We think of the Northwest Corner, and rightly so, as a place blessed with natural beauty and wildlife, from otters to oak trees, bears to bald eagles. But by one measure — absolute biodiversity — the world’s tropics are unrivaled.
My family’s visit earlier this month to the beautiful Central American country of Costa Rica was a week spent in nature’s playground. There were birds everywhere, of course; we identified more than a hundred species. But there were also close encounters with howler monkeys and assorted other mammals, countless butterflies and moths, spectacular waterfalls, and even the unsettling experience of sleeping in the shadow of an active volcano.
The first half of our trip was a return of sorts for my wife and me to the magnificent cloud forest of Monteverde. We had taken our first trip there together nearly 20 years ago. Located in the mountains northwest of San Jose, the capital city, Monteverde is a magical paradise, where ferns grow as tall trees and plants called epiphytes hang their roots in the air and on trees, getting nutrition from the air’s moisture and their hosts.
One kind of epiphyte, the strangler fig, winds its roots around the host tree until the host dies, leaving a hollow shell into which you can sometimes fit a person under the living fig.
Although the area has changed dramatically in two decades to accommodate ecotourists, the forest trails quickly take you to spots where the melodious sound of black-faced solitaires (relatives of our robin) and prong-billed barbets (which make a laughing call in duet) can be heard.
But the reigning monarch of the cloud forest is the resplendent quetzal, a bird that you could imagine in your dreams. The male’s 2-foot-long tail streamers are fantastical, as are its brilliant green upperparts and ruby red underparts. With the sure hand of our guide, we were favored with a long look at a quetzal as it sat on a branch and preened.
Another few hours northeast of Monteverde is the volcano Arenal, where we stayed at a lodge that was formerly a scientific research station. Never having experienced a live volcano before, I can only tell you that it is awesome, and maybe just a little terrifying. Being woken up late at night by an indescribable roar — the volcano shooting out ash and smoke — reminded me that I really must finish my will!
Because the lodge itself was located much closer to sea level, there were many different birds there, including keel-billed toucans and many brilliantly colored tanagers. One morning I spied a chestnut-sided warbler flitting about outside my window, a reminder that at least some of these birds — including that warbler and the brightly plumed scarlet tanager — will be gracing our own backyards any day now.
By far the strangest sight, however, was saved for the last leg of our trip back to San Jose: a three-toed sloth crossing the road. Since sloths are much more adept in trees than on the ground, the peculiar animal’s progress was painfully slow, until a couple of intrepid “ticos†[native Costa Ricans] offered it a piece of wood to cling to and carried it to the other side.
Fred Baumgarten is a naturalist and writer. He can be reached at fredb58@sbcglobal.net. His blog is at thatbirdblog.blogspot.com.
