Point South Mexico - Real Estate and Lifestyle Magazine

Traveling in Spain recently, my friends and I concentrated on seeing the fabulous art and historic sites throughout that magnificent country. This was not meant to be a birding trip, alas. We did drive along the scenic coast, and eventually down to Donana National Park, where we spent a day indulging in nature. During the drive we were treated to the lovely site of hundreds of pink flamingos feeding in wetland areas alongside the road. Flamingos are both graceful and ungainly in appearance…tall, pink-colored wading birds, with long legs that dangle behind them as they fly, and equally long necks, topped off by a small head with a curved beak that looks as if it could crack walnuts. (Actually their beaks are made to scoop up the briny water which contains the plankton and tiny fish on which they feed). Spain has a large wetland preserve for flamingos, and as we whizzed by the flamingos we saw by the highway, I regretted that our busy schedule of touring art and cultural sites in Spain would not permit a visit.

We traveled back in time recently, to the era of the haciendas, to a time reminiscent of Old Mexico.  We first took a trip to Talpa, which is high in the mountains of Jalisco, and renowned for its Virgin, who is depicted on postcards, chicle sculptures and T-shirts. The road is long, sinuous and treacherous, climbing the mountain while approaching some breathtaking curves. Talpa is a destination for religious pilgrims, who in a display of fervent devotion walk many miles along this dangerous road to reach the cathedral where the Virgin resides. Above, in the sky, having a far easier time of making the ascent, glide vultures and hawks, surveying the terrain below. They don’t have any interest in paying homage to the Virgin of Talpa, but in finding carrion or prey to eat.

Alongside the toll road to the Pacific coast, on the way to the beach towns of Barra de Navidad, Cuyutlan and others lays the shallow salt marsh of the once great lake Sayula.  Nestled in the valley of the Tapapla and Tigre mountains of the Sierra Madre, Sayula was once part of a great inland sea that encompassed Lake Chapala, Lake Cajititlan, and more.  It has held great historical significance as a trading post for the Tarascans, who mined the salt in the lake, and traded it with other indigenous peoples.  Now, for much of the year, the lake bed is dry.  But beginning at the end of the rainy season, water covers the area and provides an important migratory stopover for birds leaving their summer nesting grounds and winging their way south.  Literally thousands of avocets, black necked stilts, snow geese and other species over winter at Sayula.  Some just stop by as a place to rest and fuel up, and continue their journey to their winter homes. Fifty-six species of waterfowl have been documented there, including 5 species considered at global risk. This past year, Sayula’s ecological significance was demonstrated by its inclusion in the Ramsar convention as a wetland of international importance.

Birding in the proximity of one's home takes on a whole new dimension in Mexico because we are afforded the opportunity to see some absolutely delightful creatures all within the comforts of the terraza, mirador or pool. In my previous incarnation as a longtime resident of Massachusetts the two most familiar backyard birds were the black-capped chickadee and the American robin. But here, I get to see birds that many nature tourists travel some distance to put on their life list, just while lazing about my house. Ahhh...Mexico!

I have been making a lot of trips to the border recently and that has cut down on my time in nature. Being stuck behind the wheel of a car for many hours can be monotonous, so to compensate, I have taken up car birding. I freely acknowledge that craning one's neck skyward while hurtling down the autopista is not the sanest thing to do. Nor is bird watching at breakneck speed really relaxing or particularly safe. It can, however, be rewarding. Larger species tend to be the focus of fast car birding as you can more easily spot the big birds, whether they be the stately tall egrets poised at the sides of ponds, or large plump hawks perched on tree limbs, waiting for small prey to happen by. Whiling away the hours during marathon drives towards Laredo, I like to keep track of how many different species I can see, and which species is the most prolific. The hands down winner of my last road trip has to be the large, dark bird often spotted soaring in the distance, gliding majestically above the mountains and valleys: the yurkey vulture.