We were renting a small house near the “Garden” and were sitting on the north-facing porch as the sun was setting. Suddenly, a few Crimson-fronted Parakeets dashed past the yard. Then came a few more. Soon, we had hundreds. The calls were deafening but what made the moment memorable was that the angle of the setting sun illuminated each irridescent feather. The emerald bodies seemed to be carrying fire on their foreheads and underwings. These parakeets are trivially-common and sometimes a pest, but those brief moments were breath-taking. (We were less delighted when they left the nearby roost at 5AM, the next morning!)
Last weekend longtime SVBC member Joe Ippolito hosted a very special memorial, in conjunction with Rodrigo de Sousa and the Osa Conservation project.
Perched on a perfect hillside setting on the Ippolito property, a tree was planted in memory of the passing of Joe’s dear wife Judith Ippolito. Judith passed away in January of this year. She was a dedicated rainforest devotee and a great lover of nature in general.
The Osa Conservation crew recently planted over 2,000 trees on the Ippolito property, with one very special tree planted to oversee all the rest. A memorial plaque to Judith sits next to that tree.
Not too long after moving from San Vito to Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2019, I started hiking with a few other spry 70-year olds almost every Friday. Our preferred outing was to start at the Santa Fe Ski Basini n the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, just 30-minutes from town, and climb Deception Peak, a gentle mountaintop that, at 12,320 feet elevation is in the tundra above tree line. In the summer months, especially, we usually encounter the highly curious, intrepid Canada Jay, which I assume from years of sharing their forest habitat with skiers and hikers, have become quite bold in approaching us as we’re having a snack or lunch, looking for a handout. Now I know many people think indulging such bird behavior is inappropriate; and as I understand it, feeding wild birds is now illegal in Costa Rica. But after having had the magical experience of holding a bird in my hand during mist-netting sessions at Finca Cantaros, I find it impossible not to offer these Jays a few nuts or a crust from a sandwich.
While hiking down one of my steep, remote and muddy trails I stopped to reflect and sit on the bench you see below. To my right, I watched a male and a female Green Hermit hummingbird perform a sophisticated, lengthy and alluring nuptial (mating) dance.
Added to that, on the left side of where I was sitting were two Lesson’s Motmots who were singing, in perfect harmony, that great Righteous Brothers tune, ‘Unchained Melody’.
The amazing thing is that, except for the singing Motmots…this is all true.
A few years ago a pair of Roadside Hawks nested on our property in San Vito. We often heard those distinctive calls, occasionally spotting the pair in the late afternoon. But it was their single offspring that captured our attention.
This bold young hawk often perched in a tree close to our front door, silently making his presence known as we performed our routine activities. Periodically, he would swoop low over our heads as we made our way out of the house. One afternoon, I realized that he was perched on our back porch railing. As I slowly entered our bedroom, I saw he had changed position and was now facing me from the window sill. The youngster perched there and scrutinized the bird he saw reflected in the glass.
It was a thrilling moment. In a sense for those few weeks, we participated with the parents in this fledgling’s development and it filled me with family pride.
Roadside Hawk, taken through a very wet window; photo courtesy of Helen LeVasseur
For many of us who are not full-time residents of San Vito, the many bird interactions we enjoy in Costa Rica can feel like a great loss during the months in our non-tropical homes. We settle for less colorful and abundant birds that are usually more prosaic, not as showy, and seldom spectacular. But Tiny Moments do still occur, and if we’re persistent we stay aware and find our lives peppered with avian interactions that can provide joy during our daily mundane existence. Here are a few that I have noted this summer in the hot, dry chaparral of the back country in San Diego county.
An early morning walk, before the temperature rises to drive you indoors, flushes a covey of a dozen California Quail from the sage bushes beside the trail. Their wings thrum as they flee their hiding place and disappear into nearby plants.
A White-breasted Nuthatch, one of the more unique visitors to the sunflower seed feeder, gains access by walking straight down the side of the large camphor tree, flitting across to the feeder where he grabs one seed from the dish, and then rushes back up into the tree to ferociously hammer at the shell until the tender reward is pried out. Repeated endlessly, with time-outs for occasional bug searches in the deep furrows of the tree bark.
The arrival of the migrant Lesser Goldfinch, joining their year-round cousins, brings seating reservations at the Nyjer Cafe to a premium. As the level of seed plummets in the feeder, it is obvious the Maitre d’ has fled, and opening seating, with shoving and pushing encouraged, has ensued. The tube feeders become battlegrounds.
The winner of the oddest behavior has to go to a small flock of European Starlings in non-breeding plumage, trying to find an afternoon meal in the parched grass of my lawn. With the thermometer stuck at 100º all are hot and thirsty, and the starlings are panting with their long pointy beaks wide open. So every dive into the grass looks more like a Nightjar than a songbird. If they are lucky and find a grub, the beak is closed as they bring their head up. The unlucky fellows straighten up with beak still wide open, giving the birds the look of a group of mad seamstresses attacking the grass with open scissors.
Living in the altiplano of Southern Colorado at 8500 feet, there wasn’t much for birds to eat, so I grew some berry and seedy things inside a deer-proof fence, and had a hummingbird feeder in a juniper tree about 5 feet from the front door, visible from the dining room windows.
One day, my black dog Jessie started barking in a very different way, long, deep menacing barks – not just the normal “hey human, somebody’s here” announcement. I went to the door and opened it, and standing 5 feet away, helping himself to the feeder, was an adult brown (sic: black) bear.
Backing away slowly, closing (and locking) the door, I realized I needed to find my bird buds a new solution. We set up a stop point further up the tree with a rope and pulley system. The Ruby Throats and Rufous were happy again.
It was Alfred Lord Tennyson who said “Nature, red in tooth and claw”.
My sister invited me over to her property in Santa Fe County, NM, just a couple of miles from our home, to see and photograph two Northern Harrier chicks that have been enjoying constant parental oversight since the nest was constructed in April. Sue thought they were about to fledge, so on Saturday morning I was there at 8:15 am. Alas, Sue met me with an anguished face. There had been an attack overnight, and it appeared at least one chick was ravaged with its body and one wing hanging over the side of the nest about 20 feet high in a pinyon pine. There was no sign of the other fledgling.
Suddenly a hawk flew to a tree just 15- 20 feet away from us. We thought at first it was the female Northern Harrier. I took the photo you will see below. She looked at us, and then looked at the nest. Clearly, she had not adjusted to the abrupt change in her daily devotion to her chicks. Or so we thought. (The male was nowhere in sight).
However, when I sent the photo to my birding friend, Bob, he said, “Hold on. That is an adult female Northern Goshawk, not a Harrier! The Goshawks had made a nest on Sue’s property last year!! Our current hypothesis is that the Goshawks did not like the Northern Harriers invading their territory, and attacked the fledglings just before they were ready to leave the nest and start learning to hunt. Or, as Bob suggested, it might have been an Great Horned Owl attack. Or Ravens.
So it doesn’t feel like a tiny moment at all, but it is a lesson once again about how few nests, even that of a medium sized hawk, produce healthy fledglings that survive on their own. From Google:
The average overall nesting survival rate of baby birds is only about 56% but this can range between 46% and 73% for most birds. Birds of prey like Red-Tailed Hawks have high nesting survival rates of 88.9% but smaller songbirds like House Sparrows have only 11.6%.My sister was so sad; we hugged, and I went on my way. But it has been hard to shake the wish to know exactly what happened to those birds on the brink of exploring the world.
Northern Goshawk: courtesy of Gail Hewson Hull
FYI: Please keep sending your Tiny Moments. Starting next week, a Tiny Moment will be published each Wednesday and Sunday.
*Author’s note: These ‘Tiny Moments’ are just that; tiny slices of life that may not be exciting…may not be hilarious…may not even be memorable. The ‘Tiny Moment’ below certainly fits that description. But I like really it.*
From SVBC member Greg Mellon.
For some reason a Northern Mockingbird had selected my front porch barbecue for its observation, singing and…alas…excretory perch. I liked the first two activities but I sure didn’t like the last.
I moved a potted Agave cactus plant in front of the barbecue and guess what? It worked out for both of us! The barbecue is mine again.
From SVBC charter member and Master Birdbander Judy Richardson
While weeding around a Boxwood bush something popped out the back door, if Boxwood bushes had back doors! She didn’t fly but headed straight to the ground to cover. Being the nature nerd that I am, I started to check out the Boxwood; only 3 feet high, but very dense with tiny branches and leaves. Right at the top and well disguised I saw some long bits of brown grasses. An even closer look revealed a darling nest with 3 mottled eggs in it. A few days later I returned to find two more eggs! Again, the bird abandoned ship through the back door, straight to cover. Both parents sang out with gusto but never seemed overly frightened of me..
Three weeks passed. Once again I checked and found two tiny babies with 3 more unhatched eggs. Such an exciting find…such fun to watch!
The new parents? A pair for Song Sparrows, the second to choose my low Boxwoods. Both had 5 eggs. The first left the nest two weeks ago!
San Vito Bird Club 
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