Farnboro John
Well-known member
Rocky then pointed out a hummingbird perched on a branch above us: White-bellied Hummingbird he said – new and once I got onto it (not that easy to spot a small still bird against the strong light), very quickly into the can with the camera.
Making our way over the small ridge we could then see the path continuing to wind among fallen boulders generally long the cliff face before splitting, one half heading right and perhaps down into the forest (I thought hopefully) while the left arm struck up towards another switchback peak at a point where the cliff turned a corner away from us: it was clear that at the top of that path would be a serious drop-off. Guess which one we followed….
That’s right. The left path was broader but the vegetation around it was lower and something about its upward sweep made me feel a bit vulnerable though if the same geography had been in the South Downs I would have been blithely unconcerned. In addition, of course, once your fears have been activated by one incident the activation level for the next one is very much lower and I was now primed to react badly to almost anything that made me worry about falling.
At the top of what turned out to be just a spur path was a mirador with a log bench at the near end overlooking the path dropping away back whence we had come, and a well-trodden red earth platform with a plank bench overlooking a very steep drop to the canopy of the forest. Very uncomfortable with the feeling of a drop all round me (except where the cliff towered above us at the base of the tiny ridge on which we stood) I crept uneasily to the bench and plonked my backside on it. I didn’t feel much better but knew I couldn’t fall off anything there.
One of the other two pointed out a Cliff Flycatcher hunting from a branch projecting from the cliff a little way above us: not so far as to make the horizon reel from looking up which by now was almost as bad as looking down. Concentrating on getting photos distracted me from our situation and I looked around for other possible targets: I also remembered the phone in my pocket and used it to photograph the approach path and peaks beyond: across the valley Rocky found and directed us to a couple of Military Macaws perched up and I took a couple of very long range shots of them.
The afternoon was progressing and it seemed the macaws made roosting flights early, with pairs and small flocks coming past us at varying distances quite frequently. As my equanimity returned I managed to stand up and follow some of them with the camera and get one or two acceptable pictures of the big parrots in flight in the sunshine, including the odd topside! Speaking of pairs it really was very noticeable how pairs of Military Macaws stuck closely together as they moved around their territories: typically only a few feet separated them at any time.
Eventually we returned down the spur track and turned onto the return part of the Loro Trail. Only it seemed there were still two options, one of which continued to another mirador while the other headed more immediately downwards into the forested stream valley. I chose down and Steve kindly assented.
The day wasn’t quite finished because in the depths of the valley, with what little light remained beginning to fade in the late afternoon, we had a good view but no chance of pictures of a Brown Tinamou firtling about in the streambed before stalking off into the undergrowth; and a Slaty Gnateater brought in by more playback to yield views.
Dinner was a tray-baked pizza and loads of wonderful vegetables both cooked and salad – we judged the hygiene was Western-standard and waded in after days in Santa Cruz of (admittedly very nice) menus with mainly carb-based meals lacking greens. We had no digestive emergencies throughout the trip, though the Imodium was always at hand in case of disaster.
Spotlighting the lawns and forest edge on the way back to the accommodation after going through the log we had our first Crab-eating Fox of the trip (my first ever of course). A very satisfying end to a good day, with much promise for the rest of this episode of the trip.
John
White-bellied Hummingbird
Bromeliads
Military Macaws perched
Cliff Flycatcher
Making our way over the small ridge we could then see the path continuing to wind among fallen boulders generally long the cliff face before splitting, one half heading right and perhaps down into the forest (I thought hopefully) while the left arm struck up towards another switchback peak at a point where the cliff turned a corner away from us: it was clear that at the top of that path would be a serious drop-off. Guess which one we followed….
That’s right. The left path was broader but the vegetation around it was lower and something about its upward sweep made me feel a bit vulnerable though if the same geography had been in the South Downs I would have been blithely unconcerned. In addition, of course, once your fears have been activated by one incident the activation level for the next one is very much lower and I was now primed to react badly to almost anything that made me worry about falling.
At the top of what turned out to be just a spur path was a mirador with a log bench at the near end overlooking the path dropping away back whence we had come, and a well-trodden red earth platform with a plank bench overlooking a very steep drop to the canopy of the forest. Very uncomfortable with the feeling of a drop all round me (except where the cliff towered above us at the base of the tiny ridge on which we stood) I crept uneasily to the bench and plonked my backside on it. I didn’t feel much better but knew I couldn’t fall off anything there.
One of the other two pointed out a Cliff Flycatcher hunting from a branch projecting from the cliff a little way above us: not so far as to make the horizon reel from looking up which by now was almost as bad as looking down. Concentrating on getting photos distracted me from our situation and I looked around for other possible targets: I also remembered the phone in my pocket and used it to photograph the approach path and peaks beyond: across the valley Rocky found and directed us to a couple of Military Macaws perched up and I took a couple of very long range shots of them.
The afternoon was progressing and it seemed the macaws made roosting flights early, with pairs and small flocks coming past us at varying distances quite frequently. As my equanimity returned I managed to stand up and follow some of them with the camera and get one or two acceptable pictures of the big parrots in flight in the sunshine, including the odd topside! Speaking of pairs it really was very noticeable how pairs of Military Macaws stuck closely together as they moved around their territories: typically only a few feet separated them at any time.
Eventually we returned down the spur track and turned onto the return part of the Loro Trail. Only it seemed there were still two options, one of which continued to another mirador while the other headed more immediately downwards into the forested stream valley. I chose down and Steve kindly assented.
The day wasn’t quite finished because in the depths of the valley, with what little light remained beginning to fade in the late afternoon, we had a good view but no chance of pictures of a Brown Tinamou firtling about in the streambed before stalking off into the undergrowth; and a Slaty Gnateater brought in by more playback to yield views.
Dinner was a tray-baked pizza and loads of wonderful vegetables both cooked and salad – we judged the hygiene was Western-standard and waded in after days in Santa Cruz of (admittedly very nice) menus with mainly carb-based meals lacking greens. We had no digestive emergencies throughout the trip, though the Imodium was always at hand in case of disaster.
Spotlighting the lawns and forest edge on the way back to the accommodation after going through the log we had our first Crab-eating Fox of the trip (my first ever of course). A very satisfying end to a good day, with much promise for the rest of this episode of the trip.
John
White-bellied Hummingbird
Bromeliads
Military Macaws perched
Cliff Flycatcher
. Although it did wash all the smoke out of the air.
