Elegant Trogon in Florida Canyon

I will soon be going back to Madera Canyon, located on a sky island in southern Arizona, not far from the Mexican border.  It's in a mountain range that has high elevation ponderosa pine trees but is surrounded by low Sonoran Desert, hence the reference to an island.  Every spring, many migratory birds pass through this area while other unique birds like the yellow-eyed junco and Arizona woodpecker call this home all year long.  But one summer visitor, the elegant trogon, has fascinated me since I became interested in birding and bird photography.

He’s quite uncommon in the state, let alone in a park that lies at the very northern edge of his geographic range.  He’s really a Mexican bird, related to the quetzal, with a southern range that goes as far south as Costa Rica.  In the summer he’s known to come into southeastern Arizona for nesting, and Madera Canyon might be as far north as he flies.

So what’s really the big deal about the elegant trogon?   Besides the amazing fact that he’s a tropical bird hanging out in our arid state, he’s downright gorgeous.  Even for someone like myself that finds beauty in photographing plain grackles and house finches, he outshines any bird I’ve seen wild in Arizona.   At first glance you notice he wears the colors of the Italian flag, with alternating stripes of green, white and red.  But his colors are too brilliant for a mere flagpole - his torso blazes a fire engine red while his head and his neck shimmer in emerald green, calling a truce at his chest’s bold, white stripe.  His dark eyes are brilliantly ringed in yellow, and depending on your view, you don’t know whether to call his orange beak cardinal-like or eagle-like.  His backside is the same emerald green as his head, and his wing and tail feathers are gray.  But of course his tail isn’t mundane - a closer look shows these feathers are a detailed combination of black and white stripes in a damask-like pattern.

I was actually able to photograph him, once, over a year ago, on a very lucky first-time outing to the Madera Canyon area in late winter.  It turns out that a few solitary males actually winter in these mountains, waiting for female partners to return in late spring.  After a fruitless day of searching for one in that canyon, I followed a hunch of a reported sighting and took a short and easy detour to nearby Florida Canyon before the sun set.  Arriving at the trailhead parking area, I immediately noticed how quiet it was, with only one other car in the dirt lot.  If there’s a report of an elegant trogon around here why aren’t there any buses?   I hadn’t done enough research to know exactly where the trail went, but I started up it anyway - if there was going to be a sighting it would happen soon, I told myself.

I quickly had to forge a flowing stream that was meandering through a forest of sycamores, oaks and cottonwoods.   The sun was quite low in the sky, with its late light glowing through the trees’ canopy. Deciding to capture this scene in a picture, I stopped down the camera to improve the contrast.  But just as I focused my right eye through the viewfinder, I heard on my left a swift and singular hwoot - a sudden, light suction of air.  My left eye opened to see that a large bird had landed thirty feet away in a tree.  But it wasn’t just any bird, it was THE elegant trogon to which I had sheepishly devoted a day.

I wanted to burst out with a, “Whoopee!,” but there was not enough time or oxygen for that.  Pivoting the camera, I snapped a shot.  Crap, the telephoto was adjusted for a wide-angle view of the forest canopy.  Zooming in, I got two more shots.  But I was still a bit far from the trophy for my 250mm lens.  My trogon remained still, perched upright and elegant, eyeing me warily, as I slowly approached him.  I was barely two steps closer when he flew away, sailing out of sight into that ceiling of light I had just admired.

I was immediately overwhelmed with the joy of that brief moment, not knowing whether to jump in the air or kneel with prayers of thanks.  The emotions brought blissful tears and a feeling that I can only describe as full of grace.  For-better-or-for-worse, the camera was still set for bright light shots, so I composed myself and captured those tree pictures.  It turns out the settings were a little dark for the trogon, but in the end his photos were fine.  Heck, how could they be anything but awesome - they were the portraits of an elegant trogon, after all!

I was still wiping my eyes when I saw two people coming down from higher on the trail.  Their reaction to my shout of, “I just saw an elegant trogon!” was as surprised and excited as I'd have expected - and it wasn't just because they were birders.  After I pointed out the direction he had flown just a minute before, we scanned the trees and spotted him briefly, watching him fly hurriedly and deeper into the woods downstream and closer to the parking lot.  For a few minutes, we checked out the trees and scrub surrounding the cars, but we didn’t find him.  Saying goodbye to the couple, I returned to the spot of my sightings.  But it was still and empty, quiet except for the babbling stream under the trees.

When I returned to the cars, the hikers were gone, but that single parked car was still there, keeping mine company.  Didn't it belong to that couple?  Or were they still somewhere around, on the trail of the absconded elegant trogon?   Maybe I should find them!  Never mind I thought, I don't think my beginner's luck could get any better.

My first wide shot of the elegant trogon.

A crop of the above shot.

My second shot, cropped.

My final shot, cropped.  He's quite a beauty.

The scene I was composing near the creek in Florida Canyon when I heard the elegant trogon land to my left.  I believe it's a type of oak.

Florida Canyon's very empty parking area with my vehicle and the tree canopy behind where I spotted the elegant trogon.

The road to Florida Canyon, with a view of the surrounding mountains in the late day light.  It will forever be a special place for me, where I first saw an elegant trogon in the wild.