Land of the winged giants

 

It has been months since my last blog entry. Probably the longest lapse since I started blogging. Heavy work schedules and age are the main contributing factors. Yes, I have reached a point in my life where the heart and mind are as passionate about birding as ever but the body is not. Age catches up with everyone. It is just a matter of time. Midlife crisis aside, I set off to the wild interiors of Kedah state with two companions to look for hornbills in particular and the captivating aura engulfing the locality upon our arrival reminded me just how much I miss my birding adventures.

 

It may be a little late in the season here for the nomadic Plain-pouched Hornbills but we were not to be disappointed and at least 100 individuals were recorded for this trip.

Good photographic opportunities were far and few but it was a great trip never the less. It gave me a chance reconnect with my birding roots when a pair of binoculars was all that I needed. On one occasion, I surprised even myself when I lifted my binoculars and not my camera when a lone Wreathed Hornbill flew across overhead. These winged giants of the forest are just so impressive especially in flight. And on the same note, judging from the photos I obtained of this flying Rhinoceros Hornbill, perhaps I should have done the same.

My best photographic effort of hornbills on this excursion was this male Oriental Pied Hornbill resting on a roadside tree. This may be the smallest and commonest of all our hornbills but it is not quite that common enough to me. And the encounter was certainly much better than what I was given for the Helmeted Hornbill, Great Hornbill and Bushy-crested Hornbill. Seven species of hornbills on a single trip was an amazing experience even if I do not have the materials to boast on social media.

A unique territorial call echoed across the vicinity later in the morning and one can rarely mistake the vocalization of a Black Magpie for anything else. No effort was spared in trying to locate the bird among the foliage of the forest edge. Although we succeeded in the end, the distance was simply too great to expect anything more than record shots. However, forest is not always unforgiving. Shortly after giving up on the Black Magpie, the bird actually shifted position and alighted on a much nearer perch. To ordinary folks, it looks like a crow which is not far from the truth. But to me and most birders, it is a fascinating forest dweller that rightfully deserves our undivided attention.

Along the edge of a manmade lake yet another distinct territorial call was heard. Unlike the Black Magpie’s, this call is somewhat eerie and it belongs a predatory bird known as the Lesser Fish Eagle. Unfortunately, it was another distant observation but to see the resident pair still thriving here is good enough for me.

On the other hand, there is no joy in seeing this particular species thriving anywhere in Peninsular Malaysia. I was slightly taken back by the sight of a flock of Javan Mynas loitering about the vicinity. This evasive species has now their found their way deep into forested areas and we can only fear for the worse in future.

The Sooty-capped Babbler is not particularly rare in Peninsular Malaysia but like most babblers, it is more often heard than seen. For this case, the vocal appeal outweighs the aesthetic appeal. This drab-looking bird possesses one of the most recognizable and beautiful songs in my home land. The lower storey of the forest where it frequents usually provides ample cover to hide it from view. A small window of opportunity betrayed the trust of the Sooty-capped Babbler to produced this mediocre effort before it gradually vanished into the forest.

Bird waves are phenomenal for birders but not so for photographers. A dozen species of birds on overdrive dashing about everywhere is not exactly what one would consider to be easy shooting. And this male Bar-winged Flycatcher-shrike was the only image I have to show in the end.

Before concluding this long overdue blog post, here are a few candid shots of the locality and some of the views we came across are undoubtedly stunning which is not unexpected.

 

A trail of teasing trogons

 

I found myself exploring the foothills of Gunung Bintang in the state of Kedah on Boxing Day this year. And the weather was surprisingly good with clear blue skies and plenty of sunshine. The vicinity was alive with the sounds of nature and as usual, the wilderness provides sanctuary for my wearied soul. The troops of Agile Gibbons present almost drowned out all the rest with their powerful territorial calls and for these shy primates that is often the only indication of their presence.

One particular call had my undivided attention. It is a series of mournful notes but owner of the call is anything but mournful. I do not come across the Red-naped Trogon all that often and this individual was not making it easy for me. The dense foliage of the canopy hid the bird well and the vocalization was the only aid I have to locating this stunning forest dweller. Quarter of an hour and a couple of leech bites later, the trogon shifted position and slight movement was all that was needed for its location to be revealed. It was a dreadful photographic attempt but the experience exciting nevertheless.

The trogons of this birding haven appear to have returned to the forest surrounding this access road. The movement control order by the government decreased human activities considerably here and could well be one of the main reasons why I found myself surrounded by these forest denizens today. As much as I hate to admit it, human interference regardless of any nature, will have an impact on the ecosystem. In our absence, Mother Nature thrives. Anyway, the Diard’s Trogon and Orange-breasted Trogon teased me with fleeting views from the cover of the forest. Even the commoner Scarlet-rumped Trogon was reluctant to reveal his true beauty today.

His duller mate was not any much better despite resting on a relatively open perch.

The two resident forest kingfishers were also up and about. While the Banded Kingfisher remained out of sight, the Rufous-collared Kingfisher provided a brief but mesmerizing encounter. She alighted at eye level but unfortunately in a gloomy part of the forest. Unlike most avian species, she is just as striking as her male counterpart. I could not recall the last time I came across a female of this species and this girl certainly brought some cheer after the frustrating time with the trogons.

A number of birdwaves swept past me as I slowly ascended the trail. Babblers, warblers, flycatchers, woodpeckers and sunbirds were the main participants of this natural phenomenon. Photographic attempts were futile as the birds were exceptionally active today. All except for a male Black-winged Flycatcher-Shrike that decided to take a short breather in the midst of all the chaos.

Fruiting trees are always a good spot for birds. A small fruiting next to the access road made me stop to have a better look. A pair of Finsch’s Bulbuls came for a short feed but they were the only signs of life at the tree for the entire duration I was there.

I did not give much thought to the resident Chestnut-naped Forktails that were darting about today as these birds do not appreciate human presence much. However, a juvenile decided to momentarily abandon its skittish nature and foraged relatively close to my position. This species has a tendency to hunt along isolated access roads and when out the in the open like this, one can truly appreciate the beauty of the Chestnut-naped Forktail even if it has yet to obtain full adult plumage.

Well, we are all familiar with the saying stop and smell the roses but you will not find any roses here in this hot and humid environment. I hope I am not getting sentimental with age but while waiting (in vain) for the forktail to show itself again, this yellow flower did catch my eye.

The Bushy-crested Hornbill is probably the avian world’s equivalent of the gibbons here at this site. It occurs in flocks and just like the primates, are vocal by nature. A flock was yelping away (yup, they do sound somewhat like puppies) from one of the taller trees and lucky for me, the foliage was sparse enough to make the shape of the hornbills. They were quite a distance away and the tree, strongly backlighted.

Years of birding has moulded me into a patient man and I waited for, hopefully, a change of fortune. My determination paid off when the flock, consisting of nine individuals, took flight and headed towards my direction. I also have been birding long enough to know that things rarely work out exactly how you hoped. When it comes to forest birding, everything comes down to luck and it certainly had some for this encounter.

My best effort of the flying Bushy-crested Hornbills was of this young male. He was the last one to make it across the valley and my modest photographic setup had a little more time to capture the moment. There is just something about hornbills in flight that make them so captivating – even if the species is mostly shades of brown.

I had to borrow my better half’s ride for my birding adventure this time as the battery of my old girl died on me the day before. When it comes to photography, birds and other wildlife naturally has precedence over everything else. But vehicles are one of my few other passions in life and you will find a number of photographs of this nature in my digital archive. And this Kai Concept crossover wrapped things up for the day.

The surf runner

September is usually a wet month for northwest Peninsular Malaysia and this year is no different. To visit the forest surrounding Pedu Lake at this time would be a gamble especially after it had rained the day before. However, the forest denizens of Pedu were not the primary targets for today’s excursion. The promise of a gathering of waders at the high tide roost of Kuala Kedah was. It will be the highest daytime tide for the rest of the year and we were hoping for a rewarding wader watch. Anyway, the weather conditions gave the lakeside environment at Pedu a mesmerizing aura. As Hor Kee, Michael and I soaked in the scenery, I said a silent prayer for the weather to hold until we have concluded our birding.

Apparently, we were not the only ones drawn to the view. A flock of five Large Green-Pigeons alighted on a dead tree overlooking the lake and took a prolonged breather as they prepare for the day ahead. These largest of our green-pigeons is not rare at this birding hotspot but encounters are usually of flocks flying powerfully above the forest canopy. Although all that I could obtained this time were distant shots, the flock still provided a good start to the day.

We found the usually deserted access road surprisingly busy this morning. In fact, this was the most number of vehicles I have ever encountered here before. Thankfully, the birds were still out and about despite the unprecedented human intrusion. Good photographic opportunities were hard to come by though. A flock of Hairy-backed Bulbuls patronizing a fruiting tree finally gave me a reason to lift up my camera again.

At a particular stretch along this forested road, a pair of vocalizing Black-and-Yellow Broadbills caught my attention naturally. Scanning along the canopy level yielded a female bird with a successful hunt. She enjoyed the rewards of her effort partially hidden from view and this was my best attempt in documenting this adorable forest gem.

While I was still observing the Black-and-Yellow Broadbill, a Banded Broadbill started to call and judging from the volume, it was particularly overhead. I managed to glimpse this yet another striking representative of this family of birds moving about the foliage of the forest. As I struggled to try and obtain better views, a flock of Dusky Broadbill announced their arrival with their persistent high pitched calls and my attention was then diverted to them. Dusky Broadbills are the rarest of them all at this birding locality and I took no effort to conceal my excitement. Like the other two species, which were still present, the flock foraged from the cover of the forest canopy. I could not take a single shot until one decided to alight on an exposed perch. There is a God after all...

Determination had me follow the movement of the Dusky Broadbills which was relatively easy because the birds appeared hesitant to wander far from my position. Dilemma set in when my ears picked out the mournful notes of the stunning Diard’s Trogon and it too was in close proximity. Unbelievable as it may seem, a Green Broadbill then started to call in the vicinity as well. For the first time in my life, I have four different species of broadbills present at a single spot. It was just incredible. Earlier on, we had a Black-and-Red Broadbill and that made it five broadbills today – another first for me. However, I could not break from the spell the Dusky Broadbills had me under. In the end, I managed another distant shot of the Dusky Broadbill and missed out on the rest. I guess too much of a good thing may not always be a good thing.

I know forest birding can be frustrating and photography, even more so. But today reminded me how enticing forest birding can be. A bird wave stirred up even more exhilaration with a pair of Black-winged Flycatcher-Shrikes being rather cooperative to my photographic efforts. I rarely get to shoot anything during birdwaves as the participants tend to be restless and these images were much appreciated.

Minivets, babblers, warblers and sunbirds slipped past my gear as they succumbed to the feeding frenzy of the wave. The Great Iora, a species I have been trying to obtain better images but without much success all these years, cruelly taunted me from the very top of the canopy level.

By late morning, things began to sizzle down. It was also about time for us to retreat from the forest and head for the coast to our next destination. A vocal Long-billed Spiderhunter had just enough charisma to hold us back momentarily as we admired its namesake. This forest dweller is not common anywhere but a particular group of flowering trees here in Pedu will occasionally be graced by its presence. The photographer in me was frustrated one last time here in the wilds of Pedu and this odd pose by the spiderhunter was the only image good enough to be shared.

I have been to the coastline off Kuala Muda in Penang state for birding before but this particular high tide roost is new to me. Sometimes, the journey to a destination is half the experience. In a way, I think it applies here.  First, we had to manoeuvre pass dozens of poultry as we walked through a somewhat open coop. Then wade along a submerged, narrow wooden bridge. One wrong step will land you in almost waist deep of tidal water. A sandy beach greeted us at the end of our little adventure and upon further scrutiny, thousands of roosting waders. More than four thousand individuals as a matter of fact.

My better equipped companions got down to work as they scanned and counted the waders present. I, without the aid of a scope, was busy gawking at this breath taking sight because it has been a long time since I marvelled at a spectacle of roosting waders.

I noticed two rather pale waders scurrying about the shoreline and the first thought that came to mind was Sanderlings. And Sanderlings they certainly were. The foraging pair was a fair distance away but this would only be my third ever sighting and the duo certainly had my undivided attention. With both my previous encounters from my digiscoping days more than 15 years ago, I have now being given the chance to finally obtain some images of this scarce migrant.

Sanderlings are known for their penchant for hunting right at the edge of the tideline – rushing in for a quick jab or two into the sand when the tide goes out and a making a hasty retreat when the tide returns. This behaviour is a good indication that the pale peeps you are looking at is a Sanderling. And I just love the way these surf runners teased the raging waters of this ‘super’ high tide.

A Red-necked Stint momentarily joined one of the Sanderlings and it provided a good comparison shot between the two species. A Sanderling sporting its pale winter plumage is not that difficult to identify. It is basically an oversized Red-necked Stint and of course, there is always its surf running habits.

True to its nature, the Sanderlings stuck to the far end and there was no way of reducing the distance between us without scaring off the rest of the waders. When the adrenalin started to wear off, I diverted my attention to the other waders present. Although this was a distant shot, it depicts two very similar species together – the Great Knot and Red Knot. In breeding plumage, there is no mistaking the vivid colouration of the smaller Red Knot. This one still has traces of its breeding colours but in the near future, there will only be subtle differences to tell the two species apart.

The Greater Sand-Plover is not rare but care must be taken to identify it positively. The smaller but much commoner Lesser Sand-Plover look remarkably similar and just to make things interesting, these plovers can be variable in size and built. When seen together, the Greater Sand-Plover is usually distinguishable and there is little doubt of this one’s identity.

Earlier in the post, I made a comparison between the Sanderling and the Red-necked Stint as the latter is one of the most abundant winter migrants in Peninsular Malaysia. I scrutinized the flocks of stints present the best I could just so I do not overlook the remarkably similar (here I go again) but much rarer Little Stint. Or God forbid, a Spoon-billed Sandpiper. The joys of wader identification are boundless...

Anyway, all stints including the Red-necked Stints are certainly adorable. Despite their minute size, they are accomplished long distance travellers. Wader migration is one of the wonders of the natural world and there is certainly more to these little bundle of feathers than what they appear to be.

Here is one bird that is more easily recognizable – a dark morphed Pacific Reef-Heron (yes, it is now a heron). And it was a true goliath when roosting next to the waders.

As the waders grew accustomed to our presence, we shifted to a more strategic position to continue our observation. A lone juvenile Lesser Sand-Plover wandered exceptionally close and provided one of the best images here at this Kuala Muda high tide roost.

Just when I thought there was nothing else I could expect from the Sanderlings, one gradually made its way towards us. And I shuddered in anticipation for what is to come.

A wintering Sanderling may not possess much colouration. But there is beauty in simplicity and the individual dashing about this bleak coastline in front of me is undeniably beautiful. The sand had a colour tone dark enough to compliment the fair appeal of the Sanderling. It has been quite a day of birding especially with the broadbills and all at Pedu but the moment provided by this confiding Sanderling surpassed all else.

The roosting flocks became restless when the nearby fishermen prepare to venture out to sea again. When all the commotion could not be tolerated any longer, the waders took flight in unison. A mass of wings and feathers swirled across the coastal sky before vanishing beyond the horizon. Nothing remained but the reminiscence of an endearing little Sanderling.