Female crimson-crested woodpecker from behind (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
From behind this bird looks a lot like a pileated woodpecker, but when you see its face and belly you know it’s something different.
Crimson-crested woodpecker (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
Female crimson-crested woodpeckers (above) aren’t as colorful as the males.
Male crimson-crested woodpecker (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
Native to Panama and northern South America, the crimson-crested woodpecker (Campephilus melanoleucos) resembles a pileated woodpecker but its closest North American relative is the ivory-billed woodpecker (Campephilus principalis), a probably-extinct bird that was reported once in Arkansas in 2004 but never seen again.
It’s like a bird from home, but not the one we thought.
(photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the images to see the originals)
Purple-throated fruitcrow, Panama (photo by Patty McGann via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
On a birding trip to Panama, coming home:
As I mentioned yesterday there are no crows in Panama but this bird tries to fill the gap. He’s black like a crow, he acts like a crow, and he’s named like a crow but he isn’t a crow. So what is he?
The purple-throated fruitcrow (Querula purpurata) is a member of the Cotinga family but he doesn’t act like one. Many cotingas are solitary in their habits and secretive when they nest but purple-throated fruitcrows hang out with 3 – 8 members of their family and friends.
And they are loud!
(Xeno-canto: purple-throated fruitcrows, XC347621, by Fernando Igor de Godoy, Brazil)
They build their conspicuous nests in trees and breed cooperatively. Everyone helps tend the eggs and chicks and all that activity makes the nest more obvious. Somehow it works.
There are two more oddities associated with his name. He’s called purple-throated but in bright light the male’s throat looks red. What does he use his throat for? Click here to see.
Purple-throated fruitcrow, National Aviary (photo by Dick Daniels via Wikimedia Commons)
And finally he’s called a “fruit” crow but he eats mostly insects.
Though he’s full of surprises, he’s not a crow.
(top photo by Patty McGann on Flickr, Creative Commons license. closeup by Dick Daniels via Wikimedia Commons. Click on the images to see the originals)
Wattled jacana alighting, composite Pantanal Brazil (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
On a birding trip to Panama:
The wattled jacana looks pretty strange but that’s only the beginning.
Though related to shorebirds Jacana jacana has a wattle on his face like a chicken, and very long toes that are longer than his ‘nose’ (beak).
His toes are long because he spends his life walking on floating vegetation, a habit that’s given him the nickname “lily-trotter.” When his footing is submerged he looks like he’s walking on water.
The jacana’s social life is even stranger. Like a phalarope, a female jacana mates with multiple males and never takes care of her young. She lays four eggs in a floating nest but it’s up to one of her mates to incubate the eggs and protect the young after they hatch.
Weirdest of all, the father bird doesn’t incubate by placing his belly against the eggs. Instead he puts two eggs under each wing and keeps them warm against his body.
Later, when the newly hatched chicks are too small to walk alone, he tucks the chicks under his wings and walks away with them. Their little legs dangle beneath his wings. Click here and look closely at the photo to see what I mean.
Female wattled jacanas are larger than males but the birds otherwise look alike. How do you identify a male wattled jacana? Because he’s babysitting.
Here’s a father with a chick in the background. If you can’t see the chick, click on the photo to see the original that has a box around the chick.
Wattled jacana with young, Venezuela (photo by Gregory ‘Slobirdr’ Smith via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Native to Panama and South America, the wattled jacana is strange in many ways.
(photo at top from Wikimedia Commons; click on the image to see the original. Wattled jacana with chick by Gregory ‘Slobirdr’ Smith via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Blue cotinga seen from Discovery Canopy Tower, 2012 (photo by Patty McGann via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
On a birding trip to Panama:
When I visited Costa Rica in 2017 the hardest bird to find was the turquoise cotinga (Cotinga ridgwayi). We checked every “umbrella tree” on our way to San Vito until our guide, Roger Melendez, found a family of three for us to view. What a thrill!
Based on that experience I thought that all cotingas were hard to find — and they are — but at Canopy Tower we have an advantage. We’re perched where the birds are.
The Canopy Tower was built as a radar installation so the roof deck is above the trees and the windows on each floor look into the forest at different heights. We’re at eye level with the birds.
The Canopy Tower, Panama (photo from the Canopy Tower website)
This is an advantage when it comes to cotingas who perch high to show off their flashy feathers in the sun.
There aren’t any turquoise cotingas in this part of Panama but there are blue ones — literally blue cotingas (Cotinga nattererii). Shall we look for them in Cecropias and other umbrella-shaped trees?
Yes. Here’s one! (I don’t think this is a Cecropia tree but I don’t know what it is.)
Blue cotinga in an “umbrella” tree (photo by Billtacular via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
View of Panama Rainforest Discovery Center Tower (photo from the pipelineroad.org website)
I have since learned that turquoise cotingas really are rare. Endemic to a small region and with a small population, they’re considered Vulnerable by the IUCN. Blue cotingas are more plentiful with a wider range that extends from Panama to Ecuador. In any case it’s a treat to see them.
p.s. Yesterday we saw two members of the Cotinga family along Pipeline Road: purple-throated fruitcrow and rufous piha. Is there a blue cotinga in my future?
Day 4: Canopy Tower, Plantation Road, Summit Ponds, night tour
King vulture, pivoting on foot (photo by April M. King via Wikimedia Commons)
On a birding trip to Panama:
In the skies over Central and South America you may see The King soaring overhead.
As large as a bald eagle, the king vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) can weigh up to 10 pounds with a wingspan seven feet long.
From below he’s unmistakable — all white with black flight feathers, a black tail and a dot for his head. His head looks small because he’s bald.
King vulture in flight (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
If he came in for a landing you’d see that his bare skin is colorful — yellow, red and orange.
King vulture in flight (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
Though the king vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) is related to condors and our familiar turkey and black vultures, he’s the only surviving member of his genus. His last name, papa, is Latin for pope and was chosen because his white and black feathers resemble a pope’s vestments.
King vulture at National Zoo in DC (photo via Wikimedia Commons)
No matter his title, king or pope, the King is in charge at the dinner table. His powerful beak tears open carcasses. When he arrives on the scene other vultures move away.
Like royalty, the King eats first. When he’s finished everyone else can dine.
(photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the images to see the originals)
Day 3: Pipeline Road on the border of the Soberania National Park
Rufous-crested coquette (photo by Franceso Veronesi via Wikimedia Commons)
On a birding trip to Panama:
Near the Canopy Tower there are more than two dozen species of hummingbirds but that’s not what most of them are called. Their fanciful names include mangos, plumeleteers, hermits, woodnymphs, emeralds, fairies and coquettes. Here are just a few of the brilliant gems with odd names.
The rufous-crested coquette (Lophornis delattrei), above, seems to be named for a woman who flirts but that is not the case. His flamboyant reddish crest reminded someone of a rooster so he’s a “tiny rooster.” The cock or “coq” became “coquette.”
Female black-throated mango, Panama (photo by vil.sandi via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
When it comes to “plumeleteer” I can only guess how the name began. A plumelet is a small feather, so if an auctioneer is a person concerned with auctions, then a plumeleteer is a bird concerned with small feathers. There are only two species in the plumeleteer genus Chalybura. Both occur in Panama. Here’s the white-vented plumeleteer (Chalybura buffonii).
White-vented plumeleteer, Pipeline Road, Panama (photo by Billtacular via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
According to Dr. Alexander Skutch, hermit hummingbirds are named for their brownish color, not their social habits. They are brown because they live in deep shade in the tropical forest. Here’s a long-billed hermit (Phaethornis longirostris).
Long-billed hermit, Costa Rica (photo by Juan Zamora via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
And finally, it doesn’t take much imagination to guess why a hummingbird would be called a wood nymph. Here’s the crowned woodnymph (Thalurania colombica), photographed at Canopy Tower’s sister location, the Canopy Lodge.
Crowned woodnymph, Canopy Lodge, Panama (photo by Wendy R. Fredericks via Flickr, Creative Commons license)
Keel-billed toucan in Ancon, Panama (photo by Billtacular on Flickr, Creative Commons license)
On a birding trip to Panama:
This morning nine friends and I are on our way to a week-long birding trip at the Canopy Tower in Panama. I’m sure to see many Life Birds including this colorful resident with blue feet, the keel-billed toucan (Ramphastos sulfuratus).
Panama is best known for the Canal that links the Atlantic and Pacific oceans but there’s a lot more to it than that. Directly south of Pennsylvania, it’s the narrow land bridge that links North and South America though the country itself runs east-to-west.
Smaller than South Carolina, Panama hosts a population of 4 million people and 987 species of birds. Its biodiversity comes from its location as the crossover zone where north meets south, and its elevation change of 11,400 feet from the mountains to the sea.
Map of Canopy Tower visit, 19-26 March 2018 (from the Canopy Tower)
The Canopy Tower is well situated to see a rich variety of birds, butterflies, mammals and plants. Located on the Pacific (southern) side of the country near Panama City the tower was built in 1965 for communications, air traffic control, and defense of the Panama Canal (the Panama Canal Zone was a U.S. territory until 1979). The FAA and the Panama Canal Commission abandoned it 30 years later but Raúl Arias de Para had a better idea. The tower is so tall that you can see above the canopy of trees. And that’s where the birds are. In January 1999 he made it a birding destination.
The checklist for our short trip contains more than 470 species of birds. I can hardly wait! Here’s a preview.
Video of Canopy Tower 2017 courtesy of Victor Castroverde.
I’ll be too busy to blog at the Canopy Tower so I’ve left my laptop at home and written all 7 days of articles in advance. I’ll check my blog once a day but I won’t login to Facebook. (Note! As always, if you want to reach me the best way to do it is to leave a comment on my blog.)
This week I’m mostly off the grid while my husband holds down the fort at home. I’ll see you when I return to my computer on Monday morning, March 26.
(photo and maps from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the images to see the originals.)
Day 1: Fly to Panama City. Birding at the Canopy Tower and Gamboa.
One of the cool things about visiting California in January was seeing hummingbirds in the winter. On field trips near Chico I saw Anna’s hummingbirds flash their red faces in the sun.
Anna’s hummingbird (Calypte anna) is found year round in many parts of California. The rainy season triggers breeding so they nest from December to May. Though there’s snow on the mountains in January, the manzanita that blooms at lower elevations attracts these tiny birds.
Often an Anna’s will stake out a bush, watching and waiting to chase off other hummingbirds. His forehead, face and gorget flash a warning red, “This is mine! Stay away!”
Bushtits (photo by Melissa McMasters via Wikimedia Commons)
This tiny bird is the only member of its family (Aegithalidae) in the Americas. Smaller than a warbler, the bushtit’s closest relatives live in Eurasia.
Bushtits (Psaltriparus minimus) are western birds that tend to stay put, though some move downslope for the winter. At this time of year they flock like chickadees, flitting, chattering and hanging upside down to glean insects and spiders from the trees.
When I saw them in California my first thought was “brown chickadees.” This closer look shows why.
Bushtit (photo by Alan Vernon via Wikimedia Commons)
In February the flocks break up into pairs and the couples spend four+ weeks weaving a foot-long tubular nest like the one shown below. With a hooded entrance at the top, it is far larger than one bird needs but is big enough to hold the whole family and their friends on cold nights.
Bushtit nest (photo from Wikimedia Commons)
Listen for bushtits calling as they follow each other from tree to tree. (recording of American Bushtit by Kristie Nelson, xeno-canto XC363349)
So tiny! They are smaller than kinglets.
(photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the images to see the originals. Audio from Xeno-Canto XC363349 by Kristie Nelson)
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