Archive for the ‘Welcome’ Category

A Steller day!

December 23, 2021
Steller’s Sea-Eagle with 3rd-year Bald Eagle, showing the immense size.

Sunday, 19th December trembled with the news that a Steller’s Sea-Eagle previously present last month in Nova Scotia had, despite it’s enormous size and striking plumage, clandestinely made it’s way to Massachustetts. It had been reportedly seen on the 12th December, but news had not filtered out to the masses. It had been looked for in the same area but not found.

Monday, 20th December saw me bleary-eyed wander towards the coffee-maker, checking my phone messages. One message, from local Yale post-grad Severin Uebbing, had asked me if, “I was going for the eagle?” I might if it’s ever relocated I thought to myself, but then the next texts soon cleared my fugue state. News that some local Mass birders had relocated the eagle in the same area that very morning, and it was on view now, was shocking to say the least. “Pick you up after my coffee!”, I said.

And off we drove the two hours to the Mass/Rhode Island border, observers on site already relaying messages and tracking the bird as it moved up and down the river near Dighton State Park, Mass.
About 1/2 hour out, near Providence, we got news the bird had flown north and out of sight and was being looked for. Not good news. The tension was starting to bubble up to the surface. As we headed towards the last known spot on the west side of the river, we got an update that the bird was perched near the Taunton Marina. We were right at the marina, but couldn’t find a crowd, which was unsettling. Scanning the area, I quickly found the crowd – on the opposite side of the river, about 1/2 mile to 3/4 away. Damn – we’re on the wrong side!! Then I looked again and I realized they were all looking towards us….the bird must be in the trees right here, but we were blocked by a boat yard. Panic was starting to well up and a couple of birders showed up, including our friend Alex Lin Moore. We gained permission to access the boat yard and soon, on the far side, with a clear view to the north, we easily located the bird perched not too far away in great light. A veritable donkey in a tree with a bag full of carrots for a beak!! It dwarfed the Bald Eagle next to it. Result!!!

We soaked up the views until around 1:10pm, when the bird suddenly dropped out of the tree, flew north up river, circled high for a moment, showing it’s amazing white forewings, and then, when mobbed by a Raven, continued high to the NW and out of sight. It hasn’t been seen again.

A composite showing the dazzling pattern and stepped trailing edge perhaps suggesting that this bird is a younger adult.

The story of this individual’s wanderings can be found here in this NY Times article . I had been lucky enough to see many of these amazing beasts in Rauso, Hokkaido, Japan a few winters ago and include a few images below.

Observations of Life

May 31, 2021

While my Dad was away, I thought I’d hijack his blog this month to offer some of my thoughts.

2020 was a year that COVID-19 wreaked havoc on all our freedoms.

Everyone has been confronted with difficult times, but as a teenager the stress of lock-downs came at a time when I was already trying to cope with something that’s affected me all my life. As an adolescent, I thought the mood swings and irrational behavior resulted from a neurological mis-wiring of sorts, or maybe “being on the spectrum”, or perhaps even a kind of generalized seasonal disorder. Dealing with it left me overwhelmed with anxiety, frustration and despair. Over the years it became clear that my issues were the result of something worse. Much worse.

You see, my dad is a birder. He watches birds. Who knew that was a thing? It’s an obsession but it looks like an addiction. Over the years, I’ve seen firsthand the toll it takes on those closest to him. He’s had this horrible affliction for as long as I can remember and apparently there is no cure. From the outside, you’d never know he has a terrible disease based on his physical appearance. Aside from making soft grunts every time he moves a little too quickly, he has a full head of hair; exercises regularly; and looks generally healthy (well, as much as a 50something desperately trying to pass for 40 again can look healthy). People who know my Dad ask me what it’s like to have such a “charming and fun father”. If people only knew the degree of mental suffering that lay beneath that self-appointed façade. He tells me that many of his close friends have the disease too. Many of them occasionally visit our house and knowing that now helps explain a lot about his friends. I think that knowing there are other people suffering the same malaise makes him feel less alone.

There are times when my Dad is a functioning member of society, but seasonal fluctuations in behavior, particularly in the first two weeks of May, or from mid-August to early November, make living with him particularly intolerable. Siblings, parents, partners and friends of birders all know what it’s like to live with them during these tough times. I try to be understanding and patient. I really do. My Dad is wonderful and caring, but he just gets so self-absorbed.  It’s hard to connect with him sometimes. When he’s going through seasonal withdrawal symptoms, he paces around the room and just stares out the window, mumbling despondently to himself about, “Where are all the cold-fronts?” or “Will it ever go North-west?”

After all these years I can often predict when he is about to have a full-blown meltdown. The trigger is multiple phone messages usually in short succession. He disassociates from reality and his eyes glaze over while he reads the incoming texts.  I don’t know where he goes in that moment. It then abruptly shifts into frenetic running around the house, interspersed with a lot of Tourette’s-like outbursts. He doesn’t usually swear in front of me, but when he does I know it’s a big deal.

“Where the @!!*##$$! are my @!!*##$$!  keys?”, is quickly followed by the always predictable yelling of, “Alex, get your shoes on! Turn that computer off! Get in the car. Now! What are you doing? I asked you to do ONE thing! For the love of God, why are your shoes still not on? COME ONNN! We have to go. NOW!”  

In those moments, he turns from being the most attentive and loving father to an impatient, maniacal asshole. I start to get anxious. I try to escape to my room to play Minecraft before he can force me into the car to drive hours to some shithole sewage pond to look for a “Mega” or a “Crippler”. I have no clue what those are, or what it all means. It’s like he’s suddenly talking in tongues.

Kidnapped for a twitch to see a Gyrfalcon (for the third time!) and made to hold up the book to feign interest.


I just want a normal Dad like my friends have: a Dad that wants to push me on the swings; a Dad that will chase me around at Tag; a Dad that wants  to take me to the park to bond with me (and not just because the park is next to a good gull spot). I remember walks where I would run around, playfully kicking up fall leaves into the air while he often seemed uninterested and distracted. With his head tilted skyward, he would ask in a quizzical manner, “Alex …Do You hear that?“
Sometimes I want to scream, “No! No, Dad, I don’t hear that {F@!!*##$$! } Blackpoll Warbler”. I say the word “F@!!*#$$!” in my head, because he doesn’t like me swearing. I know F@!!#$$!  is a bad word, but he is F!!*##$$!  making me say it. I don’t like to go outside. I don’t want to look at gulls. I don’t want to walk down the beach for owls. I don’t care about the best way to tell “long-billed” juvenile Semipalmated  from Western Sandpipers. I just don’t. I love you Dad. I just don’t understand you.  


Seagulls suck! This trip to the park magically coincided with the presence of a Ketchup Gull, or whatever it was called, some seagull from Asia that looked like all the rest. Here’s me being made to point it out for one of his pretentious facebook posts.

While there is presently no cure for what my dad has, and I know he can’t control himself, it makes me angry when he loses sight of what’s important in the world. I wish he would love me as much as he loves birds. But I know that will never happen.

I know there are other kids out there suffering with parents like mine. My heart goes out to them and those selfless people that choose to live with these tortured souls that suffer with this lifelong addiction.

As a young child, I had no choice. No way out. But now, as a teenager, it’s time to stand up for myself. It’s time to set some boundaries. I will no longer be tricked into going out with him for “just a little while”. I can stay home alone now. I offer this letter as hope to others. Just know you are not alone and there is light at the end of the tunnel. It’s time to stand strong and take your life back.

Kamchatka Gull, West Haven, CT

April 5, 2021

4th April
Heading home from Easter weekend at Ingrid’s, I dragged my son Alex around Seaside Park, Bridgeport looking for the previous week’s reported Mew Gull, found by Jeremy Nance, but it had gone missing. Pix revealed it to be the Asian/Siberian form kamschatschensis, a larger, darker and stouter-billed version of Eurasian canus and west coast North American brachyrhyncus.

I drew a blank and checked a few spots o the way home, stopping in at Bradley Point to check the loafing gulls there. I’d had several Glaucs and Iceland and had hit pay dirt earlier by unearthing a smashing California Gull. Thinking there may be a chance the Kam Gull might relocate, I made the effort to drop in, but there were few gulls present, so I continued home, notching up a “new” first-cycle Iceland Gull off shore at West Haven Boat Ramp.

5th April
I dropped Alex at school and instead of driving the 40 mile round trip, opted to hit Hammo and bird the area before going back and picking him up. I was not prepared for the brutal wind, driving the temperature down. Despite covering a good area on foot, there was little activity. On my way back to New Haven, I got a call from John Oshlik that he checked Bradley Point and had deftly found a/the Kamchatka Gull loafing on the flats with gulls. Damn! Nice find!! But why wasn’t it there last night??? Finding a Mew Gull locally has been a target of mine and I’ve joked with Nick Bonomo who seems to find Mew Gulls in every flock of gulls he looks at, that I can’t find one to save my life…lol! I had not seen the recent Kam Gull at Stamford in 2019 so I was keen to see this Asian bruiser!

I arrived to find the bird still present and got killer views of it with Frank Gallo and John. The bird was quite tame, coming to food at the main beach before flying off but apparently soon returned to the flats.

A large individual, it was bigger and much longer-bodied than the nearby Ring-billeds and showed the typical “mean” look with pear-shaped head and a long, stout yellowish bill. The eye was grayish, peppered darker, and had a nice vermillion eye-ring. All the above features were classic Kamchatka and at odds with the other forms of Mew Gull.

Naturally Adventurous – a podcast with Ken Behrens & Charley Hesse

April 5, 2021

Sharing this excellent podcast series since some subscribers to my blog may not see my Facebook posts.

Ken Behrens and Charley Hesse will be well-known to many. As well-travelled and respected birders and professional guides they have compiled some great adventures for your auditory pleasure. Laid back and conversational in tone, it gives some insight into the trials and tribulations encountered in the quest to see some of the world’s most enigmatic birds and mammals. Many of us have found ourselves on that knife-edge of bravery vs stupidity in the quest for the ultimate natural experience. Finally a podcast by birders for birders. I heartily recommend you give them a listen.

Click here for Episodes

They also recently invited me on to tell some travel stories from my birding trips, which was a three-part interview because I can make short stories long. Lmao!–Ken-welcome-Julian-Hough-to-the-show-esvvc7–Ken-welcome-Julian-Hough-back-to-the-show-ethfmt–Ken-welcome-Julian-Hough-back-to-the-show-eu30d9

Progne martin sp. in Brooklyn, NY

April 5, 2021

2nd – 3rd April – Prospect Park Lake, Brooklyn, NY

I was heading down to Brooklyn to spend the Easter holidays when, on 1st April, a strange hirundine was found feeding over Prospect Park Lake by local birder Doug Gochfeld. The weather was overcast, rainy and he had noticed a bird hawking over the water with a small group of Tree Swallows. Initially he considered, rightly so, the bird may be a Purple Martin, albeit an early one. To his credit, he quickly realized something was odd about the bird and soon came to realize it was more likely a southern martin, possibly one of the so-called “snowy-bellied” forms – either Caribbean/Cuban/Sinaloan. Identification of progne martins is tough, especially of a lone vagrant.

Several local people were able to see the bird that afternoon and discussion began as to its identity.

I arrived midday on the 2nd, and after dropping Alex off at the apartment, I drove up to the lake to see the bird. The weather was overcast and chilly, and after a few minutes of seeing nothing, I located the bird feeding in a small cove at the west end of the lake. Along with locals, including Ryan Mandelbaum and Doug, we were treated to crippling views as the bird fed low over the water. I’ve zero experience with Caribbean or Cuban Martin, but compared to Purple Martin, it was clear this was a smallish progne martin with a dusky brown head, blue-black ear-covert patch and a contrasting whitish belly. The tail was rather narrowly forked, and overall the bird often looked more like a big swallow than a Purple-type martin.

The following day, I revisited the lake, and the bird was still present, but views were rather poor. I met up with Tom Johnson, Doug Gochfeld and Jay McGowan, and we discussed the bird. Tom had seen Caribbean and remarked he got a larger, more robust feel for that species rather than the smaller, slighter gestalt of the Brooklyn bird. Talk had turned to include Gray-breasted Martin, a form we all had seen in Central/South America, but as normal on such trips, I rarely spend much time studying them. They also vary across their geographical distribution adding to the identification issue. The small size and rather narrow tail fork seemed to be the features making Doug and others lean more into Gray-breasted Martin, an identification that is tentative, based on the limited info and inherent issues in progne martin identification.

Below are some composite shots of the bird taken on the 2nd April 2021. (CLICK FOR HI-RES IMAGES)

A small slim martin, with brown-washed head, dark auricular patch and a paler throat contrasting with a whitish belly and vent. Narrow tail fork and brown-washed flanks noticeable.
Upperparts with bluish washed mantle and median covert and upper rump, contrasting with brownish remiges and rectrices gave it a somewhat Barn Swallow feel.

31st January 2021 – Maine Stay

February 4, 2021

In bright sunlight, colors and subtle buff hues in the supercilium where burnt out. Note the somewhat robust appearance with diffuse brown streaks extending down past the red flanks. The legs are pinkish-horn with darker brownish toes which are pro-coburni. Nominate Eurasian iliacus usually have paler, more flesh-pink tarsi. The “tooth” shaped white tip to the top tertial and pointed rectrices age it as a SY.

The last time I was in Portland, Maine was in January 1997. It was one of my first winters in New England after migrating here from the UK. I saw an Ivory Gull. It was fantastic. A rare denizen of the ice floes of the Arctic north it performed as they often do – with unabashed boldness that belied its appearance.

I nearly made it to Portland again in the winter of 2018; on a half-hearted sojourn to see the Great Black Hawk that had put Portland back on the avian map once again. Late in its stay, this resident of Central and South America had become difficult and unpredictable. So we paused to bird at Salisbury, Massachusetts, but with no news by noon, we turned around and headed back to CT, only to hear news of its reappearance as we crossed the Nutmeg state line. Too late now.  The bird was taken into captivity soon after and succumbed to frost bite. A sad event, but the squirrels of Dearing Park were reported to have uttered a combined sigh of a relief.

So, with news of a Redwing (a Eurasian thrush) being found at Capisic Park, Portland Maine, by Brendan McKay on the afternoon of 29 Jan 2021, it galvanized a few local CT birders into Twitch Mode. It was a yard bird for me, albeit in my hometown of Bolton, UK.  In my boyhood days on the Isles of Scilly, I had scoured flocks of Redwings, Song Thrushes and Fieldfares looking for something rarer, like an American Robin. Now I spend my time scouring flocks of American Robins looking for Fieldfares, Redwings and Song Thrushes. Somebody’s havin’ a larff!

So, since I had not seen one for many years, it would be rude not to go check it out, if only to perform a meditative overhaul of my COVID-induced isolation. And…there was a chance it might be from the Icelandic population coburni, a subspecies tick for me.

Nick Bonomo, Glenn Williams, Dave Provencher, Anthony Viccarelli, Jason Rieger, Phil Rusch and myself, masked up and socially distanced, arrived to find the bird on-show immediately. That’s how I like my rare birds these days – UTBBB (Under the belt before breakfast).

The CT Dream Team onsite!

It was associating with a flock of American Robins, apparently attracted to the sumac and multiflora rose fruit in the park and was performing well at close range in nice sunlight. It was a bit of a pain initially, in that it would always be obscured by twigs and branches, but on the odd occasion, it did manage to find itself out in the open for some nice photo opps.

Showing the red flanks and underwing coverts and brownish-washed flanks.

In shade, the upperparts showed the darker, oily-look to them and the subtle buff tones to the fore and rear of the supercilium became a little more obvious. Here the underparts look more heavily marked with darker centres with diffuse brownish edges fitting coburni.

The feathers of the vent have large dark centres, recalling a Black and White Warbler, a feature noted by Garner et al. as pro-coburni.

Strangely enough, with no recent Redwing experience with which to compare,  it did appear to be a robust individual, appearing closer to American Robin in size, with a big bill and sturdy legs. Not as dark below as some coburni, it was nevertheless an interesting bird showing several traits of Icelandic Redwing more than the nominate European iliacus. In the bright sunlight, it looked bright with a whitish supercilium, and pale mid-belly, but when the bird retreated to the shadows and out of the bright sunlight, it looked a darker, more oily-olive brown color above, with more diffuse brown feather edges to the dark brown streaking that extended way down the flanks beyond the reddish breast sides. The most compelling feature for me was the dark-centered undertail coverts which are described as being typically paler and less well-marked in iliacus. This was a feature mentioned in my old friend Martin Garner’s excellent Birding Frontiers Winter Challenge book.

When I returned home, I had some good discussions with local birder Louis Bevier, and then I reached out to sharp Icelandic birder Yann Kolbeinsson who replied, “To me there is little doubt, this has to be a coburni. Bulky looking bird with darkish legs, heavy streaking on breast (not in the heavier end) but more importantly brown base/streaking down alongside the flanks beyond where the red stops. The streaks also being more arrow/droplet shaped than actual streaks.”

Ebird Checklist with more pix:

There is some obvious individual variation between the races, but this bird seems to fit within the paler end of coburni and would not fit a typical iliacus. For example, here’s a bird from Vancouver in Jan 2016 that is classic iliacus on plumage and would be the expected race to show up on the west coast of North America.

Note the greyer-brown tone to the small amount of upperparts we can see, coupled with the whitish ground color to the breast and unmarked belly. The dark streaking breaks up into small delineated droplets on the flanks. Note also the relatively whitish vent. Again, there is variation within iliacus with birds being more heavily marked, but had this bird shown up in eastern North America, it would easily be assignable to iliacus rather than coburni.

After our fill, we searched briefly for the western Black-headed Grosbeak that had been frequenting the park. It was the presence of this vagrant that had been the catalyst for the Redwing being found, but we drew a blank, but managed to see a wintering Dickcissel nearby with a flock of House Sparrow.

Then it was off to Arundel Cemetery, spending time en route looking in vain for Pine Grosbeak, a lifer for Jason. We soon arrived at the cemetery and found the flock of feeding Red and White-winged Crossbills. They weren’t as photogenic as we expected, but it was cool to see these niche-feeders plying their cone-destroying trade. It was at this point that we got an unexpected first for Maine – one that wasn’t on anyone’s radar I don’t think. Crossbills had been calling all the time we were there, and just as we convened to leave, the crossbills flushed in one group, giving their flight calls. Immediately one bird’s call stood out.  It was a Type 4 Red Crossbill! The first recorded in Maine. Woot!! In that moment, Nick Bonomo deserves full credit for having the presence of mind to keep his phone running so he was able to capture the call. We weren’t sure if it was Type 4 or perhaps Type 3, both seemed quite similar, especially when trying to compare the timbre of calls from different quality of recordings with real-world audible experiences. Tom Johnson quickly provided us with calls from a fly-over in New Jersey, but still it was hard to decide for sure which Type we had heard, although we suspected, and hoped it would be Type 4, which Nick later confirmed  by audio-spectrographic analysis.

Red Crossbill – Type 4

Info here:

Yeah, I know. You were expecting something sexier! Me too!

Jeff Groth’s landmark work in 1993, laid out the idea that each taxon gives a unique, identifiable call type when in flight. As many as 10 “call types” of Red Crossbill can be found across North America (Groth 1993, Benkman 1999, Irwin 2010), each of which may represent a different incipient species (Parchman et al. 2006).

More great in-depth and helpful info on Crossbills by Matt Young and Tim Spahr here:

We continued on towards Ogunquit to try for a long-staying Rock Wren, another western stray that had taken up residence at Perkins Cove. We had one last shot at Pine Grosbeak at Ogunquit, and it was while we had pulled over to reconnoiter the area, I spotted a female-type Pine Grosbeak perched up along the road. A few minutes later, we got great looks at this bird, ABA numero 600 for Jason!

We failed to see the Rock Wren, but the weather was beautiful and the cove was Maine-scenic. Small flocks of Harlequin’s and the odd eider loafed offshore, but the highlight was the Thick-billed Murre that Jason spotted close inshore.

Brunnich’s Guillemot aka Thick-billed Murre

It had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and showed well. Brunnich’s Guillemot as they were known back in the homeland, was a highly-sought after rarity. Most of the early British records involved dead or moribund individuals showing up on the tide wrack of the Orkney or Shetland Isles. I’ve never seen one in the UK, but I always transport myself back home when I see one here and watch it vicariously through a young twitcher’s eyes.

A fantastic day out with good friends and good birds!

Vireo sp

December 8, 2020
I wonder would anyone like to comment on this individual and explain reasoning why this is/isn’t a Cassin’s Vireo (or why it is a Blue-headed).

 click for larger images


Vireo sp, 9/20/2020







Vireo sp, 9/20/2020

Sometimes it’s just that easy!

November 21, 2020

October 29th was a shite weather day; raw, windy, and set against a canvas of an all-day deluge of horizontal rain. A good day to be inside, and that’s where I was, catching up on some adulting.  But not veteran CT birder, Frank Mantlik. He was out, “beating the bushes” around Stratford. His late afternoon text alert of a Hudsonian Godwit on the runways at Sikorsky airport, felt “right” given the date and weather. His other report of “an adult American Golden Plover with Black-bellieds” was intriguing given the date. As someone that’s tried to prime CT’s birders, and arm them with the fore knowledge to identify the confusingly similar Pacific Golden Plover, the main window of late July/early August occurrences for that species seemed firmly nailed shut at this point in time.

The initial pic (Frank Mantlik)

However, when viewing the pic he sent, an admirable feat given the conditions, I instantly spat my freshly-brewed cup of British tea all over my phone! Doug Gochfeld replied at the same time, putting words to my actions, “Pacific?”

Yes. Yes it was. The bill, the neckless-look with worn, faded wings screamed Pacific Golden Plover. Hours of pouring through golden plovers expectantly looking and hoping for CT’s first Pacific Golden had come to an unexpected end on this gloomy late October day. Panic set in. I hadn’t even finished absorbing the minutiae of the image as I did the proverbial headless chicken routine running around the house. I grabbed my gear and headed out the door, frantically urging others to do the same.

Frank had to leave, so when I arrived 30 minutes later, I was on my own. It was gloomy and the weather was atrocious. Black-bellieds were scattered across the runway, along with the Hudwit, which was quickly given the tip of the hat and then discarded in search of the bigger prize. After a panic-scan of the small group, I couldn’t find any sign of a golden plover. !!@@##. Was it the only bird NOT here? A few birders began to arrive and started to scan. Suddenly birds got up – a small mixed group of plovers and dunlin flew left and alighted on the runway some distance away. And there, in the middle of the flock, was “the bird”, “Got it. It’s in the flock on the runway. The small, dark one”. Views were horrific, but the hunched and leggy look with a somewhat truncated rear-end hinted at the identification as Pacific was correct.

Over the next hour the bird finally came closer and allowed for better looks. It still retained a decent amount of summer plumage- with black underparts splodges and the distinctive white neck stripe snaking down along the flanks ghosting the pattern of fresh adults. The worn primaries only projecting a short way past the tail tip were classic Pacific. The long bill was a good pro-Pacific Golden feature, and overall the shape was subtly different from the more long-necked and long-winged look of American Golden Plover.

Adult Pacific Golden Plover with Black-bellied Plover (Bruce Finnan). Note the long-billed, somewhat small-headed look with primaries projecting only a small way beyond the tail tip. The slightly broader nape stripe is evident here as is the longish bill giving this a subtly different gestalt from American.

Adult Pacific Golden Plover (Bruce Finnan). The pale stripe snaking down the flanks ghosts that of a fresh adult. Pacifics moult earlier than Americans and are often in full breeding plumage by April when many American’s are still in basic-type plumage. As such, that these tertials and primaries are so worn would seem to fit Pacific too and is probably a good clue in late fall. Pacifics often begin primary moult on the summer grounds, while Americans, being long-distant migrants, begin primary moult on the wintering grounds. An adult golden plover molting inner primaries in late fall would also be suggestive of Pacific. On this photo, the retained bright yellow notches to the scapulars are large and again are pro-Pacific features.

Kudos to Frank Mantlik for doggedly getting out and birding the area and locating this bird that was a long-awaited first for CT, especially since surrounding states have all recorded this species. While it was on several people’s radar, separating both species of golden plovers, as well as eliminating the similar European Golden Plover, can be difficult and luckily being aware in the moment allowed this bird to be identified within a minute and allowed a lot of people to connect.

Thinking Outside the Box

October 16, 2020
Juvenile Yellow Rail, Milford Pt, CT

Yesterday this happened.

I was cleaning the house when a text from Stefan Martin came through to say that a Yellow Rail was sitting in view next to the Coastal Audubon Center at Milford, CT.

Holy Christ! I was immediately in the car, lickety-split, bobbing and weaving (safely) down I-95 to Milford Pt. Why the excitement you ask?

This is the overview provided by Cornell University on their “All About Birds” website: A tiny marsh bird that lives its life concealed by grassy vegetation, the Yellow Rail is one of the hardest birds to see in North America. Perfectly camouflaged in complex patterns of black, brown, yellow, and white, Yellow Rails run as quickly as rodents through dense marsh vegetation. They rarely take flight, but when they do they reveal white patches in the wing.

Yellow Rails are likely annual passage migrants in CT but are essentially invisible transients by virtue of their behavior. Seeing one is a mythical challenge for most birders – many seasoned birders still need this for their life list. Seeing one usually involves a concerted effort; traveling to a specific spot, in a particular habitat, at a predetermined time of year. It may or may not involve milk cartons and rope.

This particular individual had an interesting backstory. It had been found nearby by a local homeowner who found the bird stunned in her yard and, thinking it was a “quail”, brought it to the Audubon Center. It was at that point that the “quail” made a break for it, and exited the box at breakneck speed, landing on the lawn of the coastal center where it had remained in view. I was happy the bird was present. The last “seen” one (a calling bird was found in the spring by Nick Bonomo in the eastern part of the state), was one “in-off” at Milford, many years ago, during a Big Sit. For that bird I had left Lighthouse Pt, and in basically a repeat of the above events, managed a $133 speeding ticket on the way to what was ultimately an empty bush. A bird in the bush is worth two they say – what a load of bollocks!!

Purists at this point will start pontificating on the “countability” factor of this as a valid bird on your list. I had seen Yellow Rails before, so I wasn’t concerned about the ethics of listing. I was just there to enjoy a surreal encounter with a seldom-seen species.

My life bird had been in Texas, flushed from a wet marsh on the gulf coast by 15 birders dragging a rope with a line of empty milk jugs filled with rocks attached to it. The reason for this is that the rumbling cacophony reverberates through the quiet marsh grass, causing these mouse-like rails to take flight, literally jumping onto many a life list in the process. Good deal!

Yellow Rail twitchers

Anyway, regardless that this bird had been described by one birder as being, “been boxed up like a head of lettuce” (thanks Tom Johnson!), it did not detract from the amazing experience of seeing one of these denizens of the marsh in full view. A juvenile, aged by the dull, blackish portions of the bill and barred breast sides, it just sat there quietly. As dusk approached, it didn’t look too healthy. It frequently closed its eyes and a displaced patch of crown feathers hinted at perceived trauma of hitting a window, or some other object, caused us to consider rehabbing it. At dusk, we made an attempt to catch it, but the bird perked up. We decided that it looked healthy enough from the outside, and shepherded it, in a rather comical way, into the nearby marsh edge, where we left it to do what Yellow rails do.

Thanks to Stefan Martin for being the ornithological maitre d and for getting the news out.

Costa Rica, 11th-18th March 2020

April 5, 2020

Ingrid soaking up the sunset at Playa Hermosa

Well that’s what it ultimately felt like. The original intention had been to visit Costa Rica to meticulously target several lifers mark Ingrid’s 50th birthday milestone, but a burgeoning global pandemic of COVID-19 had threatened to encroach on our well-laid plans. (click on each image for best resolution)

11th March
We flew out of Newark at 6am, Wednesday 11th March, before any airlines had grounded flights or things had started to get locked down tight, but not before anxiety about the virus in the US had started to soar. I had my “normal” sense of denial in the face of several mouth-watering lifers on offer. (For a non-birder, “normal denial” might border on “reckless denial”, but there was no need to panic just yet, right?). Costa Rica had few coronavirus cases, so it was probably a relatively safe place to be. That’s the mantra I repeated to both of us.

Knowing that my time birding was going to be more constrained than on a typical hardcore birding trip, I had spent the past several weeks meticulously dropping markers into Google Maps and nailing down specific sites for certain key species (often to the actual tree!). My limited time in the field was going to have to be executed with military precision.

Arriving at Newark, I think Ingrid had washed her hands 95 times before we got on our United flight. The flight itself was not full, and after Clorox-wiping down our entire seating areas, I felt suitably safe. I knew in Ingrid’s heightened state of “wash down” I’d be safe by association. Glad one of us was prepared with wipes. And she brought snacks too. I love her.

We touched down under a bright San Jose sky, picked up the rental car and by 11 am we were on our way south-west towards the coast. Our plan was to spend several days at the beach at Playa Hermosa, near Liberia, before spending a few more days in the cloud forest at Arenal, under the shadow of a volcano and ensconced by wonderful cloud forest scenery. We wanted to celebrate Ingrid’s birthday in style. However, faced with a 3.5hr drive it wasn’t too appealing to me to try and get to Guanacaste the first day. I proposed, and she agreed, to break the trip and stay the first night at Cerro Lodge, near Tarcoles. This was a great little spot and being only an hour from San Jose we could still make a day of it and do “stuff”. It would also enable me to do a bit of birding in the mangrove forest and the Tarcoles river area where a couple of key birds were on offer. An afternoon relaxing river boat trip would fill out the rest of the day and Ingrid said she was “In”.

We drove through arid, California-esque rolling hills and agricultural areas before arriving at Cerro. It was already hot, but we found Cerro more expansive than it had been in 2007. The restaurant deck made for a great shady place to take a nice cheese Casado lunch before heading down to our 3:30 scenic River Boat trip from Tarcoles, or “Project Collared Plover” as it was known to me. Our cabin at Cerro was adorable with outside bathroom and shower.

As we were relaxing, Ingrid, reacting to what sounded like a Pterodactyl outside our room, said, “What on earth is that?” I knew what it was. Walking outside, we enjoyed point blank views of a huge Scarlet Macaw feeding in the trees. It was impressive and she was impressed. I’d forgotten how cool these are when you see them in the wild.

Stunning Scarlet Macaw!

Streak-headed Woodcreeper in the rain

Cerro Lodge is cute, clean and a great place to spend time. The guy Frederico, whom I stayed with on our first trip in 2007, is actually still the owner and it was nice to meet him again and see that his hard work had paid off with maintaining a great eco-friendly place. I highly recommend staying here!

We headed down to the river boat launch, a short drive from Cerro, but first we made a quick stop en route. Punching in coordinates, I stopped the car on the dusty road under a single mango tree in the middle of nowhere, to the voice of “You have arrived”. Ingrid said, ”Why are we stopping here?” I said there’s a Black and White Owl roosting in this tree. She looked at me quizzically, as if to say, “How could you possibly know that?”

We got out and started to scour the tree. Within a minute or so, Ingrid shouted, “I’ve got them!”. The best words that birders love to hear! I ran back and she pointed to a pair of close Black and White Owls, snoozing in the afternoon heat. Well done that woman! Kudos to Steve Bird and Sarah Dzielski for GPS intel! Technology is wonderful!

Black and White Owl

Crippling views. Photos taken. Then it was back in the car. Arriving at the boat launch dock, what greeted me made my heart sink! A whole busload of tourists was milling about in the gift area. Any one of them could have been carrying coronavirus. I could see Ingrid reaching for a her “hip flask” of hand-sanitizer before I had even turned the engine off. Admittedly, I think being stuck on a boat in close confinement with 30 other people was now a concern. I knew it would be difficult, with such a full boat, to employ “social-distancing” and also to persuade the captain to target areas where I would have the best chance of connecting with Collared Plover and Mangrove Hummingbird. Most bird tour groups have a dedicated boat specifically for birds, but I was not in that position. At this stage, I was a little (more?) concerned about the former part.

I grabbed a local tour guide and asked, in my charming way (stop it, you know I can be!), if there was any chance of getting on another boat since the other one “looked too full”. In a few minutes he came back and said, this is Barbara, she is training up to be a guide, she’ll take you out. So, we ended up having a boat all to ourselves and they were all too keen to help get me ticks!

Ingrid and me chilling on the Tarcoles River Boat

We had a fabulous and enjoyable afternoon cruising the Tarcoles river. Ingrid looked relaxed and was enjoying the scenery and Barbara regaled us with cool information about the American Crocodiles in the area. Temperature dictates the sex of them when hatching – warmer temperatures produced more young males, while lower temperatures produced more females.

American Crocodile (Ingrid Ducmanis)

Mangrove swallows circled the boat, Turquoise-browed Motmots looked resplendent in the riverside trees and (Mangrove) Common Black Hawk, Yellow-headed and Crested Caracaras sailed overhead. Boat-billed Flycatcher, Red-lored Parrot, Common Tody-Flycatcher and Rufous-naped Wrens were seen, while a close Bare-throated Tiger Heron gave great views.

Turquoise-browed Motmot

Crested Caracara

The boat came to a stop on the inside bend of the river. The Captain nodded that this bank was an area for the plovers. Scouring the dry, muddy area, I was distracted by a sitting Double-striped Thick-knee. Tick! And then, BOOM! Collared Plover. Scouring the river on my previous trip in 2007 and areas in San Blas, Nayarit, Mexico had made this a nemesis bird for years. But, in a short period of time, the long hunt for Collared Plover was done.

I rarely get new shorebird ticks on trips. Collared Plover had eluded me on several trips so it was good to “unblock” this!

Next, we high-tailed it back toward the ocean, and Barbara took us up an intertidal channel full of mangroves and tall trees. Beautiful habitat. They pulled in close, pointing out some roosting Boat-billed Herons, a shoebill-like night-heron that is local and uncommon. Then we drifted slowly, looking and listening. Mangrove Hummingbird is a Costa Rican endemic, and locally uncommon along the coast. They like to feed on flowering white mangrove plants but are hard to find and tough to see.  A Prothonotary Warbler popped out and two Plumbeous Kites sailed over. Suddenly, the captain and I both heard a Mangrove Hummingbird calling. We both saw the same movement first, high in a tree, the brief, almost mirage-like apparition of a hummingbird flying away. Motherfather UTV’s!!

Dusk was falling and we headed back to the dock. Under the setting sun the views and scenery of the distant hills, peppered by the sight of Scarlet Macaws flying by, was making a nice first impression on Ingrid. I was happy to get some birding under the belt, but the tour-guide side of me was equally thrilled that she seemed to be having a nice time.

Sunset over the Tarcoles River (Ingrid Ducmanis)

As we drove down the entrance road to Cerro, a nice flock of Lesser Nighthawks showed well.

Lesser Nighthawk

The setting sun over the Pacific made for a beautiful finale to a great first day. We stopped to take a pic and as if on cue a Hoffman’s Woodpecker flew in and landed on the fence post. A perfect avian addition to anchor the scene.

Our first evening at Cerro Lodge ends with a stunning sunset over the Nicoya Peninsula, anchored by a silhouetted Hoffman’s Woodpecker. (Ingrid Ducmanis)


12th – Cerro Lodge Entrance Road
The plan today was to be out at 5am, walk the entrance road, come back at 7-ish, grab some breakfast and coffee with Ingrid, then blast off to nearby Carara for some intense birding and nab Royal (another nemesis) Flycatcher and Long-tailed Manakin. That would ultimately not happen. By the time I had gotten back from the walk, the heat had gotten up to 80 degrees by 8am and it made no sense to drive to Carara for what would be a very brief visit given the time and increasing temperature. I opted to relax and bird the Cerro Lodge grounds, coming up empty on any distant Yellow-billed Cotingas from the deck.

Reflections (Ingrid Ducmanis)

My plan got off to a good start with Cinnamon Hummingbird outside the room – a species I’d failed to connect with on two Mexico trips! As is often the case with nemesis birds, subsequently I couldn’t avoid this species over the next few days.  Rufous-tailed Hummingbird, and a female Ruby-throated were seen along with Nutting’s and Brown-crested Flycatcher. A steady stream of Tropical Kingbirds paraded up from the coastal floodplain, while the first Streaked Flycatcher was noted. I found a fruiting tree that held a nice assortment of birds: Masked Tityra, Bright-rumped Attila, Brown-crested Flycatcher, Tropical Gnatcatcher and Yellow-throated and Yellow-Green Vireo. Best of all was great looks at a Crane Hawk, a species I had only seen once before – 33 years prior, in Santa Ana, Texas in March 1987. Today’s individual was essentially a lifer given the looks I had at the time of the Texas bird.

Walking back up the road towards the lodge, the car that had passed me earlier was now stopped in the middle of the unpaved track. Then I realized why. Where I had been standing ½ hour ago, was now occupied by a huge fallen tree.  And it was completely blocking the road! They were knackered!

Problems! Getting the car up and over the bank on the left was tricky!

So, I gave them a hand, and with a bit of Macgyver-ing, we managed to get the car up on the raised banking. Getting it off the banking was a bit scary, since the low clearance of the car and the grade of the bank to the road were unequal. At one point, with the car at 45 degrees and me pushing it back to stop it rolling over, we managed to get the car back on track – literally! Phew…they would have been there for a while. I took them up on the offer of a ride arriving back just in time to meet Ingrid for coffee before we packed up and headed towards Liberia.

A long drive, in the heat of the afternoon, passed quickly. Ingrid was tasked with one job. The open fields and roadside wires near Bagaces on our way NW was a regular haunt of my next target species – Pearl Kite. This diminutive, classy-looking kite was high on my list. Despite scanning lots of good areas we drew a blank.

We climbed over some hills before dropping down into a sheltered cove of Playa Hermosa and were greeted by the welcoming cerulean ocean that would be a nice respite from the heat. We checked in to our swanky beachside hotel for a couple of days of R&R. It was a great and tranquil spot. Howler monkeys howled, and White-throated Magpie Jays and Red-lored Parrots buzzed around the parking lot.

Dropping down into Playa Panama, Guanacaste. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

The Trancas farm fields were a set of agricultural fields a few miles inland. They were dry – so no hope of any Jabiru and few birds were seen. I was back for a late breakfast with Ingrid and we spent the afternoon relaxing at the beach being serenaded by Great-Tailed Grackles, Social Flycatchers and Kiskadees. A few hours birding in the same area produced a few more birds but nothing of note, a few Common Black Hawks, a Gray Hawk and the “usual suspects”.

That afternoon, after the heat of the day was dying down, I headed back out along the road to the Trancas farm fields. A burning sugarcane field drew my attention.

A sugarcane(?) field controlled burn

Pulling off the road, I scoped the edges of the burn, seeing a good number of vultures but also present were a good number of hawks, quite easily identifiable as adult Swainson’s Hawks. They were picking off insects fleeing the fire. A cool sight I had never seen before. Birding was quiet, but as I neared the edge of town, a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher flew over my head. This was a new bird for the trip.

Little did I know this cracking Scissor-tailed Fly was a herald of more to come in the next few minutes as it was evident a northward movement of these was occurring.

Getting out, two more flew over, and then a third, and a fourth. It was obvious there was a small movement going on. Scanning the field they were dropping into, I was stunned to find it littered with these long-tailed tyrannids. I counted one dead tree with over 50 in it and by nightfall the total in this one field had risen to more than 120.

A field full of Scissor-taileds – nearly 90 in one tree at dusk!


13th March – Playa Hermosa, Guanacaste
The dawn plan was driving the road leading inland and birding any suitable areas. There was no “prime” spot, just stopping at any habitat that looked productive. The road Pat O’Donnell recommended was the road leading east from Playa Panama out to the Trancas farm fields.

Birding this road produced Black-headed Trogon, Pale-billed Woodpecker, Squirrel Cuckoo, White-necked Puffbird, Streak-backed Oriole, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Brown-crested Flycatcher amongst others. A small wet marsh on the outskirts of Playa Panama hosted Red-billed Pigeon and Northern Jacana.

The small area of water, known as the catfish ponds, allow access to birders. I found a gate and let myself in. Groove-billed Anis and Black-faced Grassquits flitted along the banking. Anhingas, Wood Stork and a bevvy of several hundred Blue-winged Teals and Black-bellied Whistling Ducks filled the ponds but despite a good check the duck diversity was limited to these two species.

Catfish Ponds

Black-necked Stilts were present in small numbers and a flock of 50+ Short-billed Dowitchers packed themselves tightly into the shallow water at the edge of the ponds. When I got out to grab my scope, everything took flight. I noticed a small flock of about 10+ smaller waders that were distant, but identifiable by their chunky shape and clear-cut breast band, as Pectoral Sandpipers. A distinctive “brzzzt” call gave away two Dickcissels. A highlight, and nice surprise for me, was seeing a very distant Yellow-headed Caracara being mobbed by grackles. I was shocked when I got the scope on it to find it wasn’t a caracara but my life Laughing Falcon. Get on that list!!

That afternoon, I scoped out some scrub near to the hotel. Lesser Ground Cuckoo was a target bird I really wanted to see, but they are renowned for being uber-skulky. Birding the forest edges around Playa Panama, I had a few usual species but had Rose-throated Becard, Ringed Kingfisher, Cinnamon Hummingbird and a calling Nutting’s Flycatcher. It was while i was  looking at these that I suddenly heard the mournful note of a calling Lesser Ground Cuckoo coming from nearby roadside. I ran up the hill to where the bird was calling from, but it was in deep and it looked like it was going to remain hidden. I tried playback and the bird kept calling but didn’t seem to be getting any closer. After about 15 minutes a second bird began to call on the opposite side. I was now “piggy-in-the-middle” between a lifer! A long 25 minutes went by, and with some judicious playback, I finally got both birds to come to the edge of the road. But could I see them. Could I bloody hell as like! It was becoming frustrating and as I bent down to change perspective, I was shocked to come face to face with the Ground Cuckoo sitting 6ft away calling from the bush. Amaaazzzing views!! What a crippler – one of the highlight birds of the trip!

Elusive and skulking, this Lesser Ground Cuckoo finally gave itself up!


14th March – Playa Panama and Catfish Farm Pool
The last morning was spent out at the wet ponds. En route I stopped at the area of forest on the outskirts of town adding my lifer Banded Wren, a typical bird of the NW area, several Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds, Brown-capped Flycatcher and Streaked Flycatcher.

Driving east past the Trancas farm fields, a lone raptor perched in a distant tree proved to be my only Zone-tailed Hawk of the trip. Similar species were seen at The Catfish poinds, and also present along with Summer Tanager, Black-throated trogon, Least Flycatcher, Laughing Falcon, Dickcissel, Turquoise-browed motmot were the usual two species of ducks!  A distant Roadside Hawk circled over the fields but little else new was noted.

Again, most of the day was spent relaxing and enjoying the peace and quiet of the hotel with Brown Booby and Magnificent Frigatebirds patrolling the ocean.

Ingrid finally relaxing in her element.

On returning to the hotel, several tiny Long-nosed Sac-winged Bats were found roosting on the tree by the reception desk – not sure of the species but they were only a few inches long!


15th March – Playa Panama
Back for a late breakfast, we packed up and made the long drive to Arenal. The first part of the trip gave Ingrid her “one job” back, but despite a false alarm posed by a Roadside hawk, we struck out again on Pearl Kite!!

The drive took us through rolling hills and some nice scenery before we climbed higher into the foothills on the west side of Lake Arenal. At this point, google maps advised us to take a left onto an unpaved road. A small sedan had gone ahead of us, but the route seemed wrong. Double-checking two apps, it seemed to be accurate. The main road continued like the curve of a horseshoe and this “short-cut” allowed us to cut off that loop. That’s why it was sending us that way. OK. That made sense (only to me). Let’s do this.

I put the car in gear and continued on, to which Ingrid anxiously questioned,“Whoa…what are you doing?”
She seemed to think it would be best to take the longer detour on a good road. The road was unpaved, with the camber dropping off sharply into small ditches on each side, but perfectly fine (In MY estimation). We seemed to be at a literal crossroads of disagreement. I said, “It’ll be fine”.

I took our dinky little Hyundai, that had no torque whatsoever, onwards along the pock-marked gravel road. We passed isolated small hamlets and chickens as we climbed higher into what seemed the middle of nowhere. I could sense Ingrid’s concern but even though I was deep in “birder driving” mentality, I considered my passenger, and offered, “We can turn around if you want? How far do we have left to go?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell on the map”, she retorted. We were halfway there, so I convinced her it was best to carry on. My “You should have been on some of the roads I’ve taken rental cars up in my birding trips” line didn’t reassure her too much!

Up, down and around we went – both in total silence . The small sedan in front of us, pulled over to the right on a steep incline but not quite far enough, making me move over to the left as much as I could so I could just squeak by on the left. As I did, I felt both my left wheels slide into the shale on the edge of the road and I felt the cars grip loosen and shift subtly towards the ditch. I was already in second because of the steep grade, so I eased gently on the accelerator to avoid scattering all the loose shale and continued on past him and upwards. Phew!

I had gone “all-in” with my “It’s fine, the road is not bad!” so I couldn’t back down now. The road got really pot-holey at one point, and the over-exaggerated sound of a big rock smashing into the bottom of the car made even me wince a bit. Then, there was that wonderful sight of the paved road rising up to meet us.  Gazing straight ahead, with a “I’m right” smile on my face, I said, “See, I told you, we’d be fine…well, maybe except for that one part back there. I really thought we were going to get stuck in that ditch! That was a bit scary.”

The road opened up to give amazing views of Lake Arenal.

Looking east over Lake Arenal. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

We arrived, without further incident at Arenal in the late afternoon. Brown Jays lined the road and a nice female Great Currasow spotted by Ingrid was only my second, but the best ever views. It had gotten a bit misty and a quick stop at the bridge before the lodge produced a first of the  trip Black Phoebe but not the Fasciated Tiger Heron often found here.

Arenal was stunning and impressive. We were going to have a good time here. Due to COVID-19 many cancellations had ensued, and we were given the chance to upgrade from a standard room to the Smithsonian Room, which we did. One whole side of the room was glass that looked out over lush cloud forest with uninterrupted views of the cloud-topped, Arenal volcano. Crowned Woodnymphs fed on the Coral flowers outside our room and then a family party of White-nosed Coatis surrounded us and began digging for ants.

Ingrid – happy with the view from the room!

Julian – also quite happy with the view from the room. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

White-nosed Coati – our garden pals

We were floored by the beauty of this place and I was happy that both Ingrid would get to celebrate her 50th birthday here.

We changed and headed up to the restaurant to partake in the happy hour. A group of Montezuma’s Oropendolas along with a couple of Green Honeycreepers and a male Great Currasow held court at the feeders.

Ingrid’s favorite – Green Honeycreeper

Montezuma’s Oropendola

We stood in silence, cocktails in hand, looking south towards the coast. As the sun set behind a glistening Lake Arenal, the clouds phased from shades of yellow, into mauve and purple. The vista was vast and spectacular, and we stood and watched in silence as the sun’s last rays set over the Pacific.

The expansive view from the Lodge deck. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

A stunning finale to the first day (Ingrid Ducmanis)

16th March- Arenal Observatory Lodge

Happy 50th Birthday Ingrid!!! Up early at 5:30 am and off down the waterfall trail. I thoughtfully placed a card by her phone, knowing she would wake up in her own time, but without me and I wanted the day to start of somewhat special.

It was a bit overcast and the air was filled with light, intermittent showers. The tree outside the reception was flowering and several birds were coming in and out. Summer Tanager, Stripe-breasted Flycatcher, Green and Red-legged Honeycreepers and Scarlet-rumped Tanagers all showed well.

Julian on the Spider bridge at Arenal. Ready to do some ticking! (Ingrid Ducmanis)

The gardens on the way were a prime site for Black-crested Coquette – one of my chief “must see” birds. I lingered here, distracted by the dogfighting of several hummingbirds, that included Violet-Headed, Rufous-tailed, Bronze-tailed Plumeleteer, Scaly-breasted, Green Thorntail, White-necked Jacobin, Blue-throated Goldentail and my only Brown Violetear of the trip.

The tiny Violet-headed Hummingbird

After 30 minutes, there it was. Black-crested Coquette, feeding in its characteristic “slow and smooth” hovering. What amazing birds. A female came in briefly, but despite nice views, they were hard to photograph. A quick walk around the Saino trail produced a staked out Great Potoo, only my second ever.

The amazing-its-real Black-crested Coquette

With that under the belt, I carried onwards to the waterfall trail. The viewing was difficult – dark cloud forest, thick tangles all made for dark silhouettes flitting back and forth. A small wave of birds was evident, the buzzy sounds of tanagers rocketing up the slope, wrens singing, but nothing was showing well. Then, three Russet Ant-shrikes, Buff-throated Foliage Gleaner, Spotted Woodcreeper, several Carmisol’s Tanagers, Streak-crowned Ant Vireo and then, flitting about in the leaf litter, was the unmistakable blue orbital ring of a Song Wren! Excellent.

Another of Ingrid’s amazing flower shots-reminds me of a Phoenix rising up. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

Ingrid – doing her thang!

I spent the rest of the day birding on and off, notching up Rufous Motmot, my first Golden-winged Warbler in a decade, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Slaty-tailed Trogon, Black-cheeked Woodpecker, White-crowned Parrot, Stripe-breasted Wren, and Pale-vented Pigeon. I again paid a visit to the Waterfall trail again in the afternoon, but it was rather quiet except for Golden Hooded, Emerald and Bay-headed Tanagers feeding in a flowering tree and a brief, calling Collared Trogon. Wedge-billed Woodcreeper and Slaty-capped Flycatcher and a nice look at a posse of Spider Monkeys with baby in tow rounded out the day.

Nice looks at a Spider Monkey troupe.

On the way back, a small pod of White-collared Swifts rocketed over and a small warbler in the pines by the reception turned out to be a female Cape May Warbler – a species scarce at Arenal.

We had another great dinner at the restaurant to celebrate Ingrid’s 50th birthday, again under a beautiful sunset and under the shadow of Arenal volcano.

Birthday dinner with my lovely lady at Arenal!


17th March – Arenal

The last morning! I was up again early to make the most of it. A dreary day made for a lot of silhouettes skulking in the trees and the distant calling of the impossible-to-see Thicket Antpitta. Buff-rumped Warblers, Golden-crowned Warblers and as lone Louisana Waterthrush flitted along in the gloom on the path ahead of me. Keel-billed and Yellow-throated Toucans and Hepatic Tanagers were seen. Black-crested Coquette showed well and overall it was a quiet morning. A leisurely breakfast ensued, and we packed our gear, opting to take advantage of a late checkout. During this time, I noticed some activity in the trees below our room. Orange-bellied Trogon, Least Flycatcher, Green Hermit, Gartered Trogon, Piratic Flycatcher, Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher, Rufous Mourner, Lesser Greenlet, Tawny-crowned Euphonia, Buff-throated Saltator, Band-backed Wren, Great Currasow and a few Golden-hooded Tanagers were evident but quickly and frustratingly moved away and out of view.

At about 11am, I asked Ingrid if she’d take a walk with me along the trails. This proved a good move. I asked an older couple if there was “owt about?” expecting to be told “nothing unusual”, they responded in an animated fashion, “Oh..yes! We just had a tremendous experience with some birds at the ant swarm down the trail!” What the bloody what???!!! Ant swarm??!!!  Panicked, I asked which way and how long ago. She replied, “Oh, only about 5 minutes ago”.

I basically dragged Ingrid by the hand in the direction, and within a minute we came across a “beehive” of ants, with attending Bi-colored Antbirds basically feeding on the path in full view. Spotted Antbirds appeared quickly, but I knew this was the chance for the big one – the one that had eluded me on previous trips. And then, almost as I thought it, an Ocellated Antbird, complete with bright blue facial skin and brown back, was filling my bins!! Yess!

Bi-colored Antbirds showed no fear

Ocellated Antbird – the holy grail of antbirds!

A female Great Antshrike appeared but kept low and at the back, not venturing out to the forest edge. We watched in amazement as these seldom-seen birds showed amazingly at our feet. We had gotten lucky. With all the numerous trails, coming upon an ant swarm was not expected on such a short stay. Seeing these species generally would have been impossible.

We packed up and headed south, stopping to tick off Green Kingfisher on a river crossing but again failing to connect with Fasciated Tiger Heron.

We drove down RT 126 towards are evening destination of San Jose. The road runs down the west side of a stunning and deep valley, completely covered in prime forest habitat, complete with stunning waterfalls. Our mid-day stop was at the Mirador café at Cinchona known locally as Colibri Café.

We arrived late afternoon and had the deck to ourselves. It looked out over the steep and lush valley and provided a spectacular backdrop to the feeders and various hummingbirds coming to visit. The owners have kindly stocked these feeders and birders are urged to patronize the place to give a little back. We ordered a Casado lunch of rice, beans and plantains and a salad. It was hard to concentrate on eating with hummingbirds whizzing by your heads within inches.

The stunning view from the Mirador Cinchona. (Ingrid Ducmanis)

Our main stop here was to try for Buff-fronted Quail Dove and Black-bellied Hummingbird – both scarce and hard to find species. White-bellied Mountain Gem also occasionally shows up here, but again, being a scarce and uncommon species I didn’t expect to see one.

The light under the roof rendered a lot of the hummingbirds hard to assess, a lot of them were backlit or in shadow – tough when you are looking for a species with an actual black belly. A couple of the species were new for the trip – Coppery-headed Emerald, Purple-throated Mountain Gem, Green-crowned Brilliant and Violet Sabrewing.

The large and stunning Violet Sabrewing glistened in the shadows.

Coppery-headed Emeralds, like Black-bellied, have white tail sides, so it took a while to get my eye in and note their small, compact size and down curved bill. Between eyeing the amazing Blue-throated Toucanet and Silver-throated Tanagers feeding on the remaining vestiges of fruit, and my only Tennessee Warbler of the trip, I was eagerly trying to sort through 20 or so hummingbirds zipping about, looking for “the one” when…BOOM! There it was! Black-bellied Hummingbird – straight bill, black belly and little chestnut epaulettes. Get on the list!  Getting up to peek over the railing onto the path below the deck I was shocked to see a lone Buff-fronted Quail Dove, nonchalantly walking around in the open instead of skulking in deep, dark forest understorey. BOOM#2!

We finished out lunch, and Ingrid was a trooper, letting me hang-out and bird for a while. I headed for the bathroom, and turned to Ingrid and said, “All I need now, when I come back, is the White-bellied Mountain Gem, and I’ll have a trifecta!”

As I walked back from the restroom, I heard a loud, repetitive and unusual “chip” coming from a hummingbird on the first feeder on my left.  Raising my bins towards the unusual sound,  I was gob-smacked to see a White-bellied Mountain Gem filling my retinas.

“Bloody Hell!! Ingrid, that’s It!! White-bellied Mountain Gem! The big one on this feeder!!!

White-bellied Mountain gem

I couldn’t believe it. It allowed a few pics before disappearing into the surrounding trees. BOOM#3!

Julian more than happy with a trifecta of grippers during lunch! (Ingrid Ducmanis)

Totally satisfied, we paid, left a donation for the feed and headed south.

The scenery was spectacular. We stopped at the next bridge to the south that was flanked by a stunning waterfall, to check for Green-fronted Lancebill, another uncommon river-loving hummingbird, but struck out.

Waterfall mania!

White-collared Swifts hawked the valley, but little else was seen.

A hulking White-collared Swift

We arrived at Villas Ignacio, just north of the airport by nightfall – a great little spot close to the airport. I downed a couple of Margaritas and had a brief foray around the grounds, hearing a brief, distant and uncooperative Mottled Owl – another nemesis bird.


18th March – San Jose -Newark
We returned the car early doors, and flew back to Newark, without incident to the COVID-19 chaos that was unfolding in the US and the rest of the world – cancelled flights, closed borders and travel restrictions.

Had we scheduled this a few days later, we would likely have cancelled, but we managed to squeak this trip in. And what an amazing and enjoyable experience it was!! Despite this being a short trip with Ingrid with the intention of being a 50th Birthday trip, I still managed to amass 201 species in a week. Ingrid had a great time and celebrated her milestone in style. I know, based on her feelings about Costa Rica, we’ll be back sooner rather than later!

Steve Bird and Gina Nichol, Sarah Dzielski, Dani Lopez Velasco, Jim Zipp, Tom Johnson, Vince Elia, Anthony Arce, Alec Humann and Pat ‘O Donnell all provided intel and I am very grateful to Pat in particular for fielding incessant questions about certain spots and species. All helped optimize my birding. And to Ingrid for allowing me the time and space to lose myself in my passion. Thank you!