bird migration in Costa Rica

Reminders of Bird Migration in Costa Rica

A lot of birds winter in Costa Rica. Go birding from late October to early March and you should run into Summer Tanagers, orioles, Philadelphia Vireos and a warbler parade of winter plumaged Chestnut-sided, Black and white, Tennessee, Wilson’s, Black-throated Green, and Yellow Warblers among other species.

There’ll also be Barn Swallows zipping low over open fields, a healthy array of shorebirds probing mud flats, and Yellow-bellied Flycatchers chipping from the woods. At the moment, most of those winter birds have yet to arrive. For the most part, there’ll still entertaining birders and ravaging caterpillar populations up north. They don’t usually get their fill until later this month, making it here in bulk by early October.

Barn Swallow living it up in Costa Rica.

However, we don’t have to wait until the month of pumpkin spice to see migrants. A fair number are already here, most making a stop on their route to South America. They can sneak through and the numbers are much smaller than the October avian rush but the birds are out there, available for birders taking a closer look.

This past week saw a nice little push of transient migrants and early arrivals. These were some of the reminders that migration is happening in Costa Rica, that birds are on the move through Quetzalandia.

Pewees on perches

Lately, I’ve been checking my local patch of urban green space, hoping to notice hints of the northern migrant vanguard. If I was birding in better habitat, I’m sure I’d see more but, you’ve got to work with what you got. Around here, that means a small bit of trees on a riparian zone, and a nearby patch of a park.

At least that’s what I’ve got within walking distance. There are better vegetated spots a bit further afield (and I do hope to visit them too) but they require more time and effort than easy, early morning strolls.

During those strolls, I have noticed a few migrants but wondered where the pewees were. Those semi-crested, easy-plumaged flycatchers pass through Costa Rica in substantial numbers. I suppose it’s a tad early, most aren’t here yet but I did see my first of three migrant Contopus this past week.

Around Varablanca, an out of place thingee on the tip top of a tall snag turned into an expected Olive-sided Flycatcher. I always like seeing those conifer birds, as a kid, they were one of the “good ones” to see, one of the uncommon flycatchers. I saw my first perched on a typical tip of a snag during a summer visit to Algonquin Provincial Park, sometime 80s. A while ago now but burned into the memory banks by additional sightings from that same boggy spot; otters playing, a pair of lifer White-winged Crossbills, and a glimpse of a distant Black Bear crossing the track far ahead.

I see Olive-sideds here in Costa Rica, the tip top birds that demand three beers elsewhere, and wonder what they saw on their wild and beautiful breeding grounds. I wondered the same for the other pewees also seen this week; a Western Wood-Pewee (WEWP there it is…) on the snag in front of Cinchona, and an Eastern on the end of a stick yesterday evening.

Did they see bears too? Imagine the glittering tanager parties they’ll see once they reach the Andes!

Dickcissel whispers

Now is the time to hear Dickcissels. I heard my first of the fall yesterday morning and it was par for the course; a slight buzzy call from somewhere above, an afterthought above zinc-roofed homes, Green-breasted Mango feeding from orange flowers topping a lone tree, and White-winged Dove quickening over concrete.

Once in a while, a Dickcissel even lands around here, no doubt much to its chagrin. It won’t find food on these cinder block walls, no rice or weedy fields to visit. Most whisper and keep moving, keep flying south and east until they find suitably marshy spots to their liking.

A handful of warblers

I figured my first warbler would be aYellow Warbler. That’s usually the case although Black and whites are pretty early too. I have had a few of those but no Yellow yet. Should be one nearby, at least any day now.

The other scant early bird warblers I have seen are American Redstart, a cool female Canada Warbler in the local park, Blackburnian in cloud forest, and expected Louisiana Waterthrush near a mountain stream.

Other local birders have noticed a few other warblers, the best of the bunch being a possible Yellow-throated. Now that would be a nice find, it’s a rare bird in Costa Rica.

A push of Ceruleans

At the moment, we are in the heart of Cerulean Warbler migration. That’s one of the main birds I’m hoping to find in my neighborhood, my biggest hope while scanning fully foliaged trees. No luck yet but a few have been seen nearby, there’s probably one or more within a few miles as I write.

However, the best places to see these special birds are where other birders have been reporting them; forested middle elevations and the Caribbean slope. I might get there soon, really hope I see one.

Buff-breasted Sandpipers, Least Terns, and other coastal birds

The biggest migration news was a flock of 17 Buff-breasted Sandpipers from Chomes. Although that happens every year, you still gotta be lucky to coincide your visit to Chomes with their’s. Those seriously long distance migrants are here one day, gone the next, and there’s not a heck of a lot of them.

Least Terns are also moving through, now is a great time to see them on the Pacific coast along with other coastal migrants, shorebirds for the most part. However, if you do some seawatching, you might also get lucky and see a Sabine’s.

Swallows and other species

The first of droves of Hirundines have also shown up. I’ve seen Barns and some Cliffs, as usual, for whatever reason, flying from west to east, often low over the neighborhood houses.

I also saw one other swallow, unfortunately, a kick myself bird. It came in so low, I didn’t notice it until it was too close for binos (or I was just too early morning lazy to raise them). At first glance, I also foolishly took it to be a common and expected Blue and white Swallow. However, when it flew overhead, I realized it didn’t have a darn vent so I figured, oh, my first Bank Swallow.

BUT, while looking for the dark breast band, I realized it didn’t have one and was all white below. Um, around here, a migrant swallow like that is either a Tree or a Violet-green, both rare species for Costa Rica. Sadly, I couldn’t see anything more revealing before it flew directly into the sun and out of my life. I suspect it was a Violet-green, a major migrant prize and year bird but, I was too lackadaisical with the binos (proceeds to kick self).

Other species have included my first Eastern Kingbird of the fall (which was insisting on hanging with a pari of Tropical Kingbirds that kept chasing it away), and others have seen flocks of Swallow-tailed Kites and some other birds.

Migration is definitely happening in Costa Rica, what else is out there? I hope I get the chance to find out.

The First Fall Migrant Out Back, Costa Rica, 2021

I should have gotten up earlier this morning. As a birder knows, the early hours are when the action really takes place. Watch a suitable spot in that first main hour of another glorious day and you might be surprised by the birds that fly through your field of view. However, start watching two hours later and you might want to curb the expectations. By then, the height of the avian rush hour has passed, you will have missed out on most of the action. At least, that’s how it is in Costa Rica and is why I wasn’t expecting anything when I started this morning’s casual back balcony bird watch.

Not having planned on birding this morning, the watch out back began well after dawn. It was more of a casual listen and look just to see if anything was out there. No focused, dedicated birding, I didn’t even bring the binoculars. I wasn’t surprised to see more of trees and other types of vegetation than birds but there were still a few things of avian origin, there always is.

Red-billed Pigeons were on their usual perch.

Cabanis’s Wrens called from a leafy wall of second growth, Blue Grosbeaks sang, and a Yellow-bellied Elaenia “screamed”. Fresh coffee is good but it’s always better with bird song! My casual coffee and birding changed when I noticed a small, “dull” bird perched on the tip of a thin, broken snag. I hustled back inside to get the binocs but sure enough, even though it was a two second interval, the bird had gone.

You can’t expect a bird to wait, it’s got survival to be concerned with. I kept my eyes on that snag, though, because I had a fair notion about the bird I had glimpsed. I figured it might come back and sure enough, a few seconds later, it zipped back to materialize on its perch. By instinct, I got my binoculars on the bird and a quick check confirmed my suspicion.

Western Wood-Pewee (from another day but on the same perch)

For birders from western North America, a WEWP might not seem like much, especially if you are visiting Costa Rica. For me, though, it won the prize as my first fall, 2021 passerine migrant seen out back. It was expected and the perch it chose was where I often see them but I was still impressed.

Impressed because the small flycatcher with the long wings could have spent the summer in Alaska. It could have flown from the conifers of Colorado, shared space with Lazuli Buntings and watched Cougars prowl. It could have come from Yellowstone, been seen by birders there or so many other places. Before it came to Costa Rica, it had to watch out for and avoid the Sharp-shinneds and Merlins that would be ever eager to end its life (they gotta eat too). Around here, it has to avoid Bat Falcons, snakes, and other hungry predators.

This past summer, “my” WEWP may have fled from horrendous fires, may have seen the clouds of smoke and high-tailed it south earlier than expected. No matter where it came from, it probably stopped off in Mexican mountains on the way, maybe even in places where I watched Red Warblers decorate dark conifers long ago.

All I can say for sure is that it came from some far off place to fly through long nights, always flying south, and when it got to Costa Rica, it chose a perfect perch out back. I hope it caught its fill of bugs. I hope it stays well on its way to wintering grounds on Andean slopes. When Western Wood-Pewee migration happens in spring, as it makes the journey back to the mountains of the north, I hope it stops here again. Most of all, I hope we can make the changes needed to ensure habitat for the bird, for us humans, and for future people to see a WEWP and feel amazed.