Peru Manu Part II: The Lowland Rainforest Aug 10—19, 2008
Posted by Steve Hilty
Steve Hilty
Steve Hilty is the senior author of A Guide to the Birds of Colombia, and the recently published Birds of Venezuela, both by Princeton University Press. Other credits inclu...Related Trips
Ok, I've said it. The Manu lowlands were hot and humid on this trip, maybe more so than on some previous trips, but then, it wouldn't be an Amazonian rainforest without heat and humidity. The good news: no south polar cold fronts that bring cold temperatures and days of rain. We experienced, in short, just what one would expect in the world's largest rainforest—a couple of brief rains and some muggy weather.
Mornings at the two canopy platforms provided opportunities to see species that one would rarely see from the forest floor, and opportunities to witness little insights into the natural history of species that once could only have been imagined from 40 m. below—a Bare-necked Fruitcrow fashioning her small round nest of bristling white lichens, or a tiny Yellow-browed Tody-Flycatcher building a small hanging nest 50 m. up in the highest part of the crown of a Ceiba tree. We watched a pair of White-lored Euphonias struggling with the decision of where to place their nest—she in epiphytes on the side of a large limb, and he in similar epiphytes on another limb. On the third day they were nowhere to be seen. Did a spat result? But on the sixth day they were back again—building at her site. The male, his lesson learned perhaps, dutifully made repeated trips bringing fine, dry fibers.
The canopy platforms yielded much more than domestic activities, however. Birds large and small entered these large Ceiba trees for various lengths of time and, doubtless, with various motives—woodcreepers to forage on bark surfaces; tanagers and honeycreepers to examine leaf surfaces for insects or to check for fruit; Cream-colored and Scaly-breasted woodpeckers, lured by playback of nonexistent competitors; Scarlet Macaws, perhaps by curiosity at the strange earthlings standing in their midst; and Curl-crested Aracaries in search of fruit or on other unfathomable errands. Others flew past the trees en route to unknown destinations—Amazonian Oropendolas perhaps to a colony, parrots and parakeets to distant fruiting trees. A Black Hawk-Eagle, his cover exposed and now mercilessly harassed by four protesting Red-and-green Macaws, beat a hasty retreat across the oxbow lake and disappeared into the shadowy forest in an attempt to rid himself of those pesky tattletales.
Throughout the morning at these canopy platforms one can stand at the edge of the platform railing, peer far downward into thick vegetation, palm fronts, and clutter below, or gaze across a nearby oxbow lake, and listen to one of the world's greatest symphonies—the dawn chorus of perhaps 300 species of birds spread below, a mostly unseen symphony, but vibrant and alive nonetheless, with each member responding to hunger, predators, and mates, as they sing and search for food and carry out life cycles that have persisted for tens of thousands of years. We are but the blink of an eye here, brief witness to this cornucopia of life pulsing all around us.
The Manu region allows us to experience a true Amazonian wilderness and many facets of this great region in an all-encompassing way that includes forest trails, the forest canopy, quiet lakes, rivers, clay river banks, mineral licks, bamboo, clearings, and gardens. Yet, all of this is possible with a level of comfort almost unimaginable just a decade or two ago—catamarans for languid mornings on oxbow lakes, canopy platforms, and sleek longboats with shaded roofs, comfortable seats, and outboard power. We need bring only our curiosity and an open mind to enjoy this greatest of all wildernesses.