PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

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part 5 of the great bolivian parrot tour: lomas de arena, santa cruz, bolivia 2011-04-29 - 7:21 a.m. all photos copyright 2011 by elaine radford lomas de arena park, santa cruz, bolivia You have reached Part 5 of the incredible Bolivian parrot tour. To start at the beginning, you may want to follow these links: Part #1: Peach-Front Conure Joins the Bird List Part #2: Blockades Can't Block Us Part #3: I Am the Seed-Eater King Part #4: Blue-Throated Macaw with photos, Can Your Bird List Do That? Friday, April 15, Trinidad to Santa Cruz, Bolivia There's no chalkboard at Trinidad airport either. S. called the night before, and they said that the plane would be leaving at 6:10, and that we should get to the airport for what? 5 or 5:15? I don't remember now, but it was something in the neighborhood of oh-dark-thirty, because when our driver dropped us off, there were still White-Winged Nightjars, a life bird for me and one of those birds that actually seem smaller when it lands on the ground in front of you, but mostly they were circling around the lights at the entrance to the airport. I am still wondering who unlocked the front door and turned on the lights because, when we strolled inside, there were a few disgruntled customers milling around, but there were no airport employees. They told me the plane was leaving at 6:10, S. said, obviously a tad peeved with his brothers in airport customer service. Well, we weren't the only ones who were told that, because there were several people ahead of us. A well-dressed man with a briefcase strolled up at 6 on the dot. They didn't tell Richie Rich to be here at oh-dark-thirty, I thought to myself. At some point, I'll say around 6:30-ish, a clerk showed up to get us checked in, and then there was another (but shorter) wait to get through security. The X-ray was working here, maybe because we were flying into the big city of Santa Cruz and in theory there were actually skyscrapers that a terrorist could fly into, rather than just some market stalls and donkey carts. Since I hadn't had to take off anything going the other way, I was pretty much wearing all sorts of silver jewelry and a photo vest crammed full of items in every pocket -- everything in my pockets because your carry-on bag was supposed to be only 3 kilograms. Not that anyone weighed your carry-on, so I might as well have put everything in it to begin with. As it was, I had to take off vest, jewelry, glasses, and I don't know what all, but not my shoes. It was less intrusive than many airport security lines and was only a nuisance because I hadn't planned for it. Really, it was very like a bus station. They waited until they had enough people to fill the bus, and then it was time to go. But, first, S. noticed an Owl Butterfly trapped in the post-screening room. The silly butterfly couldn't figure out how to get out of the glass box. Finally, S. couldn't stand it anymore. He went over, picked up the butterfly, and stepped out of the door to release it. Nobody said anything. I'm sure ten trillion alarms would be going off in an American airport, but oh well. The sanity and freedom of an Owl Butterfly had been saved. When they'd sold all the tickets, there was a sudden mad rush for the door. I ended up at the end of the line because, well, I'm all Elite and special and I'm not used to having to fight for my seat on the bus. There were 19 seats on this bus, which was probably the same one (or at least the same model) that we flew out on. Can you figure out why? There are 9 seats on the left side of the aisle. 9 seats on the right side of the aisle. However, in the last row, the aisle ends and there is actually a middle seat! Some guy wanted it, and at the last minute he told me to go ahead. Bless his heart. I think it wasn't all just altruism. I think he wanted the legspace, since there could be no seat in front of him. But I can't stand being closed in by people on BOTH sides, so I was happy to be in a window, even if it was at the very back. It was only an hour flight, but before we got on the plane, some guy gave out bottled water twice, and I went ahead and took both bottles. With all the water I use to clean my toothbrush and dental device, as well as to drink, I figured I'd better grab all the free water I could get. It was only an hour flight, but I have to say that it was a much longer hour in a full cabin than it was when we had only 5 or 6 other pax. Because the plane was late, we got to Santa Cruz late, and it was already a hot morning. S. asked me what I wanted to do, go to the hotel first or get to the birding. I figured that we might as well get to the birding, because it wasn't gonna get any cooler. First though, the driver took us to a Japanese or Korean place to get some salte�as. I do not know what the difference is between an empenada and a salte�a, to me, they seemed to be exactly the same thing. The picante beef salte�a was extremely tasty; the Nescaf� not so much. C. and S. were too canny to order coffee, they ordered some kind of fancy juice. But they got ripped too, because they paid for juice with milk and it came made with water. They complained, and there was an apology, but no refund of the 12 cents or so difference in price. I don't speak Spanish or Korean, but I understand that sad story loud and clear. It's too bad if they've screwed up and lost their tourists over cheaping out on the drinks, because their food is really, really good. Onward. Forget about those of us who sort by food. Let's get to the birds. So...We had sort of a buffer day in Santa Cruz. I suspect that it was to make sure that I'd catch my pricey private plane the next day, even if there was a delay getting out of Trinidad -- and I have to admit that I very strongly approve of such a buffer. People who plan on everything going right often get surprised. People who plan on "something might happen" often get surprised too -- but their surprises tend to be pleasant ones. there's one in every crowd, and the hustler of lomas de arena was this red-legged seriema On my previous visit to Santa Cruz, I'd done the Botanical Garden, so S. tried to do something different. We started by visiting Lomas de Arena, the Sandy Dunes or Sandy Foothills...not sure which is better. At the time, I thought he meant hills or foothills but it looked like dunes and I had reason to believe that he wouldn't know the word dunes, so...but I'm getting ahead of myself. My Spanish is poor or some people would even say nonexistent, but I think I'm pretty close on an approximate translation. I don't give language lessons, though, so if you need an exact translation, use der Google. By any name, it was a highly atmospheric place for the photographer. Apparently it can also catch good birds, especially in migration. To be honest, it didn't need to "catch" any good birds for me, although I could tell that S. considered it a slow day, because I was getting nifty new birds and enjoying some nice scenery. I do not have a good history with Tinamous. Oh, I hear the little ess-oh-bees, but it's tough to see them. I about fell on my duff when we had a White-Bellied Tinamou/Nothura (same bird, you pick the common name that you favor) primping and preening and simply refusing to be chased away just because some mere mortal was daring to gaze upon his presence. I am a bad twitcher who actually likes to see birds I have seen before. (Sometimes I like them best of all, because it's like an ongoing story.) A very fine bird of the day was the Burrowing Owl. There are a lot of them around. We first saw a colony on what was part of a private ranch (?) or some other private holding immediately adjacent to the park. However, the CUTEST sighting of the day, by far, was when we were near one of the dunes, and we were inspecting one of the Burrowing Owls who was just kinda, sorta hanging out. I think his mate or friend was planning to join him, when we started up the van and started to move forward, just in time to see a second Burrowing Owl fly up and across from my side of the van. Poor little Owl. He actually spun around in mid-air and put his feet up, as if to challenge the van to fisticuffs -- although what I think really happened is that he just got flipped over by a combination of a gust of wind and his surprise at seeing us. No owls were harmed in the making of this webpage, and he righted himself just fine, but I have to admit that it was a true humor element to see the bird flip in mid-air like that. S. heard a Red-Legged Seriema, and they did this whole drama thing where they called and hid and snuck away and called and hid and snuck away, and they lured us out into the hot sun, and it's probably a miracle we didn't all die of heat-stroke, much to the amusement of the Red-Legged Seriemas. Then, once we had the bird and they had no more point to make by denying us their presence...well, let's just say that they hustle the restaurant. They strolled by very s-l-o-w-l-y and pointedly looking inside, and since we were the only folks there (it's still the "rainy" season/off season in theory), it was pretty effing obvious that we were the targets. As I've said probably a hundred times before since I've started this diary, I can't eat so much any more and I would be happy to give the birds their choice of my leftovers, but it's a park. I didn't know if it was allowed. So, when I finally insisted I was done, one of the park employees gave my uneaten "freedom flies" to a very charming Red-Legged Seriema. So cute! here's a scraggly face that only a mother could love, hee hee Also, I learned something today about Guira Cuckoo. They are not classic Cuckoos that put their youngsters in somebody else's nest. They actually do try to raise their own babies for a few days before they get bored with the project and push them out. Executive summary: The babies pop out of the nest WAY before they look ready. One of the locals picked up a Guira Cuckoo baby that had been pushed out that day, so that we could take pictures. The baby pretended to be fairly horrified but you could tell that he wasn't really all that stressed. I think when you're that young, anything that happens seems normal, even some gringa being asked to pick you up and hold you for a moment. I took a few snapshots, thanked everybody involved, and then the finder of the cuckoo put the birdlet back where he belonged. The day kept getting hotter, so we drove across town to a more forested area with a pipeline running through it. Despite the heat, there were good birds here like Chestnut-Eared Aracari -- maybe the only Chestnut-eared Aracaris of this trip -- and our lovely and talented friend, the Rufous-Tailed Jacamar. We also showed the driver's wife a Three-Toed Sloth, and she pretended to be impressed (or maybe she actually was impressed, I'm not sure) but she was more concerned with some dance that she expected her happy hubby to attend after work. Yikes. I don't know if it was a dance you watch, like a ballet, or if she had a student recital and he was supposed to watch her students dance (alas for poor C. -- I'd weight this interpretation of what she was saying most heavily) or if some odd reason she suddenly went disco, but whatever. another shot of the whimsical baby guira cuckoo, it really does look rather unfinished, doesn't it? Oh, and it was a beautiful day of scadzillions of orange butterflies of multiple species. Not so many as on our honeymoon, but enough to remind me that -- egads! -- wasn't yesterday our anniversary? Oh well, I married a man. He doesn't remember what day our anniversary is any more than I do. The List: You know the score. Lifers are in bold. Today's list includes mostly birds from Santa Cruz, but the White-Winged Nightjar was seen in Beni at Trinidad airport. White-Bellied Nothura Speckled Chachalaca Brazilian Teal Striated Heron Whistling Heron Turkey Vulture Black Vulture Roadside Hawk Southern Crested Caracara American Kestrel Red-Legged Seriema Black-Necked Stilt Greater Yellowlegs Rock Dove Eared Dove Ruddy Ground-Dove Picui Ground-Dove Gray-Fronted Dove Blue-Crowned Parakeet White-Eyed Parakeet Blue-Winged Parrotlet Yellow-Chevroned Parakeet Cobalt-Winged Parakeet Greater Ani Smooth-Billed Ani Guira Cuckoo Burrowing Owl White-Winged Nightjar Blue-Crowned Trogon-- female only Rufous-Tailed Jacamar Chestnut-Eared Aracari Toco Toucan White-Wedged Piculet Yellow-Tufted Woodpecker Red-Necked WOodpecker Buff-Throated Woodcreeper Narrow-Billed Woodcreeper Rufous Hornero Chotoy Spinetail Vermilion Flycatcher Cattle Tyrant Great Kiskadee Crowned Slaty-Flycatcher Tropical Kingbird Dusky-Capped Flycatcher Red-Eyed Vireo Purplish Jay Plush-Crested Jay Thrushlike Wren House Wren Black-Billed Thrush Sayaca Tanager Golden-Bellied Euphonia Grassland Sparrow Grassland Yellow-Finch Buff-Throated Saltator Crested Oropendula Chopi Blackbird House Sparrow You have just read part 5 of the great Bolivian parrot adventure. Continue now to part 6, where I lease a Cessna and find the Hyachinth Macaw, no, really! I have photographic proof of my colorful exploits. real bolivians use cell phones, and i was starting to worry that the day of the colorful bird phone booths had passed, but my foofy tourist hotel in santa cruz featured not one, but two, of the jabiru phone booths back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford