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Howell divides the country into 14 regions, and lists the top several birding locations for each region, called "sites." Not only are there specific directions to the sites he covers ("turn right onto cobblestone road at Kilometer 14, past Pemex station," for example), he supplies a list of species found at each site. The result is two-fold: (1) anyone can now easily find the "hot spots" for Mexico's fabulous avifauna; and (2) field identification is facilitated, because a species list for the site has been provided by the man who authored the authoritative field guide. You will know where to stay; where to go; and what you are seeing once you get there. Quite simply, birding in Mexico has been forever changed, and just in the nick of time.
This reviewer recently took the book on a "family vacation" to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Assuming I was to be confined to seeing a few species at the resort where I was staying with my 3 year-old, my 6-year old, my in-laws, and my wife, I nevertheless eagerly anticipated the trip -- hoping to make forays into the wild -- but not knowing where on earth to go. Receiving a tip 10 days in advance that Howell's book had just a few weeks earlier been published, but assured that undoubtedly I would not be able to procure a copy in time, I nevertheless got one quickly from Amazon.com in three days. Whew!
After consultation of the book, I learned there was a splendid lagoon 5 miles from my luxury hotel (which I visited twice) and that a world famous bird area was only two hours to the north -- San Blas, Nayarit -- Spain's headquarters for its Pacific empire of the 1700s. I quickly reaaranged my itinerary; rented a car; made reservations in a lovely hotel recommended by Howell; and took in a three day adventure that netted me 135 species of birds. This would have been impossible without the book, as Howell's guide directed me to 7 specific locations that were simply gushing with birds, birds, and more birds.
On the first morning of birding at Site 6.2 in the state of Nayarit (the Mexican state north of Jalisco), I hiked up a verdant canyon above the village of "La Bajada." The mouth of the canyon opened directly into a gentle bay of the Pacific, which I could see far below. The cliffs of the canyon rose 800 feet above me, and I gradually worked my way higher and higher as morning mists evaporated and sunlight hit the leaves. A canopy of trees surrounded a coffee plantation, and I was proud to be setting out before the coffee bean collectors merrily starting their early morning work, with sharpened machetes and little fires to keep warm and burn the forest.
In a few hours in the mysterious canyon above La Bajada, I spied both the Elegant Trogon and the Citreoline Trogon (a Mexican endemic); the Lineated Woodpecker and the Pale-billed Woodpecker; three species of parrots (two screamed as they rocketed away from a Grey Hawk, which seemed to swoop out of nowhere); the Squirrel Cuckoo; the Ivory-billed Woodcreeper; the Masked Tityra; the Rose-throated Becard; and the Black-throated Mapie-jay, the San Blas Jay and the Sinaloa Crow (all Mexican endemics).
But the sounds were marvelous as well. A Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl tooted from a grove of trees, unseen but easy to identify from the combination of the bird list in the "Finding Guide" and Howell and Webb's authoritative field guide. The Happy Wren, another Mexican endemic, blasted its pulsating song from the brush. The White-tipped Dove cooed ghostlike, unseen from the forest floor.
As I had hoped, above La Bajada I also heared the song of the bird many consider to be the finest singer in the New World -- the Brown-backed Solitaire -- a thrush in the genus Myadestes. George M. Sutton, in his ground breaking "Mexican Birds: First Impressions," described the fantastic song as an "electric sparkler," as "musical fireworks," and confessed that in his decades of professional ornithology, when he first heard the solitaire in 1938, he felt as if "his ears had never fully functioned" until that "high moment that filled him with wild, half-furious exultation."
At La Bajada you hear such things, and the trees were indeed literally dripping with birds.
In San Blas proper about 20 minutes away, there were thousands of shorebirds, Roseate Spoonbills, Wood Storks, and Black-necked stilts. On the beach was the majestic American Oystercatcher. A pair was observed catching tiny crabs, and performing an odd sort of bonding dance where the two stood parrallel to each other, but head to toe to bounce and sway in unison. There were warblers galore, parrots, anis, Crane Hawks, Black Hawks, Harris Hawks, and a Peregrine Falcon was easily approached on top of a hill where an old fort, church and canon commanded a view of the town at sunset. The raucous call of the Collared Forest-Falcon was heard from a cliff, bouncing through the forest. The bird list for the marvelous San Blas area tops 305 birds!
The directions in Howell's book are so good that the name and telephone number of a boatman specializing in mangrove swamp tours was given: Oscar Partida. I took the bait, and as a result approached a Northern Potoo, a Paraque, Boat billed Herons, Bare-throated tiger herons, and Rufous-bellied Chachalacas at close range. Obviously, this book has revolutionized birding in Mexico. Many of the magical areas seem to be within easy driving distance of resorts, and comfortable hotels. It is profusely illustrated with diagrams on how to get where you want to be.
In the larger scheme of conservation biology, the book should also serve as a landmark of sorts. On each jaunt I saw wetlands being drained for new resort hotels, forests being hacked down and burned, and the delicate web of life irreversibly disorganized by the growing human and economic activity. This is, of course, nothing different from what is also happening here in the U.S. and elsewhere.
Many tropical countries, most notably Costa Rica, have recognized that conservation of biological diversity, at least in the form of eco-tourism, has great economic value. Mexico is, at this moment, now coming to this realization, and towns such as San Blas are experiencing a revival precisely because of such eco-tourism.
Accordingly, Howell's book is also important because it will make much more widely accessible the viewing of the marvellous Mexican birds. Let us hope it sells in droves, and that its readers flock to Mexico to see the birds. The concomitant increase in awareness of birds there, both as economic factors and also as indicators of intact ecosystems, will do much to aid Mexico to preserve its invaluable biodiversity, which otherwise may disappear within the next generation.
Bravo, Steve N.G. Howell! Your book has tremendous potential at the turn of the Millennium, both for enjoyment, and for preserving our planet.
This is clearly another case of too many mad scientists, and not enough
hunchbacks.
I woke up this morning and discovered that everything in my apartment
had been stolen and replaced with an exact replica. I told my roommate,
"Isn't this amazing? Everything in the apartment has been stolen and
replaced with an exact replica." He said, "Do I know you?"
-- Steven Wright