empty nest

A couple of days ago there were a pair of adult palm-nut vultures (Gypohierax angolensis, also called the vulturine fish eagle) soaring in the neighborhood in company with a brown-plumaged immature. The mature birds, with their startling black-and-white color scheme and reddish bare facial skin, cut quite a contrast with most other raptors that are typically decked out in sombre camouflage. One of the roads bordering this subdivision is lined with towering African mahogany trees where the palm-nut vultures roost and, I suppose, nest.

I've been hearing the calls of a red-chested cuckoo (Cuculus solitarius) daily for quite a while, but haven't yet caught a glimpse of it.

This morning I noticed a kettle of about 70 migrating storks, probably Abdim's (Ciconia abdimii), circling together in preparation for the next leg of their journey.

The leisurely song of the African thrush (Turdus pelios) is an early morning fixture these days. Must be time for nest-building and breeding! It sounds much like that of the American robin and others in this large avian family.

Kenya trip, etc.

We spent the last week or so of March in western Kenya on a farm just outside Eldama Ravine town. It's an area where the highlands in that region end in an escarpment that descends to the Rift Valley. The change in elevation makes for an extraordinarily diverse ecosystem, from highland forest and grassland to dry, hot acacia savannah in the valley floor.

I wrote down a hundred or so bird species that I encountered on the trip, and I'm sure could easily have logged over hundred and fifty if I'd made a foray or two into the lower-lying bush areas. Here's a list of several of the ones I found especially notable:

Wahlberg's honeybird (Prodotiscus regulus), alternatively named sharp-billed honeyguide--a rather drab bird, apart from prominent white outer tail feathers, but a new species for me

Hartlaub's turaco (Tauraco hartlaubi)--an altogether splendid bird in violet, green and scarlet, with with dashing white facial markings; had better than usual views of one this time, a particular pleasure since we do not have this species in our Mbale, Uganda area

African crowned eagle (Stephanoaetus coronatus)--Africa's most powerful raptor; son Jonathan's sharp eyes spotted one soaring over the forest as we were starting our return trip to Uganda; we pulled over to the shoulder of the road and enjoyed watching for a little while

Red-fronted parrot (Poicephalus gulielmi)--had flocks flying overhead daily en route to feeding or roosting places

Dusky turtle dove (Streptopelia lugens)--this was a new one for me also; viewed several of the birds while there; they do occur in Uganda, but only in southwestern and far northeastern parts of the country

Common scimitarbill (Rhinopomastus cyanomelas)--it had been years since I'd last seen one of these handsome black birds with white wing and tail spots

Cape robin-chat (Cossypha caffra)--I don't come across these very often, as they tend to be found at higher elevations than where we live, and not in my past experience in the same area as the related white-browed robin-chat (Cossypha heuglini, which we also enjoyed seeing while there)

Cape wagtail (Motacilla capensis)--a pair of them, foraging on the same patch of roadside grass with a couple of the common African pied wagtail (Motacilla aguimp)

Yellow-breasted apalis (Apalis flavida) and chestnut-throated apalis (Apalis porphyrolaema)--both of these were new to me, both observed in acacia trees at or not far from the forest edge

Sulphur-breasted bush-shrike (Malaconotus sulfureopectus)--saw a juvenile of this species that I often enjoyed watching at home in Malawi during growing-up years

Yellow-bellied waxbill (Estrilda quartinia)--I first got acquainted with these lovely, gregarious little birds in the highlands of Malawi, where the field-guides call them East African swees.

Streaky seedeater (Serinus striolatus), thick-billed seedeater (Serinus burtoni) and yellow-rumped seedeater (Serinus reichenowi)--the last of these was a new species for me

African golden-breasted bunting (Emberiza flaviventris)--gorgeous birds that I came across on several walks as they foraged on the ground, then flew up to a branch of a tree or shrub when I got too close

Red-chested cuckoo (Cuculus solitarius)--there were quite a number of these attractive birds drawing attention to themselves by their loud three-note, oft-repeated (even throughout the night!) calls; had some excellent views of a pair of them late one afternoon; sometimes they are called "rain-birds" because of their habit of calling frequently around the time that the rainy season begins

Heard the calls also of the black cuckoo (Cuculus clamosus) and the African emerald cuckoo (Chrysococcyx cupreus); Klaas's cuckoo (Chrysococcyx klaas) both heard and seen while there

Chin-spot batis (Batis molitor)--another bird familiar from our yard in Malawi, but not seen so far in Uganda

White-throated bee-eaters

Yesterday I was treated to a first-time (in Mbale) view of a flock of white-fronted bee-eaters (Merops albicollis) crossing over our yard, probably 200 feet up. Not the best presentation of these lovely birds, against a bright sky, but a thrill nonetheless to see and hear them in this area for the first time. They are not uncommon in other parts of Uganda, especially near wetlands, and draw attention to themselves by their almost continuous calling while on the wing.

A while back, as I was driving east toward Mbale from Kampala in the Busembatia area, I was keeping alert for grey-headed kingfishers (Halcyon leucocephala) on the power lines alongside the road. More often than not I get a glimpse of them on that section of road. This is to be appreciated because, even though they are not all that uncommon, they are much more localized in their distribution than their almost ubiquitous (in Uganda, at least) cousin the woodland kingfisher (Halcyon senegalensis). Anyway, it was my pleasure to spot one or two of them and a woodland kingfisher to boot, right in the same neighborhood. I think that's the first time I've observed both species there together.

A day or two back I heard in the distance the distinctive descending three-note call of the red-chested cuckoo (Cuculus solitarius). I've heard that these are sometimes called "rain-birds" because they do often call repetitively with the onset of the rainy season. They are somewhat infrequent here in Mbale, for some reason, but have been around more often the past couple of years.

Blue flycatchers

It has been a while since I saw blue flycatchers in Mbale, even though they are reasonably common around here. What a pleasure it was early this morning to come across a pair of them just a few feet away from where I was walking. Almost completely powder blue, crested, never still, frequently fanning their tails and keeping up a lively chittering as they chased each other through the lantana bushes--it was a delight to see them.

I was also treated this morning to stunning views of a male scarlet-chested sunbird and very close-up looks at a male olive-bellied sunbird.

Recently noted

African hobby -- brief look at a pair of them early one evening from the verandah atop our garage; the time of day when bats begin flying and the palm swifts were still out in numbers, either of which would make fine menu items for the hobbies

African paradise flycatcher -- second sighting in a month or so, and still quite unusual for within Mbale town

Bat hawk -- spotted on two early-morning outings; the first one was probably sharing in the general feeding frenzy on a flight of the winged reproductive versions of one of the larger termite varieties

Tropical boubou -- ran across a pair dueting (which is what alerted me to their presence about 30 meters off the road I was on); I've observed these only a few times in this neighborhood during our eleven years in Mbale

This morning there were noticeably fewer than usual yellow-billed kites in flight around the area. In 30 minutes or so I saw two, I think, compared with the 30-40 I would have expected based on what I've been seeing in recent months. Makes me wonder if most of them may be gearing up to move out of these parts for a while.

Also this morning I got close to a mvuli tree from which a giant (Verreaux's) eagle owl was grunting; short on time, I couldn't stay long enough to locate it among the branches.

Near a swampy area along the municipal golf course I came across a winding cisticola, which I've not usually met that close to town (they are common just outside in the wetlands just west of town).

There have been a pair, at least, of red-billed oxpeckers turning up in our part of town the past two or three weeks. We evidently have enough people keeping cows around here to provide a sufficient supply of ticks and other parasites to support them.

More cuckoos

Since hearing the Klaas's cuckoo calling the other day for the first time in a while, I've noticed their signature sound just about every day. A couple of days ago, over on the north side of Mbale along Nabuyonga stream, I was surprised to hear another trademark African voice from the same family: that of the diederick cuckoo. These birds are named for their call, which goes something like "dee-dee-dee-deederick!" -- with the emphasis at the end. Diederick cuckoos tend to inhabit somewhat warmer areas than Klaas's cuckoos, and it's a little unusual in my experience to find them together in the same neighborhood.

Note on pictures

Copyright law does not allow the display on a website of pictures taken by someone else without prior written permission. So I'll limit my occasional posting of bird images to pictures I've taken myself. I do recommend, though, that if you'd like to have a look at a bird that I write about encountering, just use Google or another search engine to do an image search on the bird's name. In most cases, you'll get a number of excellent pictures to view.

Here today, gone tomorrow

The male Klaas's cuckoo is a dapper fellow, metallic forest green above and mainly white below. That green and white pattern camouflages him perfectly when he's high in a full-foliaged tree (which is where he prefers to hang out). Usually the only thing that gives his presence away is his distinctive and oft-repeated whistling call, one of the characteristic sounds of woodland in this part of Africa. The other day I heard this signature sound up in a tree beside the road I was on; didn't see the bird, but was glad to get a call from him, so to speak. It's been a number of months since I've heard one, and in the few days since then I haven't heard one calling again. He may have been just passing through.

Speaking of birds that are sometimes here and sometimes not, the grey-capped warbler is another one. These tend to be much harder to observe than Klaas's cuckoo, not only because of their grey and green coloration but also because they normally stay well within dense thicket or undergrowth. I tried for many months to get a glimpse of this bird that regales the neighborhood with an extraordinarily loud and varied series of call notes before I finally laid eyes on one. For some reason, though, since returning to Uganda in October, I had not heard a grey-capped warbler sing until early in January. For a couple of weeks, then, I heard their calls several times, but not again since then. They have either moved on, perhaps according to some local migration pattern, or they are skulking in the hedges without vocally advertising their presence.
I'll mention one more that fits in the category of "here today, gone tomorrow"--the African black-headed oriole. For the past several weeks, beginning in December I think, I've been hearing one calling in the early part of the mornings of several days. About three times I've been treated to a sighting--most recently yesterday when one flew between trees not far above my head half a mile or so from our house. These encounters have reminded me that I also saw and heard these orioles several times in December 2005 and January 2006. I would guess that they may be in our area seasonally as intra-African migrants; or alternatively that they simply find it convenient to be here at this time because of the temporary availability of some particular type of food that they favor. The African black-headed oriole is extremely similar to the less widespread western black-headed oriole (which also occurs in our area, according to my field guide). One of my challenges is to observe these birds closely enough with binoculars at some point to be sure which of the two I've been seeing. Sometimes one arrives at a firm identification of a species only after months of peering and researching. Which I think makes reaching that conclusion all the more rewarding.