The 2023 Brazil Journals, Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

Royalty in the Rainforest

 

Destroying rainforest for economic gain is like burning 

a Renaissance painting to cook a meal.”

Edward O. Wilson 

 

 

 

Sergio waves us over to some photographs on the wall in the lodge.   They are all of birds and they are all his photos.   He asks us which bird we would like to see.

 

Shelly points to a toucanet and says her hope for this trip is to see toucans and toucanets.   

 

My eyes stop immediately on a little brown bird that would be nondescript were it not for flaming red feathers spread like a fan across the top of its head.  “That one,” I say.

 

“We will visit her this afternoon,” says Sergio, sounding pleased with my choice.   “Right now there are five people with her.”

 

So, we go to the deck where the feeders are and I revel in the variety of species that either come to the feeders or hang around with other birds.

One of the most noticeable birds at the feeders is the red-rumped cacique.  This large, black bird with a stunning ivory-colored bill exhibits a scarlet rump patch that's visible only when it  flies and that isn't easy to catch.   Here, one of the left is peeking into its nest.

 

Bananas.   More bananas.   Crates of bananas.  Unlimited bananas.   A storage warehouse full of bananas.

 

Trilha dos Turcanos has them and distributes them daily in large measure.  The tropical birds that visit the feeders on the deck of the main lodge and crazy for the soft yellow fruit.

Sparrow

Back-lit squirrel eating sunflower seeds.

Golden-chevroned tanager.

A female yellow-fronted woodpecker.

Parakeets.

 

Big and little, male and female, they love bananas.

 

And so, we spent a lot of time on that deck with little green parakeets crawling on our arms and hands.   They weren’t after bananas exclusively.  Those messy things were in the nearby feeders.   These little parrots were eating sunflower seeds from our hands.

Laura and parakeets

 

Even Laura, not especially a bird enthusiast, held out her hands for the parakeets.

 

Eventually, Sergio rounds us up and we squeeze into his little car.   He drives down a dirt road perhaps a quarter mile and drops us off.  Then, he leads us on a trail into the rainforest alongside a narrow, shallow creek.

A piece of the trail is at far right.

Virginia on the trail

 

The light is dappled and sometimes it’s hard to see my footing.   There is evidence that vegetation was recently cleared and make-shift steps hacked into the mud, dirt, and rock.

 

After a couple hundred feet, we emerge into a small clearing where the creek makes a left bend and seat ourselves on small green plastic chairs.   Sergio points out the nest of the bird we are here to see.   

 

It hangs over the creek like a weaver’s nest and is difficult to see unless you’re in the right spot.   

 

I wait and soak in the sounds of the rainforest.  

The flycatcher's habitat.   When she appears, she lands on the vine that is horizontal in the photo.

 

Then, there she is!   

 

Perched on a mossy vine that reaches across the creek, there’s the Atlantic Royal Flycatcher.   Shutters rat-a-tat as we burst photo the tiny bird.   Well, in truth, my shutter does but the other gals' cameras have silent shutters.

 

I stop to review the photos on my camera when she leaves and I am astonished at how beautiful she is.  

The Atlantic Royal flycatcher, my favorite bird of the trip.

 

Brown with buff underparts and with a cinnamon rump and tail, she is a bit over six inches long.  She has sharp black eyes and rictus bristles around her bill.

 

On top her head, I see bits of the crest for which these birds are famous, red/orange and bits of blue/black that fan sideways cross their heads    The crest is rarely seen, explains Sergio, except when a mated pair greets each other.

 

The Atlantic Royal Flycatcher.

That is why we spend many hours with this patient little bird over the three days we are here, but though we hear a male, it never approaches.

 

“In a bar watching football and drinking beer while she builds the nest,” I say.

A large piece of nesting material.

Highly cropped to show the rictus bristles around the bill.   Many studies have been done but there is no consensus as to their function.

I love the way the sun beams highlight the flycatcher.

The flycatcher with a bit of nesting material.

 

We hear warblers and other birds and catch glimpses but never get a lens on them.

 

It’s cool here in the rainforest and I have "come into the peace of wild things."*

 

 

 

The canopy.

Virginia on the trail

Sergio on the trail.

* from Wendell Berry's "The Peace of Wild Things."

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.