Birding Taytay

There had been several postings in Facebook recently of birds seen in Taytay. That, of course, piqued our curiosity. Thanks to our birder friend, Linda Gocon, who gave us precise directions on how to get to the birding place, my wife and I went early Saturday morning.

We were surprised that on a small patch of wetland just beside the road were a number of birds! The first species that we saw were a bunch of Crested Mynas frolicking on the muddy area.

 

There was also a small flock of Little Egrets and a single Intermediate Egret feeding on the wetland.

 

Then we noticed small brown birds moving about. Upon closer look, we were surprised to see Wood Sandpipers, Common Sandpipers and a bunch of Little Ringed Plovers.

Wood Sandpiper

 

Common Sandpiper

Little Ringed Plover

 

There were also a few Black-winged Stilts.

 

Cynthia even got a shot of an immature White-browed Crake.

 

At around 8 am, someone came and waded through the said wetland, spooking all the birds there. And that ended our short birding trip in Taytay.

Purple Train

A vast majority of our bird photography friends had already seen and posted pictures of the Purple-throated Sunbird in Facebook. This species had been a sure sighting in the garden of another birding friend, Prof. Tirso Paris in Los Banos. So the remaining few of us who still have not yet availed of this opportunity decided to ride the Purple-throated Sunbird train this Saturday. When I contacted our dear Prof. Tirso to request permission to access his sunbird haven, he said he may not be able to guarantee any sightings since the banana flowers that this species feed on had been reduced to only three stalks. The day before, it took almost two hours of waiting before they appeared, our friend told me. Nevertheless I told him that we would still try our luck.

Early Saturday morning, while we were driving to his place, Prof. Tirso messaged me advising us to take our time since it was raining in Los Banos. Indeed it was as we exited the freeway and was on the road along Calamba. After a leisurely breakfast at Jollibees, I got another message from Prof. telling me that we can now go to his garden as the sun was already shining. 

(For Cynthia and myself, it had been like this for several occasions. There was a time when we were going to Kinabalu Park in Sabah. Our driver was telling us that we were so lucky because it had been raining non-stop the past few days there but now the skies were clear.)

As we were unloading our gear, another car also parked behind us. We were pleasantly surprised to see friends Maia and Djop. They were also going after the sunbirds. We settled in Prof. Tirso's garden and traded some stories. After two hours (just as our host predicted) the sunbirds came. First it was an immature. Then there was the female. Finally the colorful male completed our set of photos. This happened again twice within 30-minute intervals. At past 11, the four us - me, my wife, Peter and Wenxing - agreed to call it a day since our collective stomachs were now groaning for some lunch. Maia and Djop decided to stay and look for other species in the area. We thanked Prof. Tirso profusely for his kindness and hospitality.

Immature

Female

Male

A short drive to the APEC area yielded only Wood Sandpipers and scads of Munias (both Chestnut and Scaly-breasted) which were either too far or partially hidden among the tall grass for a good shot.

And guess what...after lunch it started to rain again.

Ricefields Forever?

Gone are the ponds. The place can no longer be referred to as "wetlands". In its place are ricefields, as far as the eye can see. Because of that thousands of migrant ducks and waders no longer come here. This is Candaba now.

In fairness, there were still birds. Chestnut Munias, Red Turtledoves, and Zebra Doves were plentiful.

Our trip with birding buddies Peter Ting and Wenxing Pan last Saturday was like a roller coaster ride. There were ups and downs. The downside being the absence of the ducks and waders I mentioned earlier. The whole time we were there, we only saw two Wandering Whistling Ducks, two Black-winged Stilts, one Long-toed Stint and one Common Greenshank. Wood Sandpipers, on the other hand, seemed to be more in numbers. Perhaps it was because now they tended to flock closer together in the watery gaps between the rice crops.

The upside was being rewarded with really close views of two kinds of bitterns: The Yellow as we were entering the site and the Cinnamon as we were leaving.

Yellow Bittern

Cinnamon Bittern

Then we had the up-and-down experience of trying to photograph birds in flight. First was a pair of Eastern Marsh Harriers. Each time we saw them they tended to fly farther away from us. We had to either wait for them to fly back or we leave the place then return when the raptors felt that there were no more people around and got more confident to fly closer.

The other challenge was the Oriental Pratincole. Surprisingly, there were lots of them, maybe close to a hundred, all ceaselessly flying overhead. Trying to focus on an individual is a test of patience and skills.

Without the ducks and waders, we had to cut our trip short. It was about this time last year when we twitched some rarities here: the Baikal Teal, Falcated Duck and Spot-billed Duck all seen at the pond close to the Mayor's house. Now there were just ricefields. Is it going to be like this forever?

Missed Purple Mystery

The last time we saw it was in April, 2011. We've been to Candaba lots of times since then and we never even had a glimpse of it. "Isn't it a bit mysterious that the once very confiding Purple Swamphens were now nowhere to be seen?" I told my wife. Cynthia couldn't agree more. "It's been more than three years and we missed seeing this bird!" she confirmed.

Saturday we were back at the popular birding site in Pampanga, once again hoping that we would see our long lost target species. It was a beautiful sunny morning and the usual denizens of the wetlands were up and about. A male Pied Bush Chat was shaking off the dews from its feathers.

A Clamorous Reed Warbler was living up to its name climbing to the top of the bush loudly announcing its presence.

As we entered via the "back door" to the marshy area, Black-winged Stilts and Sandpipers (Wood and Marsh) were beginning their foraging for breakfast.

Black-winged Stilt

Wood Sandpiper and Marsh Sandpiper

Of course, this time of the year, the migrant Common Kingfisher was a sure sighting here.

Surprisingly, ducks were scarce. Only a few Philippine and Wandering Whistlings were present. Luckily, there was a single (yes, just one), where there used to be hundreds of them, Tufted Duck. I said, luckily, because this was the first time I was able to take a decent photo of this annual visitor.

The hours passed. The absence of the usual migrating species was saddening. There were some Grey and Purple Herons but they preferred to stay at a distance, with one exception.

Purple Heron

It was nearing 10 am and the blue skies were now slowly being covered by grey clouds. We were already on our way out when Cynthia suggested we linger near the junction of the road from the mayor's house. My wife walked a hundred feet or so and stared at the wetlands before her. I was scanning the edges hoping to see a Black Bittern. "Purple Swamphen!" my partner suddenly yelled. "But it flew away already!" I walked over to where she was and she showed me a photo of our hoped for bird, flying indeed. 

"Maybe it will come back," my wife said assuringly. We switched places. I stayed where we were and she went to look for Black Bitterns. Perhaps it was about half an hour when I saw something purplish emerged from the tall vegetation - but only oh so quickly - returning once again in the deep brushes. I managed to take a few quick shots before it completely disappeared from view. 

When I told Cynthia about my fleeting encounter she was happy that finally we both saw the purple bird that we missed seeing since 2011. A soft drizzle signalled that it was time for us to go. It was amazing that it decided to wait until we both have seen our target bird before the rain started to fall.

A Field Guide

The ricefields inside IRRI in Los Banos is a haven for birds. However, it being a place for experimental rice farming, access is limited to their employees and their guests. Luckily our friend, Prof. Tirso Paris, has that access privilege. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning when my wife and I together with friends, Irene and Bong, met up with Prof. Tirso at the IRRI gate.

All four of us were excited to go birding at this place because we hadn't done much birding for almost three months now. As I mentioned in my previous blog, blame the burning hot summer days then followed by the season of torrential rains for that. Prof. Tirso warned us not to expect too much because migration wasn't in full swing yet. Still, photographing any bird in the lush fields of IRRI would be enough for us.

Although we missed taking pictures of our target birds: the Greater Painted Snipe and the Barred Buttonquail, we were nevertheless thrilled at the birds we photographed. Foremost of these were the Wood Sandpipers which were practically all over the place. Irene counted almost a hundred of them!

Next would be the Zitting Cisticolas. Their incessant twittering filled the morning air.

As expected in any ricefield, both Chestnut and Scaly-breasted Munias were busy feeding at some of the ripening grains.

Chestnut Munia

Scaly-breasted Munia

The usually skittish Buff-banded Rails were sunning themselves, trying to get rid of the moisture from the early morning dew.

A surprise was a Pied Bush Chat.

Another surprise was when we saw a Cinnamon Bittern performing what we presumed to be a courtship display. Inasmuch as we didn't see the female maybe this was just its way of drying itself from the previous night's dampness.

The usual denizens of IRRI brightened up our morning. The Paddyfield Pipit was diligently hunting for food.

While the Oriental Skylark was already feeling the heat of the day as midmorning came.

It was a fruitful day of birding for us. We owe it all to Prof. Tirso who was our "guide" to the field birds of IRRI.

photo taken by Irene

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....

The More the Manyer

I already had misgivings about our upcoming birding trip to Candaba. Although Cynthia and I had a blast last month in photographing those oh so friendly rails, this time around I was having this strange feeling that things would be quite different. And I mean the bad side of different. Nevertheless I acceded to the request of bird photographer friend Gabs Buluran that we go visit Candaba the first Saturday of 2012. Joining us in this sortie was another friend, Edu Lorenzo Jr.


Our primary target was the rail population that were, to put it in a single word, abundant, not more than two weeks ago. As we approached that haven of the Rallidae family we were surprised at the conspicuous absence of birds! Only the Eurasian Tree Sparrows (yeah, who cares about those) were there. Deep inside me I was squirming at the thought that my fears were becoming a reality. Little did I know that even worse was yet to come.


We entered the "backdoor" towards the Sanctuary. Just a few meters in and we three were all excited to see some Wood Sandpipers basking in the early morning sun. 

I thought our luck had drastically changed. Gabs, who was driving, stopped at the first bend. We all got out and looked at the hundreds of dots - I mean ducks - out there snoozing on the huge pond. While Edu was busying himself in chasing after the Chestnut Munias, Gabs and I waited patiently for the White-browed Crake to fully expose itself onto the ricefield. It never did.


We drove on. Munias were plentiful. And skittish. The Pied Bush Chats even more so, if that is even possible. We stopped where farmers were plowing the field thereby attracting hundreds of egrets (both Intermediate and Little) and Whiskered Terns. My desire to take a photograph of an individual Intermediate Egret became a challenge since there were just too many of them feeding close together.

Moving on. Gabs suddenly stopped when he saw a small flock of Black-winged Stilts starting to stir from their slumber. Thankfully these long-legged birds were still groggy from their sleep that we were able to get some good shots without them flying off.

Even the usually nonchalant doves that barely avoided my car's tires the last time I was here were nowhere to be seen. Except for a Red Turtle Dove that flew to a nearby tree when we approached and afforded us a quick shot.

As we approached the Sanctuary we noticed people. Lots of them. This was no surprise though for I knew all along that birders and bird photographers would be here today. And the reason for my trepidation earlier. Not that having all these bird enthusiasts here was bad. It's just that it is possible that our photographic chances might be a little hampered. That would be because of the presence of many vehicles going hither and thither on a very narrow road. 


So we made lemonade from lemons and simply enjoyed a convivial conversation with our kindred spirits. Maia, Jops and Clemence, members of the Wild Bird Club of the Philippines (WBCP), even allowed us to look through their spotting scopes at the raft of ducks floating lazily in the distance. In the course of our bird talks we learned that they have seen some species that we haven't. Perhaps it was just bad luck on our part. Which, unfortunately, continued even on our way home. Upon my suggestion, we decided to once again look for the Rails by the roadside. A few did show up but as soon as we get the bird in our sights, a motor vehicle would zoom by driving our subject into hiding.


At the end of the day and looking back at what we experienced that morning, I felt a pang knowing that my apprehensions did actually come to fruition. When I told Gabs about it the day before, he said he is determined to get those Buff-banded Rail photos regardless if we encounter a throng of people. To which I jokingly replied, "The more the many-er".