Freedom is green and hard to find

The beauty of the resplendent quetzal and the challenges they face

“The female was spotted!” whispered the guide. A colourful shadow flashed between the treetops of the Monteverde cloud forest.

Only two days prior did I discover that the quetzal, Guatemala’s elusive national bird, was easier to spot in the cloud forest of Costa Rica, than Guatemala. I was dozing in and out of sleep, as our bus traversed the dirt roads until our local guide mentioned that we might come across one if we were lucky. I’d never thought I’d see a quetzal in the wild, yet here was my chance. My jaw dropped and I spent the rest of the journey imagining what it would be like to see it with my own eyes.

We’d been walking through Monteverde Reserve for about an hour, soaking in the wonders around us. From the way the sunlight trickled down through the canopy, to the way the moss climbed tirelessly skyward, the forest felt alive and timeless.

Then some passers-by with telescopes whispered vivaciously in our direction “We just saw the female over there!”. In the hope that she was headed towards the nestbox, we hurried in that direction.

Nest box (bottom right) for quetzals among the trees in Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Reserve, Costa Rica

Quetzals can leave the nest for up to two hours at a time, so we weren’t sure how long we’d be standing there, but our giddy optimism kept us patient. I stood in anticipation listening to the magic cacophony of jungle sounds. Everything had a purpose, everything was intentional. The rain didn’t ask if it was okay to fall, the howler monkeys did not fear being too loud and the quetzal did not care that we were waiting to see it. But around fifteen minutes later, there she was.

Female quetzal in Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Reserve, Costa Rica

A wave of calm passed over me. Time stood still. I was in awe of her emerald coat of feathers hand-painted by Mother Nature. She was poised regally on a branch with a verdant curtain of leaves glowing behind her, emphasising her presence. Despite her size, she moved swiftly through the trees, only pausing for a few moments at a time. Just long enough for us to see her peering down at us from above with eyes of obsidian, and to gaze upon her feathers that had an iridescence rivalling the shimmer of morning dew.

The female is spectacular, but I was still eager to see the male and its iconic tail streamers. These feathers are so dazzling that the Mayans and Aztecs traded them with the same enthusiasm as precious metals. Thankfully, they are no longer used as a currency, but the Guatemalan currency today is named after this ethereal bird.

I stayed behind in the forest that day in the hope of seeing the male. I waited for 4 hours by the nest, with my camera at the ready. Although the pair are supposed to take turns caring for the nest, the male never showed. I must have scanned the trees a thousand times to no avail.

I wasn’t the first to recognise that the female spent much more time attending to the nest. Jennifer Heller, a researcher from the University of South Florida, noticed the same thing. So, it’s perhaps not too much of a surprise that I managed to see the female again. This time with a grasshopper to feed her hungry chicks. I will say, the wait was still worth it to see her one last time.

Climate change and threats to quetzals

You may be wondering why she’s raising chicks in this man-made box. Climate change is to blame. As rainfall intensity increases with climate change, naturalist and local guide Johnny, noticed that the quetzals in Monteverde struggled to find adequate places to nest. The wood was so waterlogged that it either collapsed or could not support their nesting attempts. So he upcycled this wood from a jewellery store and they have been using it ever since.

Female quetzal in nest box in Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Reserve made by naturalist and local guide Johnny

Falling trees aren’t the only thing these birds have to worry about. Different species inhabit different elevations and temperatures naturally drop as you move upslope. Quetzals inhabit those cooler, higher altitudes, but climate change alters the mist frequency in those areas. This could affect the functioning of cloud forest ecosystems that they inhabit as plants and fungi, the foundations of life, need moisture, temperature and humidity regulation from this mist. If not, the rest of the food chain faces challenges.

Cimate change is also drastically altering species distributions and interactions. Notably, keel-billed toucans are now stealing quetzal eggs. They were pushed out of their typical habitat in the lowlands and forced to higher elevations where quetzals live to track rapidly shifting temperatures.

Quetzals are near threatened and in decline and the best thing we can do is protect their habitat. Thankfully there are many protected areas, Monteverde Reserve being one of them. But climate change is a largely invisible threat that these areas cannot keep out. So let’s try and keep climate change to a minimum, shall we?

Freedom

Quetzals are a symbol of freedom. In the past, quetzals have always died in captivity and so it was thought that they longed for freedom so much that they died of a broken heart. In recent years it was discovered that the real reason for this was because water in captivity contains iron which they cannot absorb - their water sources in the wild contain compounds that neutralise this iron. This information allows for captive rear and release programs where necessary.

These stunning birds are protected by law and conservation organisations, but illegal trade is still prevalent. I have faith though, that Quetzals will remain a symbol of freedom for generations to come. I have faith that they will stay wild and hard to find.