While walking to school each morning, I imagine bumping into Dr, Doolittle as there is such an abundance of birds. There’s usually a pair of vermilion flycatchers, glowing like Dorothy ruby red slippers on a wire. Obnoxiously loud mitred parrots chatter in the palms, trying to create new homes as they are refugees with wings being displaced due to deforestation. Deforestation to raise McCows, a result of American’s meat addiction. Shiny cow birds and saffron finches hop on the grass, croaking ground doves imitate frogs.
But something peculiar stopped me in my tracks last Wednesday, causing me to clock in late and get a warning notice from HR. On top of a light poll was a large unfettered hawk. Hovering in front of this predatory bird was a tiny hummingbird, observing the hawk like a miniature drone.
They were looking eye to eye. The hummingbird looked pissed. Something was wrong.
Did the hawk eat the hummingbird’s mate?
Since a typical hawk weighs 160 times that of a hummer, the bird would barely be a marshmallow bit in his bowl of Lucky Charms. So… probably not.
Or was the hummingbird seeking help?
Some hummingbird species scout a place to build a nest near a hawk, seeking protection from menacing jays. Maybe.
Only mother nature knows for sure what those two birds were buzzing about.
That was one of the reasons I partook in The Great Bird Count on Saturday. The Great Bird Count is when regular folks around the world count birds they see that day, in attempt to create an inventory of what species are still fluttering around.
Since I live in a country with almost as many birds as there are potatoes (Peru has four thousand spuds, almost two thousand birds), I had many places to look for our feathered friends. Instead of heading near the hawk and hummingbird’s light pole, or the Pantanos de Villa bird sanctuary, I ventured the Chorrillos fish market.
This rustic and aromatic building is the hip hangout for frequent fliers, just like the lounge at an airport. Different birds hang out at the market before continuing a long flight or catching dinner.
This Inca Tern (below) is about four hour drive from his home in Paracas. But flying time is different. Since a bird doesn’t have a driver licence or a frequent flyer account, how long would it take to fly?
Depending on the bird species, flight speeds vary. The equation that calculates flight speed considers the lift force of wings, something determined by the wing area and air pressure. If there is nothing to scroll on TikTok, you can read more about the speed calculations of 138 bird species.
This Black Crowned Night Heron looks like his boarding gate was changed.
In a nutshell (or should I say eggshell) bird flying speeds fall into three groups: those that are prey are the slowest, those with a mission are the fastest (like divers and hunters), and the rest set their cruise control to fly with the flow.
Along with birds, Peru is also a place to spot beetles, not the creepy ones…well, I’m sure there’s a few in the jungle– but Lima is infested with the VW bug.
Since Peru does not have junkyards, old cars like never die. They are reused more times than Chinese gutter oil. I live next to a mechanic that is a hive for these collectables. Many are held together with bungee cords and prayers, others with tape and fiberglass patches, all coated with multiple layers of paint that have lost their luster like an old wheat penny. Here are a few bugs I spotted yesterday within a few blocks of my home.
Back to the fish market.
I bought a fish at the market, one too big for a pelican’s mouth. The fish monger filleted a pargo rojo into some hefty chunks for a hearty finish stew, which I made after I was tired counting birds and beetles.
I don’t think she was counting birds.