Peru – Part 4: Los Pajaros

A horse looks at a bird.

That’s what we do, too.

In Lima, we look at blue-footed boobies.

And penguins.

In villages, we look at turkeys and chickens.

At the bird spotting tower, we spot a pink bird.

It’s a flamingo.

It hangs out with normal-billed ducks.

And blue-billed ducks.

And a white bird.

In the jungle, there is this bird.

And this bird.

And this bird.

Our guide bribes a man to get us into a secret passage.

We catch a glimpse of the official bird of Peru.

The cock-of-the-rock.

Elsewhere is this guy.

This hawk.

This woodpecker.

These cuddling parakeets.

This vulture.

This egret.

A fishing one.

This egret.

This tree chicken.

This thing.

This little guy.

These swamp pheasants.

This curious chap.

This flycatcher.

These distant macaws.

And these.

These tiny, hiding owls.

This large, obvious stork.

This oropendola, eating a fruit.

Oropendola.

Oropendola.

Oropendola.

An emerald hummingbird.

It rests.

Look at those splayed tail feathers.

This one is actually a chicken from our cabin. It goes for jungle walks.

This bright dude is not a chicken.

By the jungle lake, we spot this amazing monster.

Surely a rare sight!

Well, maybe not that rare.

The hoatzin. “the last surviving member of a bird line that branched off in its own direction 64 million years ago.”

Some nap in the trees.

Some curiously examine us.

Many curiously examine us.

It’s a curious prehistoric flighted chicken thing.

There are so many.

Like oropendola.

Oropendola.

That is the birds.