Friday, May 29, 2020

The Olive-backed Sunbird: Nectar Feeder of the Philippines

Olive-backed Sunbird (note the long tongue for feeding on nectar)

The Olive-backed Sunbird (Nectarinia jugulars) is one of the more common sunbirds seen at low elevations in the Philippines.  I first spotted these small nectar feeding birds on a silk Acacia tree on the Brent International School Campus. Later, I started spotting them at different locations in the Brent Subdivision where I live.  They are fast moving birds that tend to stick to the tops of the trees. As is common in the tropics, certain trees will shed their leaves at different times during the year. These small birds will stop at the tops of these trees to sun usually early in the mornings but also in the late afternoon.

Male Olive-backed Sunbird


As mentioned earlier, these are nectar feeding birds.  I have spotted them gleaning small insects and also feeding on the nectar from the silk acacia trees. They will perch right on or in the flowers or on occasion they will hover briefly and feed while in the air.

Immature Olive-backed Sunbird
Immature Olive-backed Sunbird


Immature male Olive-backed Sunbird
Sunbirds fill a similar niche in Asia to the hummingbirds of the Americas.  They are small, quick and can hover above the flowers when feeding. They are not quite the flyers as the hummingbirds though they also can have that metallic iridescent coloration similar to hummingbirds.


Olive-backed Sunbirds in silhouette photographed from my front yard.

Olive-backed Sunbirds in silhouette photographed from my front yard.

Olive-backed Sunbirds in silhouette photographed from my front yard.


Saturday, April 4, 2020

Reflections on Birding During the Lockdown in the Philippines

I was first a naturalist before I was a birder.  By that I mean, when I was a child, my father would take me on hikes. He liked catching snakes, so we were always turning over stumps and looking in old wells to see what we could find. He also was a prairie enthusiast. That is to say, he was interested in anything remotely associated with prairies. That includes the wildlife, the grasses, the streams that run through them, and the woods and the valleys in the middle of them.

He taught me a lot about the wilderness. Later, I had friends that were birders, and since l knew most of the birds by their names, and also by their habits, and their silhouettes, I found this a great pastime. Comparing the looks, habitats, and behaviors of birds from different places is always a good thing to do when in the woods or field.  So, over the years, I have drifted in and out of birding. You see, I like anything that gets me out. Be it birding, hiking, trail running or just sitting on a hill.

So now with the lockdown here in the Philippines and my ability to get to the wilderness limited, I have found solace in bird watching. We live in a gated community that has some fields surrounding it. It also has a few areas that haven't been developed. These half filled subdivisions have been cleared, but have become untidy. These spaces are now my wilderness. They have revealed themselves to have much more wildlife than I anticipated.


For example, there was this place in one subdivisions where the road curves around a corner and meanders about 250 meters to a dead end. Along one side is an artificial pond full of water lilies, and a few large trees. On the other side of the road, there is a grassy area containing snipe and quail and at the end of the road is a large grassy field with grass and scattered acacia trees. This was my favorite spot, until it was discovered by everyone in Brentville. 

I used to go down at sunrise and sit in this remote corner at the end of the road waiting for the birds to appear in the tree tops, but now there is a never ending parade of walkers and runners looking for that same solace...and they probably find it. If you are walking you probably didn't see the couple that came five minutes before you or the older gentleman that was jogging after you left. Unfortunately the birds see you and so do I. I see the birds look for someplace else to feed. Now some stay, but the ones that aren't afraid are the ones I've already seen. I've seen them so many times. I've seen the shrikes, the bulbols, collared kingfishers, and the pied trillers. Less common but visible between runners are the orioles, mynah birds, and bee-eaters. 


Less common but visible between runners are the orioles, mynah birds, and bee-eaters. 



Once in a while though, I have those great moments when I see something I haven't seen before. As you become more accustomed to birds, you start to know them by so many things. For example, I know many of their colors, their silhouette, their call, the way they fly, or maybe a certain way they cock their head. A good naturalist immediately notices something different. Though, sometimes we get fooled. Sometimes we classify something based on a familiar pattern when really it is something we've never seen before. 

At the end of my favorite road is a field.  I have walked it, but haven’t been too enthusiastic about hiking into on a regular basis. You see, it isn’t that large. It is full of a nonnative grass and since it was originally planned as a subdivision, the field is full of old drainage ditches full of cement rocks.  The field has some short acacia trees that are similar to the south Texas mesquite. They provide some shade, but they didn’t seem to attract too many birds. I really don’t want to hike there or sit in it partially because maybe there could be cobras in the grass, but more so there definitely would be ants. Probably ten or more different kinds waiting to chew on my ankles and crawl up my legs.  I don’t mind this terribly, but sometimes it isn’t worth it when I don't see much and this field didn’t seem worth it.  The thing is though, I saw something.

At the end of the road, where I always sit. It has become very busy with the quarantine. Everybody seems to be looking for a place to walk or run. There’s this one guy with a cell phone playing music that walks up and down this street for about an hour most days at sunrise.  Between him and everyone else, the birds have become more scarce.  I did see something in the field though.

You see a couple of days ago, I got some nice photos of he blue-tailed bee-eater.  They are the kind of beautiful bird that I would imagine people would make documentaries about. They are beautiful. They have interesting habits, and each time they move and from every angle you see something worth looking at and maybe even filming.  So looking out at this last uninhabited piece of the subdivision, I saw a flash of blue. It could have been a collared-kingfisher. They like this area and they might do something like that. The blue was so bright though. I thought it might be a bee-eater. They also fly out to forage for insects. When they catch them, they fly to a low perch and beat the poor to death before eating it. It is cool behavior, and like I said, probably worth making a documentary. But,,,I wasn’t sure if that is what I saw. It seemed larger and the blue was very intense.


Today, dismayed by the amount of people walking my favorite birding spot, I decided to walk out into the field. I would brave the ants to find a spot to sit. My plan was to wait for an hour at sunrise and see what shows up. The thing is, I have walked this field a couple of times. Besides the flash of blue the other day, it hasn’t revealed much. Nevertheless, places with few birds, may have one or two surprises. 

Well, I found a spot to sit and the good thing is I knew no one else would bother me. The field is not the place you want to walk. After an hour, I discovered quite a few ants; lots of ants. My first spot on a log was quickly overrun so I moved to a rock. The rock was not as bad. I saw quite a few of the usual birds and one tiny bird that might have been a sunbird. It didn’t stay long enough.

But just as I was about to leave, I had that experience that every adventurer lives for.  I saw something new. First, I saw the flash of blue. But this time there was a large white patch on the wing. I stared intently where it disappeared. And then it flew up and I saw red…but no, it was more intense in the sun; more of a crimson color and the bill was thick and huge. It had to be a kingfisher…maybe. It was very big and maybe it was some new kind of bird I had never seen before.

I watched the bird from a good distance for quite some time. It stayed in the low branches and would fly out into the grass for large insects. It was a larger bird about twice or three times the size of a collared-kingfisher. When it would sit facing me through the trees, I could see the reddish parts underneath.  From the sides, when it was sitting, the blue settled into a couple of bands along the wings with a blue tail. The blue is much lighter looking when the bird is sitting. The large thick reddish bill looks much lighter where it meets the face. It is definitely a kingfisher. When I get home, I identify it as the White-throated kingfisher.



Here in the Philippines, kingfishers are not just found along streams. This is the third species I have seen in fields or forests some distance from water. This particular kingfisher is suppose to be fairly common. 

This was my first siting and the experience was wonderful. As I took in the new species, my brain was overwhelmed with new data. The way it flew, the way the colors were iridescent and so bright in the sun and drab in the shade except for those blue bands that shined like neon lights. It’s always fun to see something for the first time and every living thing has its own beauty when you look close. 


It is especially interesting when the bird is this colorful, and in a place I wasn’t expecting.  My experience is that when you put yourself out there something will happen.   It took an hour to see. I was giving up. My legs were coated in at least two different kinds of biting ants. Just when I was ready to leave, I found this beautiful bird. Not only did I see it, but I learned from it. I watched it feed. I saw how it was able always keep a tree between us.  It was one of those birds that you have to sit for. It required a certain amount of patience and persistence. My Palm Sunday adventure turned out perfect.