TREES Company

From a distance....we watched....emitting sighs of frustration. 


Frustration because the birds were quite far even for our long lenses. Frustration because the birds we hoped to see were a no-show. Yet despite these, the sighs of frustration were only of minor consequence compared to the delight of the company we shared. The passage of time becomes a blur when you are with friends who share the same passion with you.


We were at the "deck" next to the TREES (Tropical REsources and Ecosystems Sustainability) Hostel in the campus of the University of the Philippines in Los Banos (UPLB). 


It all started when our dear friend Maia reported in her blog that the ficus trees near the hostel were now fruiting (and therefore attracting a lot of birds). That certainly perked our interest. It turned out that we were not the only ones. Monday afternoon we got a text message from fellow bird photographer and good friend, Tina Mallari. She wanted to know if we would like to join her at UPLB early Tuesday morning. We of course said yes. I then contacted Prof. Tirso Paris who resides close to the UPLB. He promised to meet us at the TREES hostel grounds.


For about three hours all four of us: Tina, Prof. Tirso, Cynthia and myself watched the fruiting trees but were frustrated by the non-appearance of the hoped for Luzon Hornbills. Thankfully the tall dead tree next to the ficus was where the action was. It was like a relay station where one species would perch, spend a few minutes, then fly off - only to be replaced by another species - sometimes consisting of more than one individual. Now let me explain here that the said dead tree was very tall, therefore the birds that perched on it were practically dots on our camera viewfinders - despite the 500mm lenses that Tina and I were using.


The first group were the noisy balicassiaos, calling raucously, their glossy dark feathers glowing in the early morning sun.

As the Balicassiaos left, the endemic Guaiaberos made their appearance.

The tiny green birds were replaced by the Coppersmith Barbets giving out their monotonous hammering call. The Barbets were the frequent occupiers of this particular dead tree. They would return to the tree every now and then and oftentimes bullying whoever was at that place at that particular time.

The Stripe-headed Rhabdornis came next - only when the Barbets were out of sight.

Finally, a lifer! I didn't realize it until we were already home and I was checking our photographs. When I first saw it, I thought it was the Grey-streaked Flycatcher. But Grey-streaked Flycatchers are migrants - was the thought that kept bothering me. So when I looked at the Kennedy Guide, I realized that what I saw was actually a Striped Flowerpecker. There were indeed a huge flock of flowerpeckers feasting on the fruits of the ficus tree. I saw Orange-bellied and Red-keeled among them. It is very likely then that one of those could be a Striped Flowerpecker. My suspicion was further confirmed by our friend, Adri Constantino, when I showed him the photo I took.

It was half-past ten and still no signs of the Luzon Hornbills. Having had our fill of the company of birds in the TREES parking area, Prof. Tirso suggested we go to IRRI next and see what it has in store for us birdwise.

The heat is on

When our friend, Prof. Tirso Paris, posted his bird photographs taken in Los Banos in the internet, we drooled. I was reminded of the comment the elderly lady made with regards to Meg Ryan's character at the deli scene in the movie When Harry Met Sally: "I'll have what she's having!"


So when another friend and budding birder, Peter Ting, asked where we plan to go birding on Saturday, I said "Los Banos" unhesitatingly. "I'll pick you up at 5 am", he said. I immediately communicated with Prof. Tirso and asked if he could show us where he got those fabulous photographs. He said yes. And even volunteered to take us inside the hallowed grounds of IRRI (International Rice Research Institute). Inasmuch as that is a research facility where they conduct experiments on the various strains of rice, access is understandably restricted. My wife and I already had quite an embarrassing experience at that place and so we were glad that our professor friend would be able to take us there. (Even then we always had an "escort" all the while we were inside their premises).


At 7:30 am, Tirso was escorting us towards the rice fields, he in his car and the three of us (me, Cynthia, and Peter) in Peter's SUV.  Prof. Tirso drove ahead and scouted the area, then he texted me: pratincoles and skylarks to my left. We followed and sure enough, those birds were there. I have never seen this many Oriental Pratincoles before, flying, simply standing or crouching on the dried rice fields.

That had been our course of action for most of the morning. Prof. Tirso driving ahead then texting me the kinds of birds that he just found. Soon we were also photographing the Oriental Skylarks and the Paddyfield Pipits. A Blue-tailed Bee-eater even perched on a nearby fence post for some good photo-ops.

Oriental Skylark

Paddyfield Pipit

Blue-tailed Bee-eater

This early in the morning, the heat has become almost unbearable. Peter turned on his car airconditioner even with the windows open (we were taking photos from the car) just so we can have some relief from the suffocating heat. 


Not surprisingly, most of the pictures we took of the birds show their beaks wide open in their effort to make the dry, oven-like temperatures more tolerable. 


We heard the low hoots of the Greater Painted Snipes but the blast from the morning sun kept them hidden under the rice stalks. The late-staying waders however seemed to be unmindful of the unusual warmth as they foraged in the ponds. Some were already in breeding plumage. Particularly lovely were the Little Ringed Plovers with their bright yellow eye-rings.

At past ten in the morning we all left IRRI and went to the APEC area but saw nothing! Where there used to be skylarks and pipits, an occasional buttonquail or even a rail crossing now was just an empty, simmering concrete road.


Even a foray into the forest near the TREES Hostel parking lot yielded nothing but a lone Stripe-headed Rhabdornis that perched at the tip of the dead tree. 

It was now nearing noon and we were all drenched in endless sweat. We bid our beloved professor goodbye and thanked him for being our host and guide.


Despite the 36 degree Celsius temperatures we still were able to get some good shots of the local birds of Los Banos. We may not have gotten as many and as good photographs as those that Prof. Tirso posted in the internet, but we were happy.

Three and they're far

But enough about golf talk...


A short stint at the University of the Philippines in Los Banos resulted in below par as far as expectations go. The fruiting tree next to the TREES hostel was still fruiting but apparently not as much as before. Aside from the noisy bulbuls (both Philippine and Yellow-vented) there were no other birds to speak of. Well, there were a couple of Tarictics who preferred the fruits on the far (and hidden) side and therefore were not seen. Let me rephrase that: they were seen, albeit so briefly, but were not photographed. Let me rephrase that further: They were photographed, albeit so badly that it didn't really count. So there.


What saved the day for me and my wife was that we got two lifers and one photo-lifer (seen before, but photographed for the first time).  It all began when Fred Serrano (a Philippine Bird  Photographer Forum member) and his daughter, whom we met at the TREES hostel grounds, invited us to visit the Agri-Park where he said tons of Oriental Pratincoles had been observed. Now Oriental Pratincoles are on the top ten, no, make that top five, of my want-to-photograph list. When we got there, my heart stopped as there were....zero, none, nada, not a single Pratincole. Or any bird for that matter, except for a couple of Intermediate Egrets and a Brown Shrike. We were in a state of percolating disappointment when my wife pointed at a black bird perched on a wire in the distance. "I think that's a Crested Myna", she said hesitantly. My binos confirmed that it was and sensing an opportunity for a photo-lifer, I immediately set-up my gear..the one using the 500mm lens (with a 1.4 extender, mind you).  Let me explain at this point that the Myna was perched on a wire above the middle of a ricefield and that the closest I can set my tripod on was at the road's edge a thousand feet away. But a photo-lifer is a photo-lifer even if the subject was a mere dot on my camera's viewfinder.

Back at the hostel grounds our moods became gloomier harmonizing perfectly with the darkening skies. Families of Philippine Falconets and Coppersmith Barbets all sharing the same dead tree failed to revive the elan we once had.


It finally rained when we decided to have lunch just outside the campus grounds. It stopped when we returned to the TREES' premises. We sat forlornly as we waited for the skies to clear up. I glanced at the pine tree near the road and noticed a clump of green. Couldn't be a pine cone I mused. Again, using my binos, I almost slipped on the wet mossy surface of the hostel parking area as I realized I was looking at a Guaiabero! A small chunky green feathered ball way up in the tree, way out there by the roadside. A lifer! ...and it was not only far, it was backlit. Don't you just love it when we bird photographers have a term for a picture that is well below our acceptable standards. We call them "documentary" shots. Photos taken for documentary purposes only...just to prove that we indeed saw this particular species. And believe me these are documentary shots of a Guaiabero at its very essence.

The third, and final, super far-away, dot-in-the-screen photograph we got was that of another lifer - the Stripe-headed Rhabdornis. When the Falconets and Barbets finally abandoned the tall dead tree, the Rhabdornises came. These are unobtrusive, tiny, brown-and-white birds that blend so well against the tree trunks where they hunt for grub. Needless to say, all we got were some gorgeous documentary shots of our newest lifer. (At least we also got pictures of the tiny flies swarming at the Rhabdornis' head).

In golf, three under par is a really good score. In our case, three and even though they're far, were good enough scores as well. Actually we could even claim four or maybe even five and-they're-far pictures but that would really stretch the analogy. Let me just say that we had pun while it lasted.