Bukit Larut - 11th July 2010

Before any more delay, I had better write about this two-month-old trip lest my memories fade away. After a rather fruitful first day up at Maxwell Hill, I woke up early enough after a good night's sleep to have breakfast. As I was munching down bread, my ears pricked up when it heard this high pitched whistling coming from the slope leading down from the bungalow. I recognized it but couldn't believe my ears as this bird shouldn't be found at such a high altitude. It normally prefers lowland to submontane rainforest instead of 1113 metres a.s.l.

I went out to the front lawn to have a look around and sure enough - a Chestnut-naped Forktail Enicurus ruficapillus! It was perched at the base of a banana plant at the corner of the lawn. Its forked tail feathers moved in its characteristic motion too - spreading into a wide V while the tail is cocked up and closed back like a pair of scissors when the tail descends. How cute! I did not have my camera at that time and I regret it to this day because it was such a good opportunity to shoot it! When I tried to move back to the bungalow to grab my camera, it flew off 'tee-tee-tee-tee-tee'-ing away.

That's it. I'll gobble down my breakfast and get my gear all set up and ready! Even though the Forktail never came back, I was rewarded by a pair of Mountain Fulvettas Alcippe peracensis hawking for small months among the tree lined by Old Man's Beard Usnea spp.

Petite bird amongst the beard.

Doesn't look so petite now that we see it ripping a moth apart, does it?

Not long after, the same call I heard yesterday evening made me turn my head and my camera 180 degrees towards the back of the bungalow. There is was again - a male Red-bearded Bee-Eater Nyctyornis amictus sunning itself in the morning rays at the top of the tree. Its partner was not so obliging and was busy hunting for food already.

Basking in the limesunlight

Once it flew off, I went up the steps and tried to locate it again. I couldn't find it. So I just settled on shooting a male Black-throated Sunbird Aethopyga saturata which was happily preening itself in the shade of a small tree. It's a smart fellow! As it kept to the shade all of the time, I could not capture the metallic blue sheen and brilliant red of the feathers which would be in full glory in bright sunlight. I decided not to stay long because of that. What a pity!

Let's do the s-t-r-e-t-c-h to warm up!

I went down to the front lawn again as I intended to make my way up along the road to the Telekom station. This time, a family of Black-crested Bulbuls Pycnonotus flaviventris kept me occupied. There were two adults and a juvenile. The juvenile - as all juveniles are - kept still in the safety of a tree and hoped that its parents would bring some morsel of food for it. Luckily this time, the sunlight was shining right onto it and so I managed to obtain some decent shots. The parents, as usual, were busy hanging around the telephone wires to pick off any stray or weak moth for breakfast. The sun was just right and the Bulbuls simply glowed like ingots of gold.

Little Miss (or Master) Bulbul, sat on a... er... what rhymes with Bulbul?

A glowing Elvis Presley wannabe

 Our little juvenile then decides to be a little smarter. It flies up from the tree to a twig which was in the shade of a banana plant. At first, it held on tightly and must have felt proud to be brave. Lo and behold, a gust of wind blows the banana leaves and smacks our poor little juvenile right in the side! Yet it hung on and kept its balance for life! I really burst out laughing at this comical sight but I stifled my guffaw and told myself that it was actually no real laughing matter. It was just part of growing up and gaining experience about the outside world for this juvenile. And somehow, this scene reminded me of this speech:

"Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome. Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you: as Albert Mondego, the man!"

 - Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo (2002)

Ouch!

I wish the juvenile good health and survival!

After the lawn became quiet again, I headed down the bungalow steps and saw my mother coming up with a serious look on her face. She beckoned to me to come down quickly. Not long after, I heard a bird call on playback and I knew what our 'target' was. We hid ourselves around the jeep stop while waiting for the bird to appear. It did come out several times in response to the playback but did not land on an exposed branch for good photography.

We switched tactics. Dr Chan left the speaker at the base of the slope where the bird often came to. There was a pair of Maroon Woodpeckers Blythipicus rubiginosus, although one of them - presumably the more dominant male - was braver in its approach. We then noticed it usually kept coming back to a number of trees in that area and so, we repositioned ourselves for the next time it comes out.

Not before long, it landed again among those few trees and paused long enough for us to get a few pictures. However, lighting was dim and it was not easy to focus on the bird. Each round it came back, I tried a different setting for my camera and also attempted to use the flash. But my pictures turned out more flat and less natural compared to those taken without flash. I never wanted to use the flash again! You can observe for yourself the difference in the two pictures below.

This is with the flash - the eye glows white! And the feathers look flat.

Doesn't this look better? Best shots I have ever had of this bird!

After about ten rounds of the bird coming and going, I think it finally gave up as it just could not find the source of the other 'bird' invading its territory. It payed less and less heed to the playback and finally went about minding its own business with its partner once again. I was really happy because this was the first time in more than ten years that I have managed to see this bird fully exposed in the open. And even obtain decent photographs of it too!

It was late morning by the time we were done with the Woodpeckers. I just walked up the road a little to spend the remaining time before the jeep came. The forest was rather quiet and the only bird which was quite obliging was the usual Rufous-browed Flycatcher Ficedula solitaris. No matter how many times I have seen this bird and photographed it, I just cannot resist taking more photos of it every time! But then again, we shouldn't be taking these birds for granted because though they might be more common now, one day they will disappear altogether. Maxwell Hill won't even be open already to visitors for goodness knows how long, and I doubt that they'll carry out any development without first logging the place to earn more money. Sad, isn't it?

Let's hope this fragile little bird survives the winds of change

At 11 am, we boarded the jeep down and I leave Gunung Hijau Rest House behind with many fond memories and beautiful creatures. I hope I'll still have the chance to visit such a pristine place again in the near future.