Mike in the Wild

I wanted to write an elegy, a serious reflection on watching a black-headed grosbeak die on my porch.  There was the thud, and the plop, and the ruffles, not to mention the tiny yellow feathers, when the bird hit the window.  There were my exclamations and futile attempts to call a bird rescue center, if one even existed in my mountain town.  But mostly there were the painful seconds and minutes that slowly ticked as the grosbeak stopped its desperate attempts to fly and succumbed to whatever serious internal injuries it suffered when it thought the bright reflection of my forested front yard was a safe space to fly and feed and live out this part of its summer. As I grasped for an appropriate funeral and as if on queue, the Laurel and Hardy of my yard, an acorn woodpecker and a Woodhouse's scrub jay, appeared on the scene to distract me.  The clownish woodpecker squawked because it wanted to feed on suet, the smart aleck jay squawked because it wanted one more peanut handed out,

All went very well with my Jake tour of duty - he was his normal affectionate, playful, hungry, pooping, peeing jock-like self every time I checked in.   My visits to my vacationing friends' three-year old indoor cat, Jake, were by 9 am every morning, so I had to fill their backyard stray's food and water early.  Apparently this outside cat comes around dinnertime, so I never saw Bella, as she's been named. Yesterday, I noticed as I was checking all the door locks just before leaving, that something had gotten into Bella's food bowl in the twenty minutes since I'd filled the empty container.  It appeared as if a visitor had made a running leap into the table-top bowl as there was an impact crater-like depression and scattered bits of kibble about.  Who did this?   Another cat, a roof rat, a bird?  I needed to find out, but as I was running late for that day's other appointments, it would have to wait until tomorrow.  But my bet was on the starlings: the noisy c

My spring visit to Peru gave me a fount of inspiring material to publish.  And my last stop on my adventure - two days and one night in Lima, a sprawling South American capital city - was surprisingly not a disappointment in that regard either.  Like in every big city, house sparrows and rock pigeons populate the urban landscape.  But a visit to a local landmark, the Larco Museum, reminded me why I started writing about the natural world in the first place: there are new and fascinating wildlife discoveries in every corner we look. The Larco Museum displays a wide range of pre-Columbian art and craft work from most of the native cultures that called Peru home.  Since the power and expanse of the Inca people was a recent phenomena when Francisco Pizarro conquered their empire, many other indigenous populations left a more extensive treasure trove of artifacts to admire today.  At the Larco, both elegant and commonplace pieces from all these cultures, including the Moche, Chimu and Hua

Peru's Sacred Valley lies along the Urumbamba River from Pisac to Machu Picchu and is a longtime agricultural heartland for the area.  The Incas established their capital in the nearby city of Cusco, leaving a vast archaeological record marked by irrigated terraces and town sites.   The area is a popular destination for tourists who want to see the ruins, culture and spectacular Andean scenery.    Whether hiking the original Incan trail or taking a break in a Spanish colonial plaza, wildlife enthusiasts are bound to encounter some beautiful bird species among the equally tantalizing cultural attractions.  While all visitors are thrilled to see their first llamas and alpacas - domesticated versions of wild guanacos and vicuñas, respectively - birders will especially enjoy seeing the swallows, flickers, sparrows and hummingbirds that have called this corner of the Andes Mountains home longer than anyone. Sacsayhuamán archaeological site above Cusco. It was a pre-Columbian fo

Highest on almost everyone's wish list in the rain forest was spotting monkeys.  Of course seeing a wide range of exotic and tropical flora was expected, as was the amazing variety of butterflies and birds.  And no one was disappointed with the jungle scenery.  But Wild Watch Peru's three-day trip from Cusco to a corner of Amazonia couldn't guarantee an encounter with our simian cousins in the wild.  Our guides certainly looked for monkeys on our approximately 90km descent through high mountain cloud forests into the lower jungle environment.   Our two-night stay at idyllic Guadalupe Lodge, nestled near Manu National Park's wilderness, didn't provide an opportunity either.  A round trip river boat trip on the Madre de Dios River, a tributary of the Amazon, struck out too.  Even our muddy walk through dense forest to Machuhuassy Lake left us longing for a primate encounter. However, thanks to a stop at Dos Loritos, a wildlife rescue and rehabilitation center (cen

A visit to the Peruvian Amazon almost certainly involves navigating one of the massive river's tributaries.  On my recent trip to the area I explored a tiny section of the upper Madre de Dios river as part of Wild Watch Peru's three-day Manu Short Trip.  It's a savory taste of the rain forest on an easy two-night excursion from the bustling city of Cusco in the Andes.   Rivers drain tremendous volumes of water through the greater Amazon basin, as the relatively flat land welcomes moisture collected in the high Andes Mountains to the east .  The Madre de Dios carves a path through these jungle landscapes, all the while creating frequently changing channels that are bordered by rocky beaches or clay cliffs.  Frequently these channels loop and cross, often creating new waterways.  The old, untraveled course becomes either a swamp, like much of the terrain, or what's called an oxbow lake. One such lake I had the pleasure to visit in the area was Machuhuassy Lake (refere