As the sun falls, the seagulls, which have been the only birds I've seen, are joined by some swifts darting into the facade of nearby buildings and a trio of hawks or maybe kites: rather drab, but with that athletic sharp-banked twisting flight.
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The wide beach has a cold-looking tumbling surf but there are no surfers, at least tonight. Finally I see some seabirds beyond gulls -- a trio of pelicans riding the ground-effect of the waves and an ill-defined flock of diving seabirds I can't see well in the heavy glare.
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I have beheld a Peruvian booby! I love boobies! And not just because of the name; they are elegant flyers (but mostly because of the name). I have now seen every booby but one -- the blue-footed.
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As we leave Choros, an Ibis lifts heavily out of the grass and flies alongside the bus for a hundred yards. It's head is a lovely complex of curves.
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I saw a seagull near the supermarket that looked like it was cross-bred with an albatross. It had long thin pointed wings like an ocean cruiser. I'm pretty sure it was just a seagull, but a fine Antipodean gull cut out for scavenging dumpsters off Cape Horn.
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Condors ride thermals, and thermals are bad for seeing, so when the condors are at the observatory, the astronomers curse.
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It's funny how shorebirds seem to be globally distributed. I've seen phalaropes, curlews, plovers, and what looked like an oystercatcher -- whether they are local species or the same as California I don't know.
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A bay at Isla Dama is named after a "scissor bird" which sounds like a skimmer -- a bird that flies at high speed with its beak splitting the ocean surface, trying to spear a sunning fish. I've always wanted to see a skimmer. I don't on this trip.