Bananquit

 

Bananaquits are small tanagers found from Mexico and the Bahamas south through the Antilles and Central America to much of northern South America. Bananaquits were once classified as Honeyeaters, but this family proved genetically to be a collection of unrelated species. Across this large range, their plumages are highly variable—41 races are described (Handbook of Birds of the World).

They are primarily necter-feeders, but will also consume fruits and insects. They are not birds of heavy forest, preferring shrubby forest borders. They probe their bills, hummingbird-style, into flowers. Sometimes they pierce the flower bases in search of nectar. They are easily attracted to bowls of sugar or to hummingbird feeders, where they can become both bold and tame. Such was the case at the Hummingbird Gallery cafe near Monteverde, Costa Rica, which we visited on 5 July 2017.

Review: Birding without Borders

Birding Without Borders. Noah Strycker. 2017. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing: New York. 326 pp. Hardcover and digital formats. $27.00 Hardcover (but note link above).

The book begins with a forward by Kenn Kaufmann and continues with an attempt to justify extreme birding—breaking the world record for seeing more birds than anyone else in one year. No such justification of expense and consumption of fossil fuel (contributions to a carbon-offset program or not) can be made. This story is really a description of a man on a personal, obsessive quest. Such quests, however, make for good reading—especially for anyone interested in birding. Strycker quit his job, broke up with his girlfriend, and depleted his savings. Strycker enjoyed an advance from his publisher, corporate sponsorships and the hospitality of hundreds of birders around the world—he spent “about $60,000 on travel, lodging, food guiding, [and] gear” —a cost of about ten dollars per bird.

His gear list is actually one of the more interesting features of his book. Also fascinating is his itinerary. He begins in Antarctica—an odd choice given the relative paucity of bird life there. He then works his way up most of South America, stops in Jamaica, and continues through Central America and Mexico. He only visits five US states (taking about ten days)—Texas, Arizona, California, Oregon, and New York. Then it’s off to Iceland and Norway. He goes to Spain by way of Turkey. Single species are added in France and Germany. Strycker must be bored by European birds, because they are almost completely left out of the book. He then crisscrosses Africa. Arabia and India are next, followed by Southeast Asia and China. He then does Australia and New Zealand, finally returning to India.

He checks off 6,042 bird species. Only a fraction of these are discussed in his book. The book is surprisingly sparsely illustrated. A photo section only includes nine birds! The most interesting photo is a selfie of Strycker standing next to the bird identification guides that he digitized to download to his laptop. One assumes such an endeavor is compliant with copyright laws.

Strycker writes well (although I am surprised by a trend by his editors to incorrectly use the words “I” and “me.”) His prose does, however, occasionally wander. He takes almost ten pages to get to his first bird sighting. Do we really need to know the American Birding Association’s birding rules or that some birders cheat? (I wonder if Strycker’s capturing a Common Poorwill qualifies as a bird seen under ABA rules.) I can’t say that I needed to read so much about Strycker’s angst over birding as a competitive sport. Strycker might have quoted Pete Dunn that beginners may occasionally misidentify birds, but experts have misidentified thousands. Can you count species you only hear?  Strycker counted just over 5% of his birds by sound alone. What constitutes a bird species, anyway? Can you list species that someone else sees and identifies?

Strycker relied on local birders as guides. Locals often know a region better than professional international guides and can protect birders from bandits or corrupt officials. Local guides usually come free of charge. We are told tidbits about these people, but we learn very little about them. We also get glimpses of some of the environmental problems in places Strycker visits. One chapter covers a very brief history of American birding and Big Years. These subjects are all well and good, but I was left feeling they took the place of more discourse about or images of the birds Strycker saw.

Overall, Birding Without Borders is well-written and one of the best books of this genre.  High points include his account of seeing a Harpy Eagle—the raptor and its ecology are entertainingly described. I wish he devoted more to other species he listed. I could have lived without as much minutia as he sometimes writes about nonbirding topics such as two pages on the dangers of driving in Peru. A photograph or drawing of a Marvelous Spatuletail would have been a nice addition. Perhaps it is a good thing that the book does not devolve into an annotated list of birds. Enjoyment of the book does require that the reader develops some sympathy for Strycker’s frenzied running around the world listing birds. I enjoyed reading Strycker’s account and, unlike with some similar books, I was never bored. His account was much less of “I had a good day today, these are the birds that I saw” book and, for better or worse, much more like a typical travel book, covering snapshots of countryside and human encounters.

Green Hermit

Green Hermits are found in a variety of habitats, both pristine and human-altered. They specialize in relatively large flowers, like the heliconias in the second photo, not surprising given the length of their long, curved bills. They also hut for small arthropods and spiders. The first of these photos is a male from the Hummingbird Gallery near Monteverde on 5 July. The second photo is a female from the Arenal Observatory, where we stayed a few days later. Their long, white central tail feathers are not clearly visible in either photograph.

Like many other species, they forage by trap-lining, making a regular route to favorite flowers. As do many of the other hummingbirds we saw, hermits form leks during the breeding season. Females, in quick succession, mate with multiple males. Curiously, at their leks, males often perform false-matings with small pieces of vegetation (Cornell).

Striped-tailed Hummingbird

The Stripe-tailed Hummingbird’s tail stripes are hard to see. They are best identified by their copper wing patches. Males defend flowers and are aggressive. They occasionally pierce flower bases, thereby robbing longer-billed species that specialize on larger flowers. This hummingbird is found in mountains from sotuhern Mexico to Panama.

Costa Rica recently passed a law forbidding the feeding of wildlife. The law is probably well-meaning. Feeding changes eating habits. An abundance of bread and popcorn does wildlife no good. Feeding may also attract wildlife to roadsides, with potentially disastrous consequences of both animals and people.

Presumably this law includes prohibiting bird feeders at hotels and refuges. Many studies conclude that feeding birds results in no harm. Feeding birds also greatly enhances the ecotourism experience for bird and nature loving tourists of all nationalities who flock to Costa Rica. Ecotourism is a large contributor to Costa Rica economy. Far more injurious to birds than bird feeders is deforestation, monoculture, and urban sprawl. Curiously, those activities do not seem to be included in the wildlife law.

Coppery-headed Emerald

Coppery-headed Emeralds are only found in the highlands of Costa Rica. They were relatively uncommon at the hummingbird feeders at the Hummingbird Gallery near Monteverde on 5 July. I do not recall seeing a female (which have green-speckled, white breasts). Like many hummingbirds, Coppery-headed Emeralds form leks, where males sing and females mate with one or more of the males. Males spend most of their time in the forest canopy, wheres females are found closer to the ground (Neotropical Birds). The two photos in this post are both males, which gave me a bit of confusion, since they look so different. Presumably the difference is caused by different angles of light against the iridescent feathers.

Lesser Violetear

Lesser Violetears are found from Costa Rica south to northern Argentina. In my youth, birding in Mexico, I would have identified this bird as a Green Violetear. But populations north of Costa Rica are now thought to be a separate species, the Mexican Violetear. The two species have different plumages, the Lesser Violetears lacking the northern birds’ blue breast patch. I assume the violetears that occasionally stray into the United States are the Mexican species.

The violetear in this photograph, like other hummingbirds at the Monteverde feeders, appears to be sleeping during a rain shower. The species was fairly common at the hummingbird cafe. I identified the species, not by the violet ear feathers, but by the dark band at the end of its iridescent tail. 

Purple-throated Mountain-gem

Perhaps the most striking hummingbird we saw on 5 July near Monteverde was the Purple-throated Mountain-gem. This species inhabits mountain cloud forests from Nicaragua to Panama. As you can see in these photos, males (upper image taken by Erika) look quite different than the ochre-breasted females. Unlike many tropical birds, this hummingbird usually breeds in the rainy season (Cornell).

Green-crowned Brilliant

Green-crowned Brilliants were also abundant at Monteverde’s Hummingbird Gallery on 5 July 2017. These large hummingbirds are found from southern Central America to northwestern South America. Across their range, these relatively high-elevation inhabitants often visit local bird feeders. The first of these photos is of a male, the second—a female.

This species often uses a trapline feeding technique. Here birds follow a specific route to visit flowering plants. Presumably this strategy helps reduce competition among nectar-feeders by spacing them apart. Trap-lining, named after human trappers who check trap lines, has been described in various hummingbirds and also bees, bats, rats, and other fruit-eating mammals. Clearly, however, the hoards of competing hummingbirds at the Hummingbird Gallery do not force brilliants into trap-lining—although I suppose they may parade from one feeder to the next.

Violet Sabrewing

The afternoon of 5 July 2017 became increasingly overcast, with widely scattered downpours. Our normally laid-back dragonfly enthusiasts became downright glum. Arriving at Monteverde, instead of checking into our hotel, our intrepid guides decided to detour to the Hummingbird Gallery.  This small, hillside, coffee house was surrounded by forest at the end of the road next to the entrance to the Monteverde National Park. The gallery sign promised a “gift shop, local crafts, photo exposition, mail box, green disposal, Welcome.” The draw, however, was dozens of hummingbird feeders and hundreds of hummingbirds. The birds zipped back and forth in a feeding frenzy. I suspect at least two species of hummingbirds (and a Bananaquit) are in the first photo. Sorting out field marks and identification still leaves me astounded. The species diversity was like being in an aerial Great Barrier Reef.

Violet Sabrewings were the most common species, or, at least, the most belligerent. These hummingbirds range from southern Mexico to Costa Rica. They dominated the feeders, chasing interlopers away. Oddly, almost all were males. The males are polygamous and form leks, which are areas where males sing and females pick their mates. Several females may mate with one male. The males do not participate in raising the young. I only recall seeing one female, the bird in the second to last photo in this post.

We quickly figured out that we got better photos if we looked for birds perched away from the aesthetically distracting feeders. As rain began to fall, this male sabrewing appear to be taking a short nap. Violet Sabrewings get their names from their sabre-shaped outer wing quills. Dennis Paulson says that this strange feather shape makes an impressive rattling sound when the Sabrewings fly.

The rain developed into a short-lived downpour. We tourists were glad to be under the eaves of the cafe. A few of the sabrewings bathed under the downspouts from the roof. The birds spread their wings and fluffed the body feathers. Clearly these hummingbirds did not mind getting soaked.

Pileated Woodpecker

Our backwoods become gold in the fall. Up flew a noisy, male Pileated Woodpecker. I have previously written about this crow-sized woodpecker. After a day of rain and two days of wind, most of the golden leaves are now in my banding nets. Winter can not be far behind.