Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Birding heartaches and joys...

Two Saturdays ago...


My chest tightened. It felt like someone is tugging hard at it. I put my hand over my chest. I could feel my heart racing hard and fast, thudding against my palm. My breathing became laboured. I was breathing very hard. I was out of breath. I gulped the air as slow as I can. As gentle as I could.

I could see that my hands were shaking. I opened up my palm. It was pale. I clenched it. I unclenched it. In my oxygen deprived lungs, I reached inside my pocket. With unsteady hand, I took out my BB and scrolled hubby's no.

Self : I felt like throwing my camera...
Hubby : Huh?
Self : It's here...just under the bridge...
Hubby : So, did you get a photo...
Self : (voice shaking in agony)...yaaa...but all blurrrrrrrrr...it's just too fast...too quick for my cam...


My eyes started to burn. I just could not believe it. It was a first time for me. I could hardly believe that I nearly shed a tear. I nearly reduced to crying. Just because of her...the White-Browed Shortwing. Our recent find. The cause of our sleepless nights.







On our way back home, I could not help talking endlessly about the shortwing. Hubby patiently listened to my repetitive narration on the missed opportunities. I guessed he could see the disappointment written all over my face. He could hear the frustration in my voice. But when hubby suggested that we do another trip the next day, thrilled that I was, I did not give him the thumbs up right away.

For one, I would be breaking the rule...no birding on Sunday or a day before work day. The other one would be the kids. They would definitely do not take this into stride. So, we devised an idea. We would take them along for a half day affair at the mountain. And to our surprise but I have to admit much to our delight they flatly rejected the idea.

So, in order to compensate our absence on Sunday, we treated the kids to Dinner at Tuaran Chicken Rice and later got them their food supplies. I was happy with the turn of event and my obsession with the shortwing took me to another level when I dreamt of it that night...


On Sunday...


On our way up, I could not hide my excitement. I chatted non-stopped and when I do stopped I chanted the shortwing name in silence. I willed it to come out and showed itself. I have to see it again. I have to get a photo of it. That's my mission.

While hubby went into the trail to look for the Whitehead Trogon, I lingered around the stream around the park. It has become my favourite spot ever since I spotted not only the White-Browed Shortwing but also the endemic Crimson-Headed Partridge.

It was not long before I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Being extra careful, being extra quite, I think I even stopped breathing completely while clicking furiously at my shutter.

I was on cloud nine when I managed to nail these photos. The best that my camera could reach. The best that my camera could give me.



...The White-Browed Shortwing...Brachypteryx montana...








...The Eyebrowed Jungle Flycatcher...Rhinomyias gularis...





...an endemic that is highly territorial...it will chase off other birds that went into its "claimed" spot...



...The Indigo Flycatcher...Eumyias indigo...



...saw one of it bathing the day before...it was a treat watching them taking turns dipping in the cool water...





...I heard hubby called out to me..."take both of them, you're at the right angle"...only then I realised that both of them preening at the bank of the stream...



To be able to appreciate the sheer beauty of these winged ones among us...
...is a noble act...
To be able to see and captured their sheer beauty on camera...
...are life's small pleasures...