Not an Owl; some of the other night birds

It's a common, and perfectly understandable, assumption that all nocturnal hunting birds must be owls. Most of us don't usually get a good look at these birds unless we happen upon them when they're trying to sleep in the daytime, while hoping to escape the notice of the noisy day birds which always want to move them on. Moreover, even if we do get a decent look, they still look rather owl-like - big eyes, soft plumage, delicately patterned plumage, often mottled or streaked for camouflage. These 'not owls' are the potoos of South and Central America, the Oilbird of northern South America, the nightjars and nighthawks, found across most of the world, the frogmouths of Australia and south-east Asia and the owlet-nightjars of New Guinea, plus a few nearby islands (including Australia). Each of these groups forms a Family, and until recently all were placed in the same Order, but in 2021 it was broadly agreed that each of these Families was better understood as a full Order in their own right (see here and find Version 11.2).

Hopefully you've read this far! If so, please persevere - that's pretty much the end of the taxonomy lesson, and the rest is just about these very interesting groups of birds.

Tawny Frogmouth Podargus strigoides near Canberra; they typically spend
the day in the open, relying on their impressive camouflage for protection.

While we're on frogmouths we might as well continue with them. There are 16 species, and through most of their extensive range, which stretches from Australia to India, they are rainforest dwellers, many of them very hard to find. However the Tawny Frogmouth is the exception, being a bird of drier forests and woodlands throughout Australia, including the arid inland, wherever there are trees and open ground for hunting. They are found in suburbia, including in all Australian capital cities, and I'm sure that they are the most familiar night birds to most Australians.

Tawny Frogmouth and large chick, about to fledge (indeed it flew just a day after this),
in a park near our Canberra home.

Despite the apparent similarities with owls, there are significant differences. Whereas owls have forward-looking eyes (like us), frogmouths' eyes are more on the side of their head, like most other birds. They have broad shallow beaks for scooping up food (insects, plus some frogs and mice, taken mostly from the ground), whereas an owl's beak is sharp and narrow for tearing up prey. Owls hunt primarily with their feet, which are powerful and taloned like a hawk's; a frogmouth's feet are comparatively weak and are not used to seize food. Much the same comments could be made about the other 'not owls' we'll be meeting today.

 

While these photos don't show it to best advantage (mostly because these birds didn't choose a well-matching branch to roost or nest on), the frogmouth's camouflage is remarkable. The streaks in the plumage can resemble cracks in bark to a remarkable degree. The head is held upright to reinforce the impression of a broken branch. The eyes are closed, though, if the bird is approached too closely, they will open to slits, and the head will turn ever so slowly to keep the intruder in sight.    

 

As the previous photo suggests, nests are very flimsy and placed on a horizontal branch or a flat fork.

Adult on nest, Narrabunda Hill, Canberra.

Sometimes old nests of other species are repurposed by frogmouths.
 

Tawny Frogmouth on old White-winged Chough nest, Mulligans Flat NR, Canberra.
It may just have been perching, but it was in November when I'd expect them to be breeding.

The three Australian/New Guinea species are all in the genus Podargus; Marbled and Papuan Frogmouths are found in both islands, while Tawnies are only in Australia. I find this surprising though, given that they occur almost to the tip of Cape York, just across the narrow Torres Strait from New Guinea. Going further north-west, the 13 Asian species are only found on the other side of Wallace's Line; all are smaller and restricted to rainforest.

Papuan Frogmouth P. papuensis, Centennial Lakes, Cairns, above and below.
This tropical species is found north from about Townsville to the tip of York Peninsula,
and throughout New Guinea. It is usually found along rainforest edges and in
drier rainforest, which is generally known as monsoon, or vine forest. This pair was
roosting in mangroves, where they were surprisingly hard to see.

The third Australian species, the Marbled Frogmouth P. ocellatus, is notoriously hard to find in its rainforest habitat. It has two very separate small Australian populations, on Cape York Peninsula, and in the border ranges of near-coastal NSW and Queensland, as well as throughout New Guinea.

It seems logical to me to go from frogmouths to potoos, though the latter are in a different Order, as we have seen, and only found in the American Neotropics. Whenever I see them though I am struck by how much they resemble frogmouths, though that's entirely due to adaptations to similar lifestyles. Like frogmouths they hunt from a perch, but unlike them they take prey almost exclusively from the air, and never from the ground. Their camouflage is just as good but rather than perch on horizontal branches they use vertical stumps or broken branches, positioned upright so as to seem like an extension of the stump.

Great Potoo Nyctibius grandis, Pantanal, south-western Brazil. This is the largest
potoo, up to 60cm long, and is found from south-eastern Brazil to southern Mexico.

The seven species are found between them in every Central and South American country, though they are most prevalent in the Amazon Basin.

The Long-tailed Potoo Nyctibius aethereus, here at Tambopata Reserve in the southern Peruvian
Amazon, is found throughout the Amazon basin, and in the southern Brazilian Atlantic forests.
I love how the white wing patch resembles lichen on a tree trunk!

Common Potoo Nyctibius griseus, Muyuna Lodge, northeastern Peru. It is found
almost throughout South America except for the far south and the higher Andes,
and in much of Central America.

They don't build a nest, simply laying a single egg in a depression on a branch, or on top of a stump. The pale chicks have their own camouflage, resembling a lichen-covered branch.

Common Potoo chick, Yasuní NP, Ecuadorian Amazon.

Great Potoo chick, Muyuna Lodge, Peru.

Unsurprisingly, I am a big fan of potoos, not to mention the amazing guides who can reliably spot them!

The smallest of these 'not owl' Orders is represented by just one species, the somewhat enigmatic Oilbird Steatornis caripensis, found along the slopes of the Andes and in the lowland forests of northern South America. While distantly related to the other Orders, it differs from those birds in almost every way except for being nocturnal.

Oilbird above a rainforest waterway in Yasuní NP, Ecuadorian Amazonia.
My friend and guide extraordinaire Juan Cardenas were in a canoe doing
reconnaissance for a tour when we saw what we thought was a nightjar above
our heads. When we arrived back at our lodge, we both realised what we'd
really seen, for the first time for both of us.

 

For a start, of all these 'non owls' only the Oilbird is fully vegetarian, living on fruits of palms and laurels. Along with the New Zealand Kakapo, a flightless parrot, it is the world's only nocturnal fruit-eating bird. It finds the fruit by night by smell, and can travel up to 120km from their roost to feed. Moreover it not only has the remarkable night-sight that we'd expect, but it also uses echo-location, like a microbat. This is because, like the bats, it breeds and largely roosts in caves, and needs the 'super power' to navigate in the total darkness. This is not unique among birds, but it is very rare - the only others that I am aware of using it are some swiftlets, which also nest in caves. If caves are not available, Oilbirds will also roost in deep rock crevices and ravines, and it has recently been discovered that they regularly roost in trees in the rainforest too.

Oilbird roost in a deep slot canyon, at the Quiscarrumi Bridge near Moyobamba
in northern Peru. The birds look like brown rice grains on the ledge
in shadow in the left foreground.

A closeup, somewhat hazy, view of the roosting Quiscarrumi Bridge Oilbirds.

Of the five 'non owl' orders in the torch light today, the delightful little owlet-nightjars form something of an outlier - in fact their closest relatives (though still distant) are the swifts and hummingbirds! They are essentially a New Guinea group, where are seven species. One of these extends to and throughout Australia, and there is an endemic species in each of the Indonesian Moluccas and New Caledonia. (There was also a flightless New Zealand species which became extinct in about 1400 when rats arrived in New Zealand with humans.)

 

The elegant little Australian Owlet-nightjar Aegotheles cristatus (also found in the savannas of southern New Guinea) is less than 25cm long and is found in open country throughout the continent. Its musical churring call is a familiar night sound, including in suburbia near bushland. It is the only open country member of the group, the rest being rainforest birds. It hunts insects like a flycatcher does, taking off from a perch to seize prey in the air or from a branch or the ground.

Australian Owlet-nightjar catching the sun in a eucalypt hollow in the
Australian National Botanic Gardens in Canberra. This is typically how we
see them, though I've also seen them roosting on a branch. They rely heavily
on such tree hollows for both roosting and breeding.

Finally there is the biggest family of 'non owls', the nightjars (which includes the American nighthawks). There are 96 species found on every vegetated continent, quite a few being inter-continental migrants. They live in forest and deserts and big cities. All are superb aerialists, hunting insects by sight in apparent complete darkness, though many can also be seen hunting in the dusk, when their elegantly long wings and aerial virtuosity are there to be admired. I have enjoyed many an evening in camp watching a nightjar hunting, swooping past in the gathering twilight, working up and down the open area of the campground, or flashing repeatedly over a pool or river, intercepting the insects rising from it. And listening! Nightjars have the most amazing calls, wild rising, accelerating bursts of gobbling and bubbling. The Large-tailed Nightjar of northern Australia sounds like someone repeatedly hitting a hollow log with an axe.

Blackish Nightjars Nyctipolus nigrescens, eastern foothills of the Andes in
northern Ecuador. Roosting on or near the ground is typical of nightjars,
and this one specialises in rocks or fallen tree trunks.

And now for the very embarrassing and embarrassed confession. I have quite a few photos of nightjars, some of them reasonably acceptable (though you may judge that below), but, but... I have never managed to take one of any of the three Australian species, though I've seen them all. The one I've seen most often is the Spotted Nightjar which occurs across most of the inland of the mainland Australia, in dry open habitats. By day you typically you first see them when they flush from the ground. They spend the day roosting, often in the shade, among ground litter or rocks, where they effectively disappear, courtesy of their superbly camouflaged plumage. I have watched carefully to see where they've landed (they often don't go far) and cautiously approached to get a photo - and have failed to find them every single time! I know. As I said, embarrassing. Let's move along to some that I have managed to see (with help on each occasion I should add), in Africa and the Neotropics of America.

Common Pauraque Nyctidromus albicollis (the origin of the common name seems to be
something of a mystery) is the commonest American nightjar pretty much throughout its range,
which includes most of Central and South America. The far-flung sites of
these two photos gives some indication of this. The one above was roosting near
our room at Muyuna Lodge on the edge of Amazonia in northern Peru...

... while this one was by the track in the northern Panatanal, south-western Brazil.
They are often encountered on tracks or roads at night.

Also in the northern Pantanal is this one, which I am very cautiously suggesting
is a Rufous Nightjar Antrostomus rufus, but without much confidence.
At the time it was called as a Little Nightjar Setopagis parvula, but
that doesn't convince me either. Any suggestions welcomed.
(Frankly it doesn't much resemble anything in the Pantanal field guide!)

I mentioned earlier that nightjars often hunt insects over water, so it's no surprise to see them along rivers, though the sheer numbers of these Sand-coloured Nighthawks Chordeiles rupestris along the Manu River in the southern Peruvian Amazon basin astonished me. (Nighthawk is a name used in the US for nightjars that are members of the genus Chordeile).

This was just a small part of a loose roosting flock.

A closeup of a couple of members of the same flock, roosting on flood debris.
It is found along river corridors in the western Amazon basin.

More surprising was seeing this Lesser Nighthawk Chordeiles acutipennis on the beach in Costa Rica, though apparently this is one of its normal habitats while overwintering there. It breeds in deserts in the south-western US and Mexico, and then flies south to Central and South America for the rest of the year, where it prefers watery habitats.

Lesser Nighthawk roosting on driftwood at the mouth of the Tarcoles River,
eastern Costa Rica.

Some nightjar males have spectacularly long and elaborate tail feathers or flight feathers for display purposes; here are some, though the first couple are unfortunately for us not adult males.

Fledgling Ladder-tailed Nightjar Hydropsalis climacocerca, Yasuní NP, Ecuador.
It is found throughout the Amazon Basin. When older, especially if it's a male,
it will have a curious tail structure, with the longest feathers being the central and
outermost ones. I confess that this doesn't say 'ladder' to me, but that comes from the
translation of the Latin name (not that that helps us of course). More importantly,
males fan the tails while flying slowly low over water to attract a female's attention.
It evidently worked for this one's parents!

Scissor-tailed Nightjar Hydropsalis torquata, Peruibe, on the coast north of
Sao Paulo, Brazil. Adult males have a pair of long slender outer tail feathers
which often break, so this could be such an unfortunate male, or a female.
Oddly the tail doesn't seem to feature in courtship displays, which
take place on the ground in an open space, while he claps his wings overhead!
This one was roosting in coastal heath just above the ground.

  

Pennant-winged Nightjar Caprimulgus vexillarius, Murchison Falls NP, Uganda.
This bird seemed to be injured, perhaps by another car. The extraordinary
pennants are hugely extended second primary feathers (ie growing from
about the centre of the wing) which grow longer each year, being shed
with the annual moult after breeding. They are used in courtship displays both
in flight and while perched on a rock or termite mound, with his back to the female.

Standard-winged Nightjar Caprimulgus longipennis, Ngaoundaba Ranch,
central Cameroon. His camouflage is exquisite. He is facing right, with his
head just under the two green leaves at the centre right of the photo. His
ornamentation also features a greatly extended flight feather on each
wing, though in this case much of the length comprises a bare shaft,
with the two black 'standards' at the tip, and clearly visible here.
The standards trail behind him in normal flight but are held straight up
when displaying, which occurs in leks, with many males gathered to compete.
It must be a spectacular event!

Lyre-tailed Nightjar Uropsalis lyra, Mindo Valley, north-western Ecuador.
This unlikely beauty is found along most of the Andes from Ecuador to northern
Argentina. Its behaviour doesn't seem to be well known, though males apparently
also form leks, competing with females through their flight display. To this end the
males' tails are up to 60cm long.

And I think that's probably enough, but hopefully you've been able to find something of interest here. One day I'll do a post on birds that are owls, but the not-owls are, I think, also fascinating and diverse. Thanks for bearing with me, and them.

Tawny Frogmouths by the Murrumbidgee River south of Canberra.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 19 OCTOBER
for more on Costa Rica - some animals

 

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The Road to Titicaca; Peru's high southern Andes

Hello and welcome to my first posting of 2023! I know a couple of readers who'll roll their eyes at another non-Australian post, but the truth is that it's more than six months since the last one, and that was from Africa. With one thing and another it's been a long time since we felt able to go overseas and I'm feeling nostalgic so, dear reader, you can either bear with me or come back next time, when I'll welcome you just as warmly!

However 'warmly' is not a word I'd apply to the fabulously wild and rugged Andean highlands of far south-eastern Peru, where Peru and Bolivia meet in the middle of famed Lake Titicaca. 'Lake Titicaca'.... one of those near-fabled places that I'd always wanted to see. 

The red arrow indicates Lake Titicaca; even at this scale the size of it is evident.

Our route began at Arequipa, bottom left of the map, passed through the mighty Salinas and
Aguada Blanca National Reserve and took us to Chivay, the detour to the north-west.
Thence east on the approximate route shown to Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca.

Arequipa is Peru's second-largest city, but with a million people is a village alongside Lima's 11 million plus. At 2300 metres above sea level it is equivalent to the highest point of Australia, but of foothill status compared with the elevations we were going to - and indeed to the volcanoes which provide its setting. Its city centre, a blend of colonial and indigenous architectural styles, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Volcano Chachani from Arequipa; more than 20km away, it is over 6000 metres high.

From here we drove through the superb Salinas and Aguada Blanca National Reserve, which includes Chachani. This is an enormous reserve of nearly 370,000 hectares, protecting puna or altiplano landscapes on a dry cold high plateau between two branches of the Andes, in northern Chile and Argentina, and in Peru. The area is sparsely inhabited by traditional communities who herd alpacas and llamas.

Alpacas in a typical Aguada Blanca landscape.

Largely barren hillslopes in the national reserve.

There are virtually no trees and the plants that do occur here must be really tough, like the harsh grasses that the Alpacas rely on, and these cacti.

But even here there is animal life too, and among the things I'd most wanted to see were wild Vicuñas, the apparent wild ancestors of the Alpacas, not easy to see in the wild, though numbers have rebounded reassuringly from the 1970s when indiscriminate hunting brought numbers down to about 6000 in all of South America. They are slender, weighing less than half as much as the lower elevation Guanaco (ancestor of the Llama). Their fine wool is highly prized; when the Incas ruled, only royalty was permitted to wear garments made from it.

Wild Vicuñas Lama vicugna in Salinas and Aguada Blanca, above and below.

Once a year the herds are captured and shorn by the communities, then released; in times past
they would simply have killed them and taken the wool.

Variable Hawk Geranoaetus polyosoma on the roof of a roadside service centre in
the midst of the puna. This species is widespread along the Andes.

Most of the obvious life here though is associated with the bofedales, the high swamplands. Here are a few roadside examples.

Andean Lapwing Vanellus resplendens, a high altitude plover found along the Andean
chain as far south as northern Argentina.

Andean Geese Chloephaga melanoptera,which are found only in the southern Andes
above 3000 metres. For more on the South American 'geese' see here.

A Giant Coot Fulica gigantea on its huge nest, which comprises vegetation piled
up until it is resting on the bottom in up to a metre of water. The bird itself is also
huge (at least for a coot), weighing up to 2.5k. They are found at high altitudes (nearly always
above 3500 metres, but up to 6500) primarily in southern Peru and Bolivia.

From here we continued north-west to Chivay and the amazing Colca Canyon, but I've already featured that before; you can read about it here, where you'll find lots more photos and information about the puna habitat and many more of its birds and plants.

However I am going to mention again the extraordinary Abra Patapampa (abra is a pass), reputedly the highest pass in all of South America that is accessed by a sealed road. At 4900 metres above sea level it is way above the tree line, and the scenery is like nothing I've seen, vast and unimaginably bleak and rugged. I'm fortunate enough not to be unduly troubled by altitude, but this is the highest I've ever been with my feet on the ground. The short walk to the lookout platform (Mirador de los Andes, or Mirador de los Volcanoes - mirador is a lookout) was enough to wear me out! I wouldn't have missed it though, gazing over an apocalyptic landscape to distant volcanoes. Needless to say, the women selling home-made souvenirs were untroubled by the thin air, and of course they had walked to get here.

Looking back to the south across the rock and sand landscape to Volcano Chucure.

Out to the west, we were gazing at (from the left) Volcanoes Ampato (6300m),
Sabancayo (6000m) and Hualca Hualca (6000m).

Nor is all the vapour in the air just cloud; here is a plume of volcanic smoke arising
above the cloud from the active vent of Sabancayo.

From here the road descends in all directions; ours is to the east.

Mountain Caracara Phalcoboenus megalopterus by the roadside approaching Lake Titicaca.
Caracaras are atypical scavenging falcons; this one is found along the Andes south
from the top of Peru.

You may be getting impatient to actually get to Lake Titicaca by now, but there was just one more exciting roadside sighting before we arrived at Puno. 

Short-eared Owl Asio flammeus watching us from a fence post. This is not of itself
particularly unusual - it is found across most of the northern hemisphere and southern
South America, and is sometimes cited as the having the widest range of any bird species on earh.
However our very experienced local guides had never seen one in this
part of the world. In Peru it is found mostly (but still rarely) on the north coast.
I gather it caused quite a stir when our guides reported it.

And so to Puno, a city of 150,000 people on the shores of Lake Titicaca, crowded into a narrow plain and now sprawling up the mountainsides. This is a hard cold landscape

The flat icy land outside of Puno, photographed from the bus on the morning
of our departure.

Puno and the nearby city of Juliaca are notoriously restive and, while we were there, agitated demonstrations were taking place all around our hotel, apparently relating to some unionists who'd been arrested and were being held nearby. We kept as clear as we could and didn't feel threatened. On a darker note we heard some grim stories about organised crime violence based on smuggling across the lake from Bolivia. 

 

As I write this the area is the subject of a declared state if emergency following riots connected with the ousting of President Castillo; last week at least 17 people were killed in Juliaca in clashes between demonstrators and police. This is not the place to argue the rights and wrongs, and I'm not the person to do it, though it is topical to this posting.

Lake Titicaca is the largest lake in South America by volume, and disputedly by area (I must say that Lake Maraicabo in Venezuela does seem to have a stronger claim there). It is 177km long with an average width of 56km. The main western basin has an average depth of 135 metres, fed by five major river systems and many smaller one. It contains 41 islands. In Bolivia the Rio Desaguardero flows out of it and feeds other lakes. With large waterbird populations, many endemic fish species, the famous flightless Titicaca Grebe and the huge Titicaca Water Frog (up to 50cm long and weighing a kilogram) it has been a Ramsar site of international wetland significance since 1998. 

I find that, like the ocean, a large lake is hard to meaningfully photograph!
These attempts were from a hill on Taquile Island.

The Uros or Uru people originated in Bolivia, where many still live on the lake shore. Many of them now live on floating 'islands' of bundles of giant sedges near Puno, where they rely heavily on visiting tourists. The sedges are also used to make boats.

The floating island that we visited, above and below, during our lake excursion,
which is pretty much mandatory! They are anchored to the lake bed with eucalyptus poles.

Reed boat, made of bundles of the giant sedge Schoenoplectus californicus.

However, this is a natural history blog, so I'll end with a few of the animals - mostly birds - that we encountered on and by the lake, starting with the one I was most looking forward to seeing.

Titicaca Grebe Rollandia microptera, whose stubby little wings (even by grebe standards)
render it completely flightless. While Lake Titicaca is the core of its range,
it is also found on some other nearby high altitude lakes. It is sadly Endangered,
and numbers are dropping steadily and worryingly, now down to only about 2000
birds. The widespread use of fixed fishing nets seems to be the main problem.

The two ducks that follow are much more widespread.

The Andean Duck Oxyura ferruginea is found along almost the entire
length of the Andes from Colombia to Tierra del Fuego (with an odd
gap in northern Peru). A diving duck, it is closely related to, and very similar to,
the Australian Blue-billed Duck O. australis.

The attractive Cinnamon Teal Spatula cyanoptera has an even wider range,
through large parts of the Americas. They dabble rather than dive for their dinner.

Wilson's Phalarope Spatula cyanoptera. Despite them being waders, I generally think of
phalaropes as seabirds (though I've hardly ever seen them) but this is a
Southern Hemisphere perspective. They are very odd among waders in spending the
non-breeding season at sea, and that is when see them (or not) in Australia.
In the breeding season they frequent lakes and marshlands.
They spin in the water to create an eddy, and capture small prey drawn into it.

Once out in the deep water there were virtually no birds to be seen.

American Kestrel Falco sparverius over Taquile Island.
This little falcon has a huge range over the entire Americas,
except for the rainforests and the frozen far north.

Before embarking on our boat trip on the lake we spent some productive time by the reed beds at the edge, where we saw a couple of reed specialists that I'd previously enjoyed elsewhere but never managed to lay lens on. They both have convoluted English names and between them represent the two huge primitive families of passerines that dominate South America (but nowhere else in the world).

Wren-like Rushbird Phleocryptes melanops is found in western Peru, and
throughout the southern cone of the continent wherever there are rushes and
reedbeds in marshes and on lake shores. This is one of the ovenbirds, or funariids.

    

Many-coloured Rush-tyrant Tachuris rubrigastra has a similar distribution
and habitat to the rushbird. This is one of the numerous South American
tyrant flycatchers.

And while we watched the reedbeds, we were delighted when these little characters emerged to graze, though they were shy and wouldn't let us approach.

Common Yellow-toothed Cavies Galea musteloides.
They are fairly closely related to Guinea Pigs, though belong to another genus,
and probably didn't contribute genes to the modern pets (and, in the Andes, food animals).

So perhaps a fairly random posting, but aren't they all? I hope you found something of interest here, but if you're just hanging out for more Australian subject matter, please come back next time.

 

I hope that 2023 is being kind to you so far, and naturally wonderful! 

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 9 FEBRUARY

 

I love to receive your comments and in future will be notifying you personally by email when a new posting appears, if you'd like me to. All current subscribers have been added to this mailing list and have already been contacted. This will mean one email every three weeks at the current rate of posting. I promise never to use the list for any other purpose and will never share it.
Should you wish to be added to it, just send me an email at calochilus51@internode.on.net. You can ask to be removed from the list at any time,or could simply mark an email as Spam, so you won't see future ones.