito. It was here in a small spot behind the Biology building that I became a part of the brotherhood that shared whispered stories all the while sweating profusely as we patiently waited for our shy quarry to appear. And when the Pitta slowly emerged from the shadows, only the sound of the clicking camera shutters shattered the silence.

I wanted to stay longer with my friends but my wife and I had to attend a lunch party hosted by a high school classmate and also I wanted to add a second lifer of the day by photographing the Philippine Nightjar snoozing peacefully just a block away from the Pitta place.



As I reminisced the events of that sultry Saturday morning, I smiled. Not only because I got my two lifers but more importantly, I now have a feeling of belonging. I would like to believe that I am now one of the certified local "birdnuts".

P.S. I have been "absent" for a couple of weeks because we visited Singapore. For our stories on birding that City-Nation please visit my earlier blogs: See Mynas and Feeling Buloh. Thanks!


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