Hiking the Passiflora Trail

April 27

7:04am Last night after a marvelously decorative dinner, Gerardo brought us a Bufo marinus to inspect -- a HUGE toad about 8” long and 4” wide. As Gerardo was showing us the huge glands behind its eyes which exude an irritant (to discourage predators), the toad swelled up bigger and bigger as it gulped down air. Soon it resembled a cantaloup with a face and legs. When Gerardo released it, it gradually deflated and hopped away into the shadows.

Only four frogs serenaded us from the pool during the night, but no eggs floated on the surface this morning. Perhaps the frogs gathered to reminisce about the delightful time they’d had the night before. Or perhaps the guys came back to brag while the ladies went off the recuperate. That seems more likely...

There were ten crabs in the pool this morning (two expired) but I fished out the rest with the net. These land crabs live out in the forest in holes in the ground. I saw one yesterday on the Ridge Trail popping back into its lair.

8:55am This morning I’m hiking the Passiflora Trail. Daniel drove me up to the trailhead in an El Remanso car because it’s a steep climb and I stubbed my toe yesterday (it’s a bit swollen, but I can’t miss an adventure!). At the trailhead we watched a troop of titi’s (squirrel monkeys) crossing overhead, one with a baby, tiny enough to have held in the palm of my hand, riding on her back. Then a troop of carablancas (capuchins) followed, leaping from branch to branch fearlessly. I’m working on my Spanish, and it’s fun learning new words.

Only a few steps into the shadowy trail I startled up a quail-like bird, very quiet and mousy, which I had trouble seeing in the dim light. It may have had markings, but I couldn't see any as it tip-toed furtively into the dark under some big leaves. (Later: Joel says it was probably a Little Tinamou.)

More monkeys are overhead. Titis are barking like chihuahuas and dropping hard little fruits down on me, and a bit farther away a sound like someone throwing around sheets of cardboard or heavy paper is capuchins leaping through heavy leaves in the canopy. It has begun to shower lightly – I heard its approach as a light tapping on the canopy to the southwest. I looked for the darkest bit of canopy to stand under and I’m staying dry enough to keep writing. This may last awhile.

I just sketched a young monkey ladder vine detail. I love this vine with its pockety flat lianas and split leaves. Some of the vines grow as big around as my waist at their bases on Ridge Trail. (Later: I found and photographed a really big one on this ridge, too)

The carablancas are now almost directly overhead. When they make a long leap, big water droplets come plummeting down. So far I haven’t gotten drenched.

10:40am I’m having a delightfully poky morning trying to spot creatures before they spot me. I have had success with an anole, two katydids and a giant cockroach. They blend in or hide so perfectly, they're hard to see before they leap (and it's even harder to get a crisp, clear photo in the dim light).

There are some incredible giant buttressed trees in this part of the forest. Joel recently went out with Dan and Gerardo, and they found bats, spiders and other fine things in the crevices of buttressed trees. Wish I had a flashlight!

4:19pm I'm back from my hike and it’s downpouring. Sitting on our cabina's veranda, I am dry and content to watch the natural libation. Daniel and I had planned to go down to the beach this afternoon, but we paused for a siesta and it began to rain. The downspouts are flowing, the sea is silver, the pool is rippling with dimples and the air is soft and cool. Actually, I don’t mind the enforced relaxation.

Over the roof of the restaurant I can see the red and blue flash of macaws, and there’s no missing their raucous, grating cries. They speak often to each other over their fruity lunches and as they fly two-by-two, hither and yon, over El Remanso. The toucans, with their outsize bills and brilliant markings, sing a melancholy hooting cry and fly singly, while the green parrots gabble noisily and labor mightily as they flap along.

I’ve been sketching the skulls in the skull box. I love skulls, and I've been experimenting with the various colors one can use to show "white." I did the pizote skull yesterday with lavender and yellow.

Today I'm going to try blue and black (gray, more likely) on the monkey skull, then maybe ochre for the sloth skull. The skulls are actually all a sort of grayish-white, but hey, I'm the artist here!

1st Day's Class

April 22

5:41 am, very humid

When I first dressed this morning, my clothes were as damp as though I'd run them only halfway through a dryer setting, but now that I've warmed them up, they’re starting to feel okay.

My first workshop session is this morning, and I’m ready to go. My students are a mixed bag, but all are beginners to nature drawing. Ann has taken the course before, and I don’t quite know how that will work, but it will all shake out, I expect. Joel wants to be able to draw what he finds out on the trails. He knows a lot about the plants and animals, so he should be able to identify what we draw. Adriana has painted for fun, and loves art but hasn’t had any instruction in drawing accurately, which is what she’d like to be able to do. Belen doesn’t really believe she can draw at all, but is willing to give it a try. Usually my classes have ten to twelve students – I keep them small so that I can give personal attention to everyone. But since this is a pilot project for the lodge, I have only the four students.

I sit writing in the quickly-brightening dawn, Daniel has netted a dead forest crab from the pool. They wander in from the woods, approach the pool for a drink, and fall in. If they’re fished out at dawn, most survive their impromptu swim, emerging lively and ready for a fight. This one didn’t, so I’ve sketched it here. This one’s carapace is about 1 ¼”wide, smaller than one I saw yesterday, which was wider than 2”.

4pm – much cooler at 81 degrees

Today was my first class and it went very well. That's Adriana at left, then la professora (?!), Ann, Belen and Joel.

I have made an interesting discovery: the HB (medium black) pencils which I always use are not the best choice for this moist climate! The line they make is very light unless you press hard, which then indents the paper and makes erasing difficult. Shading is harder, too, as you simply can’t get a really dark tone. It works better on the heavier paper I had bound into the back of the workbooks for assignments because that paper is sturdier and has some roughness (tooth) to it. Additionally, the tortillons (smudgers used to shade smoothly) also don’t work as well as they do on dry paper.

It looks like for humid climates a 2B lead on the rougher paper would work best. I don’t have those supplies with me now and there is no place to get them out here in the jungle. Still, that doesn’t materially affect the lessons. I can see I’ll need to be adaptable, though!

My students are working hard, and I think it's going to be okay that Ann has taken the class before (just last month) because she hasn’t had time to work on her art since then. However, a fascinating thing has occurred: I’ve never had a repeat student start at the beginning before as Ann is doing – she wanted to do that because she said she needed the practice. But her drawing skills have increased markedly since the previous workshop – her work is really excellent now, whereas it was good -- but not extraordinary -- before.

I wonder if Ann’s right brain continued to explore and improve over the course of the month, even though she didn’t sketch with it??? The other students are working hard, (today they drew skulls and fruit) although Belen is still convinced that she can’t draw. Joel and Adriana are also being pretty hard on themselves, but I’m seeing great progress. Plenty of improvement for a first day.

The lodge naturalist, also named Irené but pronounced Ih-ray-nay, brought us a huge cicada, 2¾" long, to draw. I’ve had fun drawing it, especially trying to show the body through the semi-transparent wings. I’ve glued a real wing I found on a trail next to the drawing. The cicadas are so amazing. In their favorite areas, the air is throbbing with their shrill zzzzzzzz. When they fly, they just launch off in a general direction and flap as hard as they can to get to a landing spot. They bump into all sorts of things and eventually arrive, but it ain't graceful!

By the way, this is Daniel. We've had a LOT of adventures together.