Highway birding

[Sorry for the delay in posting my Guyana pictures/diary. Internet connections here are very slow and uploading even small picture files is problematic.]

For those of us who live in the busy parts of the world (particularly the crowded northeastern corner of the US), it's hard to imagine standing for long in the middle of a country's main north-south highway without being squashed flat. But here in Guyana, where the "highway" is a twisting, potholed ribbon of mud (on wet days) or iron hard earth (on dry ones), it's possible to wander for hours without seeing a single vehicle.

These butterflies were clustered along the road, slurping some mineral from a damp patch of soil.

Harpy

[Sorry for the delay in posting my Guyana pictures/diary. Internet connections here are very slow and uploading even small picture files is problematic.]

Ask 100 birders which Neotropical bird they'd most like to see, and I'll bet that a substantial number of them would quickly say "Harpy Eagle". This huge bird of prey is almost mythical -- wary, rare and declining, and generally restricted to the most remote parts of remaining pristine rainforest. And yet, sometimes you just get lucky. Today was one of those days. While bouncing along the narrow, muddy, potholed main "highway" between Lethem and Georgetown, we happened across this majestic sight -- an adult Harpy with the bloody remains of a Hoffmann's Two-toed Sloth clutched in its talons. For 30 minutes, we watched as it tried to eat while being dive-bombed by a trio of very fired-up Red-throated Caracaras. It ducked, it dived, it panted, it raised its impressive crest feathers, it tried a couple of different perches, and finally it flew off with the coterie of screaming caracaras right behind. And there were high fives all around. What an awesome bird!

A day in the Rupununi

The Rupununi Savanna is a sprawling, 5000-square-mile expanse in the southwestern corner of Guyana. Most of it is grassland, dried and weatherbeaten at this time of year, lush and green (reportedly) during the summer rainy season. Islands of gallery forest dot the flat plains, and there are traces everywhere of wet season watercourses. Cracked mud crunches underfoot when you walk across now-dry ponds, shorebirds and ducks cluster in remnant pools full of water hyacinth, and islands of gallery forest stand green and lush in low spots and depressions all across the landscape. We're in the very northern part of the savanna, so we can see the ringing hills and mountains, hazy in the distance. After a morning wandering across the sere landscape, we spent another afternoon along the Rupununi River, the main waterway (and highway) through much of the savanna.

A pair of Jabiru, huge "man-sized" storks (as a friend always referred to them), stand atop their sizable nest in one of the savanna's wet spots.

A Cocoi Heron along the Rupununi River.

Dusk along a bend in the river.

On the river

Nothing beats flying in a small plane. Somehow, it feels like you're in a living thing; it dances under you like a restive horse, bowing and coquetting with each gust of wind. We rode a little Caravan on our journey south to the Karanambu airstrip, and the storms around Georgetown meant there were plenty of towering clouds to admire as we climbed from rain into sun.

As Han Solo said about the Millennium Falcon in Star Wars, "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts." The Caravan may be small, but it's comfortable, and got us here.

An afternoon and evening along the Rupununi River gave us some fine scenery to enjoy -- as well as plenty of new birds and a staggering number of Black Caiman. This endangered alligator species is making a good comeback in Guyana.

I have always loved the play of darkened vegetation against a sunset sky.

Mahaica River

Today we arose before dawn and journeyed southeastward on a narrow two-lane highway hugging Guyana's coastline. Our destination was the Mahaica River, one of the country's smaller drainages. Narrow and placid, it flows through scattered small farms, lined with rice fields and edged with the tangled scrubby vegetation that Guyana's national bird, the bizarre, primitive Hoatzin, favors. Unfortunately, the rain was steady and unrelenting through much of the morning.

Our boatman, Narish, is a farmer along the Mahaica. He loves the Hoatzins, and works to convince his neighbors to maintain some habitat for them.

This Limpkin truly was limping; it only appeared to have one working leg. The injury didn't seem to be hindering it much, as it was still pulling earthworms from this wet field with surprising frequency.

An afternoon visit to Georgetown's botanical gardens brought views of a tree full of courting Great Egrets. Those spectacular plumes almost led to the species' demise in the early part of the last century, when it became fashionable to decorate women's hats with feathers. Whole colonies were destroyed for the millinery trade.

Georgetown

Georgetown, Guyana is a bustling metropolis, and our hotel sits at a busy intersection along one of the main roads through town. All day -- and much of the night -- the traffic hurtles past, a constant stream of taxis, minibuses and the occasional horse-drawn cart. And yet, despite all the hustle and commotion, a host of birds uses the shallow channelized river that runs between the lanes of the highway, and the narrow strips of grass that edge the road. There are two baby Striated Herons, their plumage still studded with wispy down feathers, huddled on a branch right across from my balcony. At least four Snail Kites are visiting the canal, flying off with snails clutched in their sharp beaks, then returning for another mouthful. Pairs of Orange-winged Parrots are shrieking overhead, and nearly every television antenna sports a Great Kiskadee or two. We've counted 20 species from the hotel; we daren't venture further under orders from our local guide.

Looking east along Croal Street. There are no buildings higher than ten stories here because of a thick clay layer that makes it difficult to drive footings deep enough to support anything taller.

A young Snail Kite waits its turn at the canal.

This Gray-lined Hawk was hunting in the backyards across the street.

Miami

Another day, another airport. This time, it's Miami International, waiting for my flight to Georgetown, Guyana. It's interesting how even in these obviously manmade spaces, the experts use nature (or at least a facsimile thereof) to help keep people calm. Too bad a lot of it here was plastic. But at least the space was nice. And the stromboli and beer were excellent!