Feathers

On a recent yet oh-so-far spring day in Cape Town I stood on the higher slopes of Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden, and listened to birds. A cacophany of sunbirds and sugarbirds. And in the taller trees, a boubou shrike and its mate, calling constantly.

The pincushions were in full bloom and most of the birds were invisible, in the depths of the woody shrubs. But I was lucky to see the inky, negative-black form of an amethyst sunbird male. Just the throat is the color of the gem.

The speckled female, above.

The sugarbirds are showy only at the base of their their long tails - a flash of yellow. 

And despite their myriad presence (judging by the twittering clatter from the bushes), I only caught one southern double-collared sunbird feeding.

Quiet, hen-like francolin (Cape spurfowl) browsed in the lawns and took dustbaths in the planted beds.

And the big surprise was a spotted eagle owl, nesting on the ground beneath a tree and behind some crassulas. I could see a small, white-fluffed chick beneath her feathers. (And took this photo with a telephoto lens, from behind a protective barrier.) As much as I love caracals, I hope the red cats that live on the mountain leave the owls alone.