Nature Notes
by Bob Thomas

One of the joys of being a scientist and/or naturalist is making new discoveries. As a naturalist, this is usually manifested in finding species I’ve never found before, observing critter activities I’ve never seen, or coming to understand events as I sharpen my skills in “reading the woods.”

A good naturalist is observant. He is a perpetual student of nature, and driven to perfect his passion for understanding the natural world. I pride myself in being pretty good at this, and I attribute that to having been mentored by excellent field biologists and picking their brains for details on this species and that.

I’ve recently been focused on purple finches, a species that has eluded me throughout my many years of bird watching. I have 13 bird feeders in my backyard, and all the vegetation is there for one purpose – to serve as food or habitat for birds, butterflies, and any other animals that enjoy the space.

My binoculars are kept on the window sill and I check the avian visitors many times throughout the day. I often see great birds, such as the three red-breasted nuthatches this year that are excellent sightings for Metairie. House finches, which are very close in pattern and coloration to purple finches, are common.

But no purple finches! Several times a week I see reports on LABird, a listserv dedicated to Louisiana bird watching, of purple finches in Metairie, but do you think I see them in my yard? Noooooo!

Am I terribly disappointed? No. Will I be happy when I finally see them? Yes. The anticipation of them showing up at my feeders is lots of fun in and of itself.

As a tropical biologist, I’ve made frequent visits to the Neotropics (New World tropics) since the mid-1960s. I’ve had many, many target species (a checklist of species I want to find) over the years, and have found almost all. But, two have eluded me: jaguars and bushmasters.

First, a word about my personal rules. I’m pretty strict in my interpretation of what I count and what I see. Some bird watchers will check off (or tick as the Brits say) a species if it just flashes by, or even if someone in their group sees it. Not I. To satisfy my rules, I must get a very good look, and hopefully observe it going about its business. Glances don’t count on my lists.

My jaguar experience illustrates my technique. I don’t consider that I’ve seen a jaguar in the field. That said, I’ve found hundreds of tracks, some very fresh. I’ve seen the shining eyes on three occasions. One time I sat and stared at a large jag 25 yards away for 30 minutes. I could tell when he was looking straight at me (eyes are green), when he blinked, and when he looked to the side (eyes are red). Why don’t I count this? I never saw the spots, so I didn’t really see the animal.

Twice I’ve been tracked by a jaguar, obvious to me because I found jaguar tracks on top of my footprints the morning after I saw glowing eyes. Once, in Tikal, Guatemala, one followed me back to my cabana! But that still doesn’t count.

The bushmaster (there are three species) is the world’s largest pit viper, a gargantuan snake reaching lengths of 12 feet and sporting 2 inch long fangs. It ranges from Nicaragua south throughout much of the rainforests of South America.

I’ve been fascinated by this snake since 1962 when I read Raymond Ditmar’s Thrills of a Naturalist’s Quest. I’ve spent weeks and weeks in the Neotropical rainforests with the bushmaster on my mind. I’ve been told one was seen “here two days ago.” “I saw one on the entrance road.” “One just crawled across the trail minutes ago.” “We see them all the time.” Not I, said the Louisiana naturalist!

These animals are sedentary. They are known to stay coiled in the same place for days and weeks. When I go to the Åsa Wright Nature Centre in Trinidad, I send an email offering $100 if someone knows where one is resting and takes me to photograph it. The rule is that it must be a wild animal in its normal habitat.

I have another rule. I do not buy an image of a species that I have not seen in the wild. If I have a painting or carving, I’ve seen it. I must admit, I found a wonderful slate carving of a jaguar done by a Maya lady in southern Belize. Knowing that I may not find this carving when I see the jag (assuming I will), I bought it and gave it to my daughter, Aimée, to keep until I finally encounter a jaguar in the wild.

And so goes my nature adventure. Am I discouraged about my unfulfilled targets? Although I long to see them, I leave their habitat each time knowing that they are there, and that they probably watched me walk by. That has been enough to keep me returning for the hunt.

In the end, it is the thrill of the pursuit that is rewarding, not necessarily the discovery. But discovery will be sweet!
 

Male purple finch, an infrequent but                                      Bushmaster, Lachesis muta, from Peru.
not surprising winter visitor to the                                         Reaching 12 feet, this species is the largest
Gulf Coast. It is similar to the locally                                     pit viper in the world. It should be obvious
common house finch.                                                           from the text that this specimen was not
Photo by chickendancetrail.com                                        found in the wild by Bob.
                                                                                             Photo by Bob Thomas.

Jaguar track, Cockscomb Jaguar                                             Jaguar in the Belize Zoo.
Sanctuary, Belize.                                                                  Photo by Bob Thomas.
Photo by Bob Thomas.