Even though it is quite chilly at night and in the early mornings, the winter can be one of the prettiest times of year here, with a special warm tone to the sunlight that makes the bromelias almost glow when lit from behind as in the opening picture taken in the late afternoon. When as now it is dry (there has barely been any rain for a month) the morning mist rises quite early, producing beautiful views across the river valley where it lingers.
Inside the forest, there is no shortage of birdlife, even though we are between the peak fruiting time of autumn and the intense competition for nest-space which comes in the spring. I was pleased to get this photo of a Rufous-capped Ant-thrush (Formicarius colma) which can be heard pretty much all the time even from the house, but usually only glimpsed fleetingly in the undergrowth.
Still in the forest, I have been having fun with my new digital recorder. Here is the sound from the entrance to the strange beehive I photographed some time ago inside a large tree near the river. The stingless native jataí bees remain deep inside the trunk at this time of year, but putting your ear (or microphone) to the hole, a constant buzz reverberates through the trumpet-like entrance structure. I am told it closes up like a doorway at night, although I have never seen this.
Near the house, the Yellow-fronted Woodpeckers (Melanerpes flavifrons) seem to be preparing to move back into the hollow trunk just behind the barbeque area. It still bears the holes from their nesting last year, and yesterday I saw them drilling some new ones. They have been showing a lot of interest in the bananas we have hung nearby (as have the other most common woodpecker here, the Blond-crested Woodpecker), so I guess we will be seeing even more of them as the breeding season approaches.
One of the interesting aspects to bird observation is the way species do not always stay where they are supposed to live. These Cliff Flycatchers (Hirundinea ferruginea) are referred to as mountain birds, nesting in rocky crevices, but this pair seems to be pretty much resident in the open area just above the house. One of the 26 species from the flycatcher family that we have (so far) identified here, they have a very distinctive translucent reddish wing pattern which gives them away as they perform acrobatic manouevres to catch insects and return to the same perch on the branch.
Finally, a photo to record the fact that our sighting of a sloth a few weeks back was not a one-off. I saw this one (maybe the same individual) once again immobile high up in an embaúba tree (Cecropia sp.), this time a little further from the entrance track on the other side, but still in the same upper area of forest. Hopefully one of these days I will catch it awake.
