23 November, 2023Ciénaga de Zapata - Playa Larga It has been our practice in the past to travel to Santo Tomás to board small boats to enter the magical world of this vast wetland; on this occasion, however,...
23 November, 2023
Ciénaga de Zapata - Playa Larga
It has been our practice in the past to travel to Santo Tomás to board small boats to enter the magical world of this vast wetland; on this occasion, however, our plans were stymied. The area was under a considerable depth of water, and we would have had to wade in - not even an option for pampered North American birders.
All was not lost, however. We were able to reconnoiter with "jeeps" to carry us into a different part of the swamp. Here was our trusty charabanc; it served us well.
Now that's ingenuity!
And the birds cooperated. The two signature birds, the primary object of our quest, are Zapata Wren (Ferminia cerverai) and Zapata Sparrow (Torreornis inexpectata) and Brian managed excellent pictures of both of them.
Zapata Wren
Zapata Sparrow
All of this was accomplished without trying to hold the camera steady in a rocking boat, simultaneously keeping it pointed at a flitting bird.
A Cuban Pewee (Contopus caribaeus) seemed anxious to join the photo gallery too.
Tawny-shouldered Blackbird (Agelaius humeralis) is widespread across much of Cuba, often found in wetlands and moist woodlands.
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I was delighted to see this fine specimen of Historis odius odius, a representative of Cecropians and Allies, and entirely new to me.
Any time a Cuban Tody (Todus multicolor) decides to put in an appearance is a cause for celebration.
We mounted a long and determined search for Ruddy Quail Dove (Geotrygon montana) and Grey-headed Quail Dove (Geotrygon caniceps), failing to locate them.
Tania commented that it is becoming ever more difficult to find these shy and reclusive birds, possibly indicating declining populations.
We made our way back to Playa Larga for lunch, taken as usual at an appealing small restaurant at the Bay of Pigs, following which we dispersed to our separate accommodations to enjoy a siesta until mid afternoon - all very civilized, I must say.
At around 15h:30 we made our way to Casa Ana's Birding for the chance to encounter that most magical and enigmatic of species, the Bee Hummingbird (Mellisuga hellenae), one of the holiest of holy grails for the worldwide birding fraternity.
Just follow Tania's finger.
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What a beauty!
This one has attitude it seems!
The other Cuban endemic hummingbird, Cuban Emerald (Chlorostilbon ricordii) was also well represented in the garden.
A Black-throated Blue Warbler (Setophaga caerulescens) was not reluctant to indulge its taste for sugar water.
And take a well-earned rest afterwards.
A West Indian Woodpecker (Melanerpes superciliaris) proved to be quite an acrobat.
At the edge of a small pond at the back of the garden a Yellow-crowned Night Heron (Nyctanassa violacea) was content to watch the world go by.
The syringe, put to good use as dispenser for sugar water, received attention from many species, Bee Hummingbird included of course.
As we walked back "home" a Cuban Crow (Corvus nasicus) kept a watchful eye on us.
Dinner, always a splendid affair, was enlivened by the presence of a small Cuban band, highly professional, with a wonderful level of musicality and command of rhythm; with a female lead singer with an alto voice as smooth as silk.
Trevor wasted no time in leading Mariana to the floor.
Brian, all dressed up for the dance, was equally quick to claim Tania as his partner.
Tania has rhythm; I am quite sure she was born with it, and she showed us her moves.
Karl was content to sit and watch it all from the sidelines, but I know his toes were tapping.
The ladies put on quite a show.
Mariana had perhaps worn Trevor out, but he was refuelling with a glass of wine.
Sooner or later, in one way or another, everyone got into the spirit of things.
Do you get the idea that Andrew and Lorraine enjoyed the band?
It was just another great day in Cuba, a day of good birds, friendship, camaraderie, exciting music, joie de vivre and a real sense that, at least for an hour or two, all was well with the world.
And there's more to come tomorrow!
TRIVIA
I am a great admirer of Alexander Skutch, for me the greatest field naturalist ever, and I now have most of the books he ever wrote, all memorable works of ornithological excellence; some are landmarks in the progression of knowledge.
At our naturalists club, at every meeting, people are invited to set out books and other items they no longer need, to be picked up by others who might be able to use them.
Imagine my delight, therefore, when the above volume was on the table, a book long out of print, and a gap in my Skutch collection.
I have just finished reading it, and the following excerpt, written when Skutch was living in Costa Rica in 1948 going through a savage civil war, is a chilling reminder of what is taking place today.
"I have been under the impression that our life here this last month has been somewhat abnormal, but, upon second thought, it occurs to me that since the revolution broke out we have been living the life that has become normal and usual for people of the twentieth century, as it was for people of the tenth; a life of warfare and violence and civic strife and insecurity of life and property.
No matter where one dwells, he can hardly escape it these days. These are signs of the decline of Western civilization - of a civilization based on technical skill that outruns moral competence, and the enfranchisement of great masses of people so deficient in education that they cannot understand the basic issues of their times, and are plastic in the hands of demagogues."
(Emphasis mine).
Little wonder evil politicians love the poorly educated. The warning signs are there today; whether we will heed them or not is another matter entirely.
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