On the morning of 5th August 2007, Chan Yoke Meng succeeded in recording a series of images of a pair of Black-shouldered Kites (Elanus caeruleus) in the act of copulation. The female bird was perching at the top of a vertical dead stem of a tree when the male flew in from behind (above). Wings fully stretched, tail feathers fanned and talons at the ready, he landed on her back (below).

The moment he grasped her back with his talons, she crouched low with wings extending downwards below the tail. He had to maintain his balance by flapping his wings (below).

In a flash he made cloacal contact. It is during this “cloacal kiss” that sperm are transferred from the male’s cloaca into the cloaca of the female. The act was over in less than two seconds (below).

The cloacal contact caused the male to release his grip on her and he slipped down slightly before projecting himself upwards. All these movements caused the female to stabilise herself with wings outstretched (below).

With a final flap of his wings, the male flew off with wings fully stretched and feet hanging down, to finally glide away from the female.

According to the literature, copulation normally takes place at or around the nest site. And copulation can occur up to ten or more times a day for a few days. Prior to copulation, there would be aerial displays and courtship feeding, but these were not observed on that morning.

Subsequently, the pair continued with their nest building activities. Unfortunately there was a murder of crows around. And as with all House Crows (Corvus splendens), they harassed the pair of kites, so much so that the pair may have abandoned their nest building efforts.

Did the kites fly off to look for another nesting site? Away from the aggressive crows and where there is more privacy? Your guess is as good as mine.

Input and images by Chan Yoke Meng.

In May-July 2006 Mark Chan documented the breeding of a pair of Changeable Hawk Eagle (Spizaetus cirrhatus), both pale morph. The chick that resulted in the union was distinctly a pale morph. The head, neck and underparts were totally white with no markings at all. The local subspecies is limnaeetus.

In June the following year, Johnny Wee and Chan Yoke Meng managed to document the mating of a pale and a dark morph in Singapore (above). Like most other eagles, they build their nest of sticks lodged between the forks of branches in tall trees.

The chick in this case was a dark morph (below left). On 22nd June 2007, the dark morph parent was seen flying past the nest with food in its bill (below right). Was it trying to persuade the chick to fledge by not feeding it in the nest?

Apparently the parent failed as the very next day the chick was seen feeding on a rat in the nest, swallowing it whole (below).

The chick was regularly testing its wings in the nest, as seen on 27th June when the image below (left) was taken. It fledged on or before 6th July as the bird was then seen outside the nest (below right). The dark x pale morph progeny was not all dark, as there were distinct white patches on the breast and flanks (bleow).

The fledged chick returned regularly to the nesting tree for feeding sessions and to roost on the branches.

The Changeable Hawk Eagle exists in two distinct forms or colour morphs. This is a common form of polymorphism (poly = many; morph = form) that occurs in birds, particularly birds of prey.

In this eagle, there is a pale morph and a dark morph. The adult pale morph appears dark brown above and whitish with dark streaks below. Adult dark morph is totally blackish. Each morph may have specific advantages in certain habitats, like certain survival and reproductive advantages. However, what these are, we do not know.

Images by Johnny (chick eating rat) and Chan Yoke Meng (the rest).

It was nearly 5 pm in the evening when suddenly there was a heavy drizzle. The next moment the air was filled with the sharp, loud calls of a sunbird. The call was persistent, coming from my neighbour’s bougainvillea bush. There, perching on a bare branch was a male Olive-backed Sunbird (Cinnyris jugularis).

He was obviously enjoying the drizzle, darting here and there, fluffing his feathers, stretching his wings, fanning his tail and vigorously preening (left: top and middle).

He displayed himself by throwing his head back, puffing his chest, the better to show off his metallic blue-black frontal area (below: bottom left and rihgt). At times the edge glowed with iridescence. Calling loudly and incessantly, he was moving his head from one side to the other. Noticing a nearby leaf with droplets of rain, he darted off to soak up the drops (left bottom).

Only later when I processed the images did I notice a few more interesting points. Most times he had his long and narrow tongue projected well beyond the bill (left top). Was he trying to collect the raindrops? Also, the bright orange pectoral tufts that are usually displayed during courtship are prominent in many of the images (below:top left and right, bottom right). Some white coverts were also exposed, emerging from among the wing feathers (below: top right). The fanned tail displayed the central black-tipped feathers and white side feathers (below: bottom left and right).

With his constant movement and frequent darting, I am sure they are not as obvious through the binoculars. But then, I was armed with a camera, not a pair of binoculars.

Was the bird enjoying the heavy drizzle and having a bath, thus spreading and exposing his feathers? Including his pectoral tufts? Or was that also a courtship display, showing off to a nearby female as reported earlier by KC Tsang?

I did not see a female around him. Maybe I was not looking for one as I was then convinced that he was just enjoying the drizzle. I will keep a lookout for a female the next time.

There are 215 species of woodpeckers (Picidae) in the world. The word, ‘woodpecker’ is a synonymous word well known as a forest bird hammering or drumming at tree trunks, creating rattling sounds in search of tree grubs. Perhaps too… stating a territorial claim?

Woodpeckers are also popularly used as mimicry icons in commercials, television sit-com shows and cartoons. Their intelligent behaviours have been well documented in various field guides and observed with much fascination and added humour.

A recent visit to one of the forest reserves in Malaysia, encompassing more than 56,000 hectares of prime, tropical virgin forest, yielded further interesting observations of the largest species of all woodpeckers.

It brought out a trio of Great Slaty Woodpeckers (Mulleripicus pulverulentus) performing a dramatic sequence, leading to a finale performance of a well choreographed repertoire of a silhouetted singing trio, much to the amusement and delight of a one-person audience in an open-air, forest auditorium (left).

I chanced upon the site during one of my morning birding sessions. The ruckus and alarm calls that came from a tall, broadleaved deciduous tree caught my attention to some birds fleeting in the tree canopy.

As I looked up against the hazy, bad-lighted morning sky, I noted several restless birds that sounded like broadbills wailing away. I noticed dark, brown birds with two large white spots, each on the under winged coverts as one took off from the tall tree.

I could recognise the calls of a Dollarbird (Eurystomus orientalis) but these were no such birds nor could they be Common Mynas (Acridotheres tristis) mimicking calls. Could they be Banded Broadbills (Eurylaimus javanicus) high on my wanted list?

Before I had the opportunity to investigate and to confirm further, a pair of huge, grey looking birds with featherless long necks and sharp, chiselled-like pointed beaks suddenly appeared from some unknown perch.

It’s the arrival of the Great Slatys!

Their powerful ringing cries, their sheer huge size of 45-51cm length and rapid flapping of their heavy wings sent those canopy birds scrambling as the two Great Slaty Woodpeckers, Thor and Teresa, made their arrivals known.

They landed on their favourite perch – a horizontal branch of the tall deciduous tree (right).

At about 50 feet away, they were the closest sighting of Great Slatys and the largest of all the 42 species of SE Asean species, if not the world… I’ve seen!

Thor the male began inspecting two large cavities of the trunk nearby. When these cavities first appeared, I had no idea. But they looked a bit too large for barbets or woodpeckers – their size, being half of the Great Slatys.

Could they be old, used cavities made by Great Slatys?

Do they make cavities first and then mate afterwards?

Thor, the macho Grey Slaty, recognised by his broad, red moustachial stripe, began a perpendicular ascend and worked his way up, scaling the trunk with his polydactilous feet (above left).

The distinctive shrill notes of Teresa, the female Great Slaty, sounded like pulling the trigger of a semi-automatic, machine gun. The enticing calls caught the attention of Thickneck, the second, male partner bird that was hiding in the canopy of a tree opposite.

Thickneck was dueting with Teresa. I could hear his calls but could not see him as he remained hidden.

On hearing a keen competitor, Thor swiftly flew off the trunk, circled down and alighted beside Teresa, announcing his presence.

Woodpeckers may reverse their steps but are unable to scale down trees with their heads downwards like nuthatches.

Thickneck flew into view and decided he too was in a mood for some action. He landed cautiously on the same horizontal branch, obscured by the main trunk of the tree, a little distance away from the pair.

Thor wasted no time to mount Teresa. A copulation act, lasted just about a second took place under two parallel strings of cobwebs as captured on my digiscope (above right).

“Me… first! Me…first!” squeaked Thor, the No.1 partner.

“Just what you think you are doooing…?” asked Thickneck,

“Oh, go away! Can’t we have a bit of privacy here… you mind?” Thor replied abruptly.

“What’s the hurry Thor? I was just having a bit of a ‘sing song’ session with Teresa, that’s all.” added No. 2 partner, quite innocently.

“Don’t believe ya!” replied Thor.

He dismounted and alighted on the tree trunk with two cavities. He then began an act of territorial advertisement by symbolically drumming on the trunk (above left).

“Tok Tok Tok Tok Tok!”

‘This patch is mine, mine, mine! You hear?” hollered Thor.

Thickhead followed after Thor (above right).

“I want a bit of banging too…” squawked Thickhead, as he chased Thor up the tree and proceeded to rapidly hammer the trunk with his chiselled-shape bill competitively.

Territorial and lover’s dispute went on for five minutes.

Having reconciled their differences I thought, the trio led by Thor, released their grips on the trunk and abseiled in undulating flights towards a tall ficus-looking tree, more than 200 metres away.

The trio landed in equidistant from each other. Thor took top position, Thickhead below with Teresa in between them both.

The result, is a rare opportunity to present and view the beautifully choreographed behaviours of lovers’ quarrel - all very well synchronised by their raising of wings, each time they squawked harmoniously in avian language (above and below). Their expression and body language said it all!

Sounds familiar?

AVIAN WRITER DAISY O’NEILL, PENANG, MALAYSIA

“There it was, sitting pretty on a bare branch, wagging its tail in as carefree a manner as you would expect of a wild bird in love. When it swished its head left and right to survey its environs for potential snacks, its flowing purple beard swooshed along in grand fashion. Our hearts half-stopped as we oohed and aahed over the Purple-bearded Bee-eater (Meropogon forsteni), looking most resplendent in purple feathers covering its head, throat and breast, contrasting with its green upper parts, wings and tail streamers, and rich brown belly. Its elongated throat feathers hung over its breast in a “beard” that made it look sombre, yet somewhat comical.

“Out of nowhere, another bee-eater landed suddenly on the same branch. Two purple beauties! We were beside ourselves with excitement! I inched forward to photograph the pair with my tiny camera. Without warning, the first bird lowered its body by leaning forward until its belly touched the branch. Apparently, this was the female, and she was actually prepping herself for mating. Her position was so precarious, compared to her typical upright posture, that she looked ready to topple off the branch altogether. Grasping the opportunity, the male hopped onto her back and the mating session was over in the blink of an eye. And I had unwittingly captured a shot of these birds in union! Just as quickly as it happened, both birds flew off, leaving us exultant and a little dazed.

“The Purple-bearded Bee-eater is definitely one of the highlights of any birder’s trip to Lore Lindu National Park in Central Sulawesi, Indonesia. It is endemic to Sulawesi, found only on this island and nowhere else on earth. Three of us, Yong Ding Li, Goh Yue Yun and myself worked the tough, steep slopes of the Anaso Track of Mount Rorekatimbu for five full days to see this bird and other montane endemics, from 28 May to 1 June 2007. The Sulawesi leg was the last of our 4-island East Indonesian birding tour that Ding Li and I were on, covering also West Timor, Flores and Bali.

[The two images of the Purple-bearded Bee-eater above are courtesy of Paul Pearson (left) and Andy Rhodes (right). The image below is by Pete Morris of Birdquest.]

“Over the next few days, we spotted three pairs of these bee-eaters, always hanging around three points along the Anaso Track. These hang-outs had one thing in common – they were all in open areas and near sandy ravines that provided suitable nesting ground for the birds. Purple-bearded Bee-eaters are known to dig burrows in steep banks near forest streams, cliffs, high-level roads, and banks by forest paths. The burrows serve as nests for the bee-eaters.

“We also observed them engaged in typical bee-eater hunts. From its perch, the bee-eater surveys its immediate vicinity. When it spots something, it swoops forward in a graceful arc, returning to its perch with a struggling insect (usually bees, beetles, wasps or dragonflies) clamped tight in its long beak. The insect is then smashed repeatedly on the branch to kill it, and to remove any indigestible parts (like a bee’s sting) and venom. It is then swallowed whole. During sallies, the Purple-bearded Bee-eater might emit a quiet, shrill “szit” or “peet” call. Curiously, bee-eaters are programmed to catch only flying insects. The moment an insect lands, it loses interest even if its prey is in plain sight.

“Together with the Red-bearded Bee-eater (Nyctyornis amictus) and Blue-bearded Bee-eater (Nyctyornis athertoni), the Purple-bearded Bee-eater completes the bearded bee-eater family Nyctyornithidae. All other bee-eaters belong to the family Meropidae.”

Top images of the copulating birds by Gloria, others by Paul Pearson, Andy Rhodes and Pete Morris.

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