photography

Singapore and Sulawesi!

My previous post was comprised of us visiting Indonesia west of Wallace’s Line. Here I will display photos from Sulawesi, an island east of Wallace’s Line and west of Lydekker’s Line (the separation of wildlife from Sulawesi, Nusa Tenggara, and the Moluccas from New Guinea and Australia ). Sulawesi is known for its high proportion of endemism, especially in the birds, so a lot of the species shown here can be found nowhere else. I will also be posting photos from Singapore, where we stopped briefly before heading to Sulawesi. Also, many of the species I took photos of are rare and hard to see, so the photos will be of less quality because of the low light and fast-moving animals.

One of our best stops in Singapore was the Singapore Botanic Gardens, which was full of Red Junglefowl, the wild ancestor of the domestic chicken. Immediately after we got out of the Uber, we saw these chicks, much to Cedar’s delight.
One of the best ways to separate junglefowl from chickens is to check for the large white patch on the male’s head, seen here clearly.
The junglefowl were also accompanied by this Common Flameback, a type of large woodpecker.
These chicks were adorable, snuggling under the mother’s belly.
In Singapore we also went on a birding trip around some wetlands that started off with my first Dollarbird, (a type of roller) name because of the white patches in its wings that appear like “silver dollars” when it flies.
Another highlight of the birding trip was this Little Bronze Cuckoo, easily identified from the iridescent bronze back, red eye-ring, and barred belly.
While climbing to Singapore’s highest point we came across this colugo (a type of mammal that uses flaps of skin to glide from tree to tree). It stayed perfectly still the entire time, and we still don’t know if it was actually alive!
Javan Mynas like this one are common all across the city, but this one is suffering from a leg disease, and you can see the misshapen feet.
Upon leaving Singapore we arrived in Sulawesi, a haven for endemic birds. Almost 27% of the region’s birds are endemic. Sulawesi hosts 12 endemic genera of birds, including 6 kingfishers, 9 parrots, and 7 owls. One of the first endemics we saw was this Yellow-billed Malkoha, a relative of the coucals, which are relatives of the cuckoos.
Our first stop in Sulawesi was the village of Kamarora A, near the famous Lore Lindu National Park. On our first morning we took a trip to a lake just outside the park to bird. This Brush Cuckoo was seen there.
This Turquoise Warbling-flycatcher was also a highlight of the lake trip.
On the way back from the lake this raptor flew up and perched in a tree in front of us. It was later identified as a Bat Hawk, a rare species that can catch bats or swifts on the wing.
Lore Lindu is also known for its tarsiers, which are small nocturnal primates and very, very cute. This is one of the several we saw.
One of the most famous birding locations in Sulawesi is the Anaso Track. The track’s star birds is the Diabolical Nightjar (shown here). There was actually known terrorist activity on the track, but without us knowing that what we were on was the Anaso Track, we still saw the birds and came out fine.
In total we saw two nightjars. This one is engaged in a threat display.
Another star endemic bird is the Purple-bearded Bee-eater, which we saw twice on the track
Later down on the track we came into a “birdstorm” with Mountain Cicadabirds, Ashy Woodpeckers, Sulawesi Pygmy Woodpeckers, and this Sulawesi Thrush.
After Lore Lindu we stayed at Lake Poso, where the friendly Pacific Swallows provided great photography practice.
The next major stop in Sulawesi was the Togian Islands, where we saw this Ashy Woodpecker (a Sulawesi endemic) excavating this palm tree.
One of my most-wanted Sulawesi birds was the Togian Boobook, a type of small owl endemic to the islands. On our first night we asked the lodge managers and they said that an owl comes almost every night to their trash pile to feed on insects. This owl has been named Kokoro, and we saw him many times.
Kokoro would often just sit in one place for a very long time, and you could just stand, and watch him hunt or eat or anything without bothering him.
Our final stop was potentially the place I had most wanted to go in Sulawesi, Bogani Nani Wartabone National Park. Sulawesi is well-known for its profusion of endemic kingfishers, and we quickly saw this Sulawesi Dwarf-kingfisher.
Several times we came across the endemic Pale-blue Monarch flitting around in the low branches.
Another endemic we saw soon after starting was this Bay Coucal, a type of large cuckoo-like bird.
This Sultan’s Cuckoo-dove posed for the camera, unlike many of the other birds seen on the hike.
The only large mammal we saw on the hike was this macaque, which gave us very good views.
We spent a while trying to get this beautiful Sulawesi Pitta to come out into the open, and eventually it did. Pittas are normally secretive, so I was very happy.
The highlight of Bogani Nani is the Maleo, a species of endangered megapode (more on that word later) endemic to Sulawesi. When we reached a snack point we found this baby Maleo just walking around and taking scraps of food from the ground. It was definitely wild, because it flew away later (baby megapodes learn to fly instantly).
This baby Maleo blew my mind with cuteness, rarity, and comfortableness. It felt like a tiny chicken that is endangered with only 8,000 to 14,000 individuals alive.
Megapodes are birds that do not incubate their eggs, but instead either build a mound of rotting vegetation and let the heat from the chemical reactions do the rest, or dig a hole in thermally heated earth or on a beach that absorbes the sun. When the eggs hatch, the chicks dig out, fly away and grow up. One of the main reasons for the Maleo’s decline has been the unsubstantial harvesting of Maleo eggs, since they are all grouped together, easy to get, and make good eating.
Sulawesi also has two endemic species of hornbill, and we saw one. The Knobbed Hornbill is one of the largest birds in Sulawesi and also one of the most colorful.
As we were almost leaving the park a large flock of hornbills came around us from all sides. Hornbills are easily located by the loud noise their wings make when they fly, but when you are in the middle of a flock it just feels like chaos.
poetry

ceding control

ceding control

illness imposes humility
the mortification of being reduced to
one’s bodily functions
malfunctioning
in public

unconcerned with politeness
the body has its way with one
does all manner of offensive things
and past the point of social graces
we surrender without shame
relieved by mere survival

poetry

knobbed hornbills overhead

Owen took these photos.

knobbed hornbills overhead

like the thick whoosh
of hot air balloon flame
they lift off

you don’t need to
let your eyes leave the trail
to know they’re overlooking you –
you feel it in the helicopter pulse
their wings make

if you’re lucky you might catch
a long black cross sailing away
and be satisfied

imagine then
seeing the pair clearly
flying down the open valley
level with the canopy
black bodies bookended by
yellow red & blue noble heads
and trailing white tails

and the most amazing part is
there’s still a forest big enough
for their grand presence

poetry

rash behavior

rash behavior

seabather’s eruption
or scrub mites
either way
something gets under your skin
the welts come
and you’re not the same

poetry

learning how to wait

learning how to wait

we Americans don’t know how to wait
like other people do:
burning long days
in the broiling tin-roofed tuck shop shack
waiting for a grubby kid
to buy a single pack of candy
comfortably squatting flat-footed
in the consulate’s courtyard for days
with only cigarettes for diversion
staking out the harbor
(any harbor anywhere)
now and then querying transport?
sitting in the Singapore doctor’s office
waiting for #1750 to appear
in red dot digits outside exam room A7

in the lands where queuing is a verb
an action one takes
an inescapable reality
they know (sometimes)
how to give themselves over
to the suspension of time
savor the need to not do
for an interminable spell

poetry

knowing what a dangerous creature wants

knowing what a dangerous creature wants

every night
after dark
the big bees buzz to life

desperate to throw themselves at fire
they hurl themselves
at any light
until they’re spent, senseless
spinning circles on their backs
and their fat black bodies
litter the floor
a minefield of stingers

it lasts no more than one hour
bee o’clock we call it
and take precautions
tonight we passed the time
snug inside the mosquito net
when all was quiet
I put the boys to bed

reentering our bungalow
headlamp burning low
to keep Alex asleep
a late bloomer came at me
and I reacted well
launched the light from my forehead
halfway across the room
while its legs hugged the plastic tight

now safe inside the netting
I sigh
thankful it’s not my first night here
and I knew what it would want

poetry

on going separate ways

on going separate ways

I expected strained
awkward uncertain unbalanced
tenuous
but was not prepared
for nothingness instead
not even registering
on her map of feeling
I’m sure as usual
he’s disappointed in us all

the breeze settles to a humid stall
and even the waves refuse to break
night bugs keep up their cadence
regardless what I do or don’t do
night deepens
and the days go on

poetry

Kokoro

Owen took this photo. Kokoro is the local name for the Togian hawk-owl, which was first described in the scientific literature in 2004. We saw this little owl several times at Bahia Tomini. The staff called this individual owl Kokoro, which is also the sound this species makes.

Kokoro

little Kokoro
materializing from black sky and palm leaf
a tiny spirit
to watch over our evenings

he sits quietly
never even murmuring his name
watching us with
round golden rings of alert eyes
his blade of a beak
a still secret
in the middle of his sweet gentle face

tonight he appeared
close enough to touch
wanting to not be missed
inviting us to say hello
and when Cedar stood alone with him
and whispered a kind greeting
Kokoro cocked his little head
all attention and understanding
fully engaged in their
friendly tête-à-tête

poetry

Togian Tank

Togian Tank

water like glass
smooth, edged with
conchoidal fractures
like aquamarine obsidian

and when we peep
through its lens
a fish tank
without bounds

poetry

23 October

23 October

all day I’ve been silently slipping
in and out of thoughts of you
your birthday ingrained
in my internal calendar
like my first address
a prime number

I still don’t know
what I was supposed to learn or do
what I was asked to give
how I should have changed

no one speaks of any of this here
alone I settle into
the deep confusion
your memory rends
like the sucking fountain
where the towers once stood
the darkness going down down down
deeper than light can go
into a silent still chamber
where no answers wait

after a time
I begin to ascend
glimpse the 3 warm pink bodies near me
throw my grappling hook at any and all
haul myself into sun
with enough strength left
to mumble
thank you for the alphabet soup
that brought five of us
into the light