The call of the wild

March 24, 2008

I could hardly contain myself, I was actualy squeeling! I don’t think I’ve ever squeeled before. The sound being emitted from the vocal cords did not sound the least bit familiar. This was definitely not a good sound to make while you were out bird watching. But there it was, I could see it with my own eyes, and it wasn’t behind the bars of a cage or in the collection of a zoo. I was looking at a real live toucan, a mountain toucan to be exact, out in the cloud forest of the Bella Vista reserve.

I could see him cock his head to one side as if listening to the tree and the insects living inside. He would then take a couple hops and plug his long black and yellow beak into a hole. I could see yellow encircling his eyes, a blue feathered body, and a red tuft at the base of his tail. There were two of them hopping about the long arms of the tree, tapping here and there, and flapping up and down the trunk to new perches. I couldn’t believe how excited I was to see a bird. I’d always wanted to see a Toucan. Such a strange bird, but so beautiful, and tutti frutti and fruit loops had nothing to do with it.

I saw wonderful birds with magnificent names. I saw the sickle winged guan and the common potoo. The masked trogon and the crimson-mantled woodpecker. Azara’s spinetail and the streaked tuftedcheek. The green and black fruiteater and the streak-necked flycatcher. The smoke-colored pewee, the rufous-headed pygmy-tyrant, golden-crowned flycatcher, and grey-breasted wood-wren. The turquoise jay, blackburnian warbler, and russet-crowned warbler. The spectacled whitestart, grass-green tanager, dusky-bush tanager, blue and black tanager, blue-winged mountain tanager, tricolored brush finch, and the giant cowbird. I know their names because my trusty field guide, Iris from Germany, named them for me and showed me their pictures from the field book.

The hike had started out very hum drum. Green plants, muddy earth, another wet hike through the now familiar jungle. But then the quiet began to envelope me and I felt the clouds blanket and pull me in. Sounds became magnified and the sea of green took on wild and fantastical shapes behind the curtain of misty wet fog. I heard the sharp call of a bird sounding exactly like a tea kettle. There was the high pitched timbre of the humming bird, and the flap of wings high up in the foliage. Leaves as large as child and bright red plumeria and pink dripping flowers. The cloud forest had come alive.