Cuero y Salado Wildlife Refuge
Today began with a tropical spectacle. In the early cool morn, we boarded Zodiacs to explore the Rios Cuero and Salado. It was a tropical fantasy. Thick vegetation swathed the shores. Howler monkeys snoozed among the branches, all languor but for their tails, questing, like snakes, for a tighter grip. Butterflies skipped from flower to flower. But most varied were the birds. Parrots shot by in noisy flight, or screeched from hidden leafy perches. Herons and kingfishers played follow the leader with our boats. Toucans gamboled in the treetops, and gave their strange ‘treefrog’ calls. We found brightly colored trogons, huge woodpeckers, and even the bizarre and masterfully cryptic pottoo.
We had sought birds, but as we motored to our next destination, the birds came to us. Tiny warblers appeared on the light fixtures, beneath the deck chairs, and between people’s feet. These birds were in migration, and used the ship as a temporary resting place. Most were exhausted beyond fear, and sometimes landed within inches of our eyes! We saw several species, including the Blackburnian warbler, fabulously plumed in incendiary colors.
Equally bright colors lay beneath the waves. From tiny Southwest Cay, we donned our gear and went snorkeling. Fish hovered over the intricate reef, barred or spotted, vermiculated or pied, rimmed or punctuated in splendid hues. We saw mousy grey and acid purple, emerald and maroon, midnight and electric blue, and every kind of yellow.
Emerging from the water, many of us were a bit slack jawed and stupefied at the submarine scene, but a few of us managed to explore the tiny island. Once again we found migrating birds everywhere. The warblers, orioles and flycatchers all seemed more typical of some New England forest, yet here they were, perched in palm trees.
By night the saga continued. Having rested during the day, all of these migrants were now streaming by in the dark. We gathered to watch as flock after flock passed our lights. Soon swallows were lining the handrails and awning supports. At last, the Captain dimmed our lights so as not to disorient the travelers.
It is moving to encounter a little bird, such as the Yellow warbler pictured, at close range. Gone is the swarm, the vast flock, the anonymous herd. Suddenly one sees an individual creature, with intensions, urges, even feelings, that even if never articulated, may be as heartfelt as our own.
Travel can lead one to new discoveries, without and within.
Today began with a tropical spectacle. In the early cool morn, we boarded Zodiacs to explore the Rios Cuero and Salado. It was a tropical fantasy. Thick vegetation swathed the shores. Howler monkeys snoozed among the branches, all languor but for their tails, questing, like snakes, for a tighter grip. Butterflies skipped from flower to flower. But most varied were the birds. Parrots shot by in noisy flight, or screeched from hidden leafy perches. Herons and kingfishers played follow the leader with our boats. Toucans gamboled in the treetops, and gave their strange ‘treefrog’ calls. We found brightly colored trogons, huge woodpeckers, and even the bizarre and masterfully cryptic pottoo.
We had sought birds, but as we motored to our next destination, the birds came to us. Tiny warblers appeared on the light fixtures, beneath the deck chairs, and between people’s feet. These birds were in migration, and used the ship as a temporary resting place. Most were exhausted beyond fear, and sometimes landed within inches of our eyes! We saw several species, including the Blackburnian warbler, fabulously plumed in incendiary colors.
Equally bright colors lay beneath the waves. From tiny Southwest Cay, we donned our gear and went snorkeling. Fish hovered over the intricate reef, barred or spotted, vermiculated or pied, rimmed or punctuated in splendid hues. We saw mousy grey and acid purple, emerald and maroon, midnight and electric blue, and every kind of yellow.
Emerging from the water, many of us were a bit slack jawed and stupefied at the submarine scene, but a few of us managed to explore the tiny island. Once again we found migrating birds everywhere. The warblers, orioles and flycatchers all seemed more typical of some New England forest, yet here they were, perched in palm trees.
By night the saga continued. Having rested during the day, all of these migrants were now streaming by in the dark. We gathered to watch as flock after flock passed our lights. Soon swallows were lining the handrails and awning supports. At last, the Captain dimmed our lights so as not to disorient the travelers.
It is moving to encounter a little bird, such as the Yellow warbler pictured, at close range. Gone is the swarm, the vast flock, the anonymous herd. Suddenly one sees an individual creature, with intensions, urges, even feelings, that even if never articulated, may be as heartfelt as our own.
Travel can lead one to new discoveries, without and within.
