27 Sep Dominican Republic Favorite Bird Sightings
Blue water lapped across my feet, squishing white sand between my toes as I strolled down Playa Dorada beach on my first evening in the Dominican Republic. Golden rays highlighted lush forest on the shore across the cove. A cool breeze tempered the heat of those rays on skin. I understood the allure that had drawn the many sunbathers strewn across the sand and water around me, sipping from cocktail umbrella-garnished drinks. My own interest, however, lay in the country’s myriad habitats, from low-lying beaches such as this to the tallest mountain in the Caribbean, helping to support a diverse flora and fauna.
A Gray Kingbird caught my eye as it circled wide above the cove’s calm waters and I followed it to a cluster of trees where the beach transitioned to the more manicured grounds of my hotel. Tapping sounds of a nearby woodpecker caught my attention as I approached and I caught my first views of a Hispaniolan Woodpecker, one of the island’s 33 endemic species. More tapping in another direction alerted me to the fact that there was another Hispaniolan Woodpecker nearby. Then a tussle broke out between yet another Hispaniolan Woodpecker and the Gray Kingbird I’d followed, sending the two birds to branches on opposite ends of a sprawling seagrape tree.
It didn’t take long to realize there was a high concentration of Hispaniolan Woodpeckers to be observed from the balcony of my hotel room. At one point I counted 7 of them clustered on the crownshaft of a palm, all plucking away at an ample supply of fruit. Never before had I seen so many woodpeckers of any species sharing such tight space. It seemed they were choosing to live together, and yet, or maybe because of this, they squabbled incessantly.
The BirdsCaribbean conference, where I introduced my soon to be released Recovering Caribbean Nature book, was the excuse that had lured me to the Dominican Republic, but how could I not also try observing some of its 300+ species of birds? Aside from watching the Hispaniolan Woodpeckers at Playa Dorada, I also visited the Isabel Torres Botanical Garden above Puerto Plata, the Ebano Verde Scientific Reserve in the country’s interior, Parque Nacional Cotubanamá in the south, Paque Nacional Los Haitises in the north, and Parque Nacional Los Tres Ojos in Santo Domingo. I saw, and photographed, lots of great birds but the woodpeckers remained among my favorites, along with a lizard-cuckoo and todies.
Cuckoos are notorious for sneaking stealthily through dense vegetation, so I was surprised to find an endemic Hispaniolan Lizard-Cuckoo sitting out in the open on a sidewalk at the Isabel Torres Botanical Garden. It hopped along the walkway toward me, scaled a few stairs, then eyed me a moment or two before flying into a thicket beside me. I thoroughly scanned the thicket, only to discover the bird had evaded me and was back on the walkway beyond me. It ran across the ground, weaving in and out of grasses in a lizard-like manner. It taunted me, pausing time and again for me to sneak within camera range, then darting into the next patch of grasses before I’d taken a shot. Photographically frustrating, I appreciated watching the bird’s behavior nonetheless. It was the first time I’d seen a lizard-cuckoo move along the ground in such a manner, explaining where its name might’ve come from. Fortunately, this wasn’t my only chance to photograph a Hispaniolan Lizard-Cuckoo.
As for the todies, I’d met my first member of this Caribbean endemic genus in Jamaica. I saw a second in Cuba and knowing there were only 5 tody species total with two of them in Hispaniola, I vowed to see both on my Dominican Republic trip. About the size of a plump hummingbird, with brilliant green above and a bright red bib below, the differences between the species are subtle. I hadn’t paid much attention in Jamaica and Cuba because nothing else on those islands looked like a tody, but here I needed to distinguish between the Narrow-billed and the Broad-billed Tody. Elevation and eye color proved most useful, leaving no doubt that the white-eyed bird I spotted in Ebano Verde’s mountainous forest was the Narrow-billed Tody. I watched as this gem of a bird snagged an insect mid-air, then settled onto a branch to finish the feast. Even more interesting, the local park ranger pointed out a muddy bank with several holes that he said were dug by a Narrow-billed Tody. At the end of one tunnel was a tody nest, the rest served as decoys to thwart predators. A few days later, I spotted my dark-eyed Broad-billed Tody in the coastal Parque Nacional Cotubanamá, as bold and brilliant as any tody. I’m not usually a lister, but 5 todies seems doable – Puerto Rico, here I come.
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