Nature Journaling in Belize 3

I tried out two cabanas while at Macaw Bank Jungle Lodge. This one is Butterfly, and it had a desk that would make a better drawing table than the one I was using in Macaw Cabana. Henri graciously helped me move, about halfway through my stay.

Mostly I only used the desk in the evenings, to add color to my drawings. If it rained during the daytime ~ and it did occasionally rain, 'cause this is the jungle and rain (and heat) are what MAKE it a jungle ~ I sometimes sat in my open doorway and drew from there. For the most part, though, the warm, mostly misty rain was nice to be out in and I just hooked an umbrella to my belt with a carabiner if rain looked eminent.

[BTW: I was using watercolor pencils to add color to my drawings, and discovered, on about the fifth day in the jungle with 100% humidity, that when I'd try to make a mark with the pencil the the pigment point would BEND! As a workaround, I dabbed color off the end of the pencil with the paintbrush ~ this works fine, by the way, but it's not how one expects to use watercolor pencils. As they absorbed moisture, the "leads" got limper daily, soon becoming about the consistency of lipstick. Then, to my dismay, the softening, swelling pigments actually split their wooden pencil casings!

Since my return to Oregon (and, roughly, 30-45% humidity), they've returned to their former hardness and the split pencils have regained their usual shape. So be forewarned ~ if you plan to use watercolor pencils in a humid place, either store them in a drybag or use regular watercolor pigments instead.]

Sketching en pleine air, a fancy way of saying "outdoors," isn't always feasible, and sometimes I took photos with the intent of drawing from the camera later. This is really easy with the newer digital cameras with large viewing screens.

For instance, Tallulah, the resident coati, moved like quicksilver as she zipped up and down trees searching for insects under loose bark or attached to the undersides of leaves and stems. Even the camera sometimes only caught a blur. So sketching would have been a losing prospect as I scrambled through tangled undergrowth trying to keep her in sight. But I did manage to get a couple of photos from which I could make this sketch.

Other subjects also posed difficulty. Butterflies, of course, would NEVER alight long enough for a good sketch, the cinnamon-red bracket fungus was on a steep hillside in a pile of branches and sticks, and the wasp nest attached to the underside of a thorny palm really didn't lend itself to a close inspection, much less a lengthy drawing session! Frequently, bullhorn acacias, inhabited by nasty, hot-headed ants which apparently craved an armed encounter with me, kept me from getting close to some other subjects. No, sometimes drawing conditions were not ideal, by any means.

Other times I got lucky. One day I discovered huge, 5" tall contribo flowers, with their 12" tails, hanging over a trail. I found this spent flower lying in the path, so I carried it along and sat on the riverbank for a couple of hours sketching and coloring it. Despite its lovely aspect, the contribo is a really smelly carnivorous plant, and uses a pitfall system similar to that of pitcher plants, trapping and disassembling insects in a pool of digestive fluid. But it was great fun to draw. Its specific name is Aristolochia trilobata.

Since I had a new camera, I spent some time playing with one of the really neat features, the panorama button.

On the bank overlooking the river was an ancient Ceiba tree which was estimated by a visiting botanist to have been a sapling when the Mayans were building their temples. It was fun trying to encompass its entire height in one picture, but even so I couldn't back up far enough to include the amazing width of the buttresses in their totality.

Buttresses (long, skinny above-ground root-like fins) prop up many species of really old jungle trees. Jungle soil gets so much rain that it washes away and never builds up a deep loam on the ground. Trees are consequently anchored in a thin layer of soil and could be easily blown down in a hurricane without their buttresses.

I sketched this magnificent 20' buttress that anchors one of the other old trees near the river.

Alas, my eleven days at Macaw River Jungle Lodge were nearly ended. One warm, humid day I carried a big black innertube upriver, passing through a wide savannah to put in upstream of the lodge. Then I spent a couple of dreamy hours slip-sliding down the Macal River past huge trees draped with hanging lianas and decorated with hanging ant nests.

A couple of rapids added excitement ~ but not too much, since I was on my own and not really seeking high adventure ~ and several huge orange iguanas sneered down at me from their high roosts above the water as I passed beneath.

On my last afternoon, walking in a melancholy Eeorish manner along a river path, ("Oh dear, my last day. I'll probably never see this tree again. I'll never walk this path again. Oh dear!!") I was rewarded with the appearance of this delicate lacy-skirted mushroom called a Veiled Lady. Definitely cheered up, I drew it on the last page of my journal.

So. We have traveled together, dear friend, through the seventeen days of my sojourn on Belizean beach and in Belizean jungle.

There are 24 pages in my sketch journal, and I invite you ~ in a couple of months ~ to visit my website to download a copy if you are still interested.

Thanks for coming by! Leave a message if you have enjoyed this, so I'll know whether I should bother to blog the next journey I make. I'm considering one to South Africa........

Nature Journaling in Belize 2

The jungle is a fascinating place if you keep your eyes open and don't jump at every crackle or strange noise. This lovely passionflower was glowing right beside the trail on one of my forays.

But there were lots of crackles and strange noises, most of which could be attributed to birds, squirrels or just the breeze rustling the fronds of a papery palm leaf. There were probably eyes watching me at all times, ones I had no idea of, but hey, that's part of what makes people watch horror movies ~ that desire to be living on the edge of excitement. So I welcomed in all of the strange things (well, not the ticks!) and had a great time.

Ron warned me about ticks. Only one other guest, he said, had ever gotten ticks, and that was because they were crawling about in the greenery looking for insects. Hmmm..... "But," he said, "while they do itch, they don't carry Lyme Disease."

So since I planned to be poking around in the shrubbery, I decided to take my chances. I got a few, but they were teensy things and easily plucked off. I get ticks all the time around my house in Oregon, anyway, so it was no big deal, and worth the adventures.

I mean, look at that curious mantis staring (guiltily?) back over its shoulder at me. It looks like someone "caught in the act," doesn't it? I met that little fellow off-trail.

And I was totally entranced with this amazing Clearwing Butterfly. You can see right through its wings. Butterflies are normally not my forte, but Belizean butterflies seemed to be tamer and less likely to fly than most butterflies I've tried to photograph before, and this picture was taken from about two inches away.

I fell in love with the Macal River, which flows past the end of the trail from the lodge. Cattle egrets swooped in every night to roost in these trees, spangling the darkening riverbank with sparkles of white. Kingfishers clacked up and down its length, diving for the small silvery fish that flashed in its shallows.

I spent a lot of time down there sketching, and actually spotted a crocodile species which hadn't been known to spend any time in the immediate vicinity. That was a Morelet's Crocodile, a small, docile creature which has, on occasion, dined on a cat or other small creature, but wouldn't THINK of bothering big folk like me. Or you.

And look at this colorful king vulture that landed in a big tree just across the river from me. Imagine a vulture being so winsome as that.

Well, as you can see, I was having the time of my life.

Every night, Ron and Al cooked delicious dinners, and we chatted afterward by the light of kerosene lamps. I really enjoyed those evenings. The lodge has electricity, but only kerosene lamps are used for lighting in the thatch-roofed open-air restaurant, which gives meals a charming intimate air.

There was always hot coffee and toast ready for me at breakfast time (I eat a small breakfast ~ I think Ron was distressed at my deficient appetite because he delights in creating delicious breakfast fare and toast doesn't quite cut the mustard). When other guests were there Ron spent this time helping them figure out how to spend their day, how to get to interesting places, and connecting them up with their tour guides if they were off to see the sights.

I was having such fun (and I was on a limited budget, too) so I only did one outside tour during my stay, a visit to Caracol, an ancient Mayan ruin, for about $85. This ruin complex measures 12 miles across and once had a population of more than 140,000 people. We just visited a tiny part of it, but it was amazing.

There are still a lot of undiscovered or unexcavated ruins in Central America, and many of them just look like hills. You can see from this partially excavated ruin at Caracol how you might mistake the tree-covered hump of a ruin for a hill! Henri took me to see some ruins near the Jungle Lodge, which are totally unexcavated, and if I hadn't been told they were ruins, I'd never have guessed.

Once they're excavated and restored, however, they can be MOST imposing. Here's the main (so far) ruin uncovered at Caracol. It is much bigger than it looks here (there are people in that photo).

The Mayan people still live all around this area. Both of the young men on the Macaw Bank Jungle Lodge staff, Henri and Angel, have Mayan roots.

I'm still learning how to do scenery, so sketching the ruin was a real challenge for me. I wanted to show some of the glyphs, too, so I did a detail to show them up close, then an arrow points to where they were on the ruin. You may have to squint at it to get the full effect of the glyph!

Some people go out every day on a new sight-seeing tour, but I was glad I had set my sights on Seeing One Little Part Of The Jungle Well.

I had daily adventures just a few feet from my door ~ watching a "hand" of bananas mature over the deck of my cabana, for instance. Discovering several colonies of brilliant red mushrooms. Finding trees covered with huge thorns.
EVERY time I went out, I discovered wonders that left me saying "Wow! and "OMG!" ("Omg" is really hard to say, y'know! Try it! )

Anyway, more wonders tomorrow!
See you then!

Second Day at Otorongo Lodge ~ Dec. 23, 2010

12/23

[warning: there are two images of spiders in this blog,in case
you are one of those people who panic at the sight of eight hairy legs]

Dawn found me hanging over the bannister outside my door to drink in all the sights and sounds. The night before I'd been lullabied to sleep by all manner of frogs, crickets, and perhaps nightbirds. This morning I was awakened by a choir of birds, including the liquid "coo-bloop-wheeoo" of either an oropendula or yellow-rumped caciques (I never did sort that out). Birds were flitting through the trees across a narrow strip of garden as the sky quickly brightened.

Today we'd go in search of a giant Ceiba tree, across the Amazon and up a small tributary to the south. There were many birds to see along the way: egrets, hawks, yellow-rumped caciques (say Ka-SEEKs), long-toed jacanas, and many others. Fishermen plied the waters with nets ~ several nets were strung across the river and our boatman had to lift the motor to cross over them.

We passed one little boy diligently rowing a long boat with a younger girl aboard. They eyed us solemnly as we passed. I drew them later from my camera viewfinder. Here's the page they're on.

There were numerous little land holdings on the banks we passed. Here's an assortment of things we saw. from left to right: a tree full of the hanging nests of yellow-rumped caciques, the boat children, and a small farm with black pigs roaming free.







At length our boat swung into shore and we climbed a steep bank up into the dim forest. It was beautiful inside, and within a few yards we accidentally walked through the web of a golden-silk spider ~ if you live in the southern US, you will be familiar with this big orb-weaver. In the Everglades they make orbs that span the boardwalks. This one was even bigger, and Osmar twisted some of the web together and gave it to me (it's glued into my journal just above the boat children, on the right edge ~ see above).

After a short walk, following the boatman who was swinging a machete (plants grow so fast in the jungle that a machete-cleared trail will grow back together in a very short time) we came to the giant ceiba tree. It was unimaginably huge, with buttresses stretching out fifteen feet to the side. Osmar took a picture of me with the binoculars, standing at the base of the tree, but it doesn't really show the size. On the opposite side of the tree, in an open space, I could get far enough away to see it, so I took three vertical pictures which I have stitched together here. I used the image of me from the other picture to try to show you how very small I am compared to that tree. I couldn't get over the immensity of the tree and its wall-like buttresses.

Near the Ceiba tree, Osmar found a Crested Forest Toad (we thought it was a Sharp-nosed Toad, but the stripe down its back means it's the Crested Forest Toad). I sketched it on the sketch page above. On our way back to the boat we surprised a praying mantis building an egg case.

Rain started misting down as we descended the bank to the boat, but this is the rain forest, after all, and since the air was warm and the mist wasn't really cold, it turned out to not be a problem EXCEPT....

And here, dear followers of my packing blog, I have to confess to the failure of my lovely bandana/hat invention due to humidity. If you recall, I explained how to turn your bandana into a sun hat. But on the boat, when the sun appeared and I pulled my bandana out of my bag and folded it into a sun hat, I realized that the 100% humidity of the Amazon completely spoils the effect (and effectiveness) of the thing. It's a flop (literally) in a humid climate. Oh well, it'll still work for desert rats and people that live in "normal" humidity.

We got back in time for lunch and I had a chance to get acquainted with some of the denizens of Otorongo. Our host Antony was playing with Ara, the Scarlet Macaw. That bird shrieks "Lara, Lara, Lara" frequently, and I thought that was her name, but it seems that Antony named her Ara for her specific name, Ara macao. The Blue-and-Yellow Macaw (Ara ararauna) is named Azul, which is Spanish for blue. They have the run of the place during the daytime but are put in an enclosure at night so they won't be eaten.

The Spix's Guan also runs free. Her name is Penelope, and she pecks shiny things. You don't want to get your shiny eyes too close to her beak...

And here is Tio Juan (Uncle John). He is a Yellow-ridged Toucan, Rhamphastos culminatus and a real clown. He terrorizes anyone who shows the slightest fear of him, but it's mostly bluff. I managed to get up the nerve to make "friends" with him after a couple of days, always being aware that he could do damage with that bill and that I had to be really careful to keep my face out of range.

Early afternoon was generally reserved for siestas in the hammock room (a lovely, cool screened porch with six hammocks rayed out from a central pole to the sides of the room.) In one of the hammocks I would nap, or sketch seedpods and snails, sketch from my camera viewfinder, paint my drawings with watercolor pencils, and glue in things like the golden-silk spider web.

Discovering that Osmar was interested in trying his hand at sketching, I sat him down with an assignment (ever the teacher!) to see what he could do, and realized, looking at his first-ever drawing (done in ballpoint pen, at that) that he has a lot of potential.

So from that time on, whenever it worked for both of us, I provided him with a pad and pen, and gave him sketching lessons, first in drawing, then later in coloring with the watercolor pencils, and we worked quietly together through the hours. He was an apt student.

Earlier that day I had gone exploring in the kitchen garden and discovered a tarantula holed up in the top of a pineapple plant. Looking down into the top, I could only see its furry orange toes. Osmar said it would come out at night, so that night I went back and took a photo. Here it is, ready for intruders coming up from the ground.

Tomorrow we look for hoatzins ~ prehistoric-looking chicken-like birds that appear to be having a perpetual "bad hair day."