Our diversity of experiences continued this morning with our early skiff ride. The landscape was cloaked in a light fog layer that added to the mystery and magic of our exploration. The silhouettes of birds gave away their identity, we could tell the woodpecker, herons, swallows, tanager, parrots and falcons before the sun came through enough to revel their colors and subsequently their individuality. In the growing light they morphed into a crimson-crested woodpecker, cocoi heron, white-winged swallow, masked crimson tanager, blue-winged parrotlets and a bat falcon.
Far back in the black water some event long ago caused a number of the trees to die. This only added to the surreal scene, the leafless skeletons standing and reflected in the mirror flat water. Baskets of spider webs hung in the naked branches. The mottled bark of the expired trees was the perfect wallpaper for a small group of bats to roost on and disappear in plain site.
Later this morning we visited the small village of Flor de Castaña. Chickens and ducks were scattered everywhere, their respective chicks and ducklings following their mamas into the shade offered by the neighborhood houses all perched upon stilts. We visited a local convenience store, which amounted to a table of assorted essential goods in the home of an enterprising individual. We also stopped by an elementary school. It was difficult to tell who had more fun, our guests meeting the children and teachers of the school, or the children having an unexpected group of folks come visit and allow them to break away from their studies for a portion of the morning. We ended our visit by singing each other a song; we were serenaded with a lovely song in Spanish and in return, we sang in chorus a rendition of the “Itsy Bitsy Spider,” complete with the finger twisting gestures of the climbing spider.
Kayaking and exploring by skiff rounded out the afternoon. The skies were dry and blue, accented by a few decorative puffy-white clouds in the distance. Kayakers paddled aimlessly about the calm black water and the skiffs went out seeking avian treasures. With the cooling day the chatter of the birds picked up and we heard black-fronted nunbirds calling in chorus, horned screamers braying in the deep foliage, and the car alarm of the black-capped donacobious was set off several times. The highlight for some was a family of wattled jacanas dancing atop a mat of floating vegetation, at least five walnut-sized chicks were found. For others, a still-as-a-stick potoo perched on a cecropia tree left us in awe with the combination of cryptic coloration and twig imitation as an adaptation to survival; insects yes, but a bird? Wow!
A blazing sunset visually set the water afire and it was followed by a clear star-studded sky. This wrapped up our day and we quickly fell exhausted, but happy once again, into a fitful slumber to ready us for a new day of exploration.
