We did make it to Amman, and we did have a nice daytrip to several “castles”, including Qasr Kharana, Qusayr ‘Amra, and Qasr al-Azraq, and the Azraq Wetland Reserve, which held the first freshwater we’ve seen all trip, so I had high hopes, and the reserve did not disappoint.

The biggest bird we saw, by far, was this young great white pelican, the likes of which we last saw in London, of all places. Of course, Anne saw it first and came running back to get me as I was wasting my time trying to get yet another red-backed shrike picture.

There were plenty of blue-cheeked bee-eaters, but in a slightly more natural setting than the metal fence post on which we saw the last one.

There were a couple of little grebes (Tachybaptus ruficollis), whom I also saw in Aqaba, but who were too far away there for a decent photo, so this is their debut in this venue.

The bird I was most excited to see, however, was this white-eared bulbul (Pycnonotus leucotis), because it is our very first one and our fourth bulbul over all.

With standing fresh water, I would have been surprised if there were not dragonflies, but this violet dropwing (Trithemis annulata) is still a stunner.

Finally, back in Amman, there is a citadel atop the hill behind our hotel, and here’s an Egyptian rock agama lizard (Laudakia vulgaris) climbing on the ruins.

Tomorrow we begin our journey home, but we’ve got a few flights to sit through, so it’s gonna take us a while. Wish us luck, and I’ll try to post something to tide you over until I get back to Estabrook.

We made it to Petra, though driving through the modern city was a bit of a trick, but the archeological site was far more amazing than I had even imagined. The iconic building carved into red sandstone, called “The Treasury”, and seen in many movies, is only the tip of the iceberg. Petra was a booming metropolis from about 400 BC to 106 AD, and there are dozens of other buildings to see as well.

Even better, old stone buildings were not the only sights to see, and this striking bird is our very first Tristram’s starling (Onychognathus tristramii), a female. I read that “the species is named after Reverend Henry Baker Tristram,” “an early, but short-lived, supporter of Darwinism.”

Here’s the glossy black and slightly less cooperative male. I read further that “[they are] also known as Dead Sea starlings or Tristram’s grackles, [they are] native to the Middle East, [and they are] the only member of the genus Onychognathus found mainly outside of Africa.”

We also saw laughing doves, pale crag-martins, white-spectacled bulbuls, a Eurasian blackcap, and a blackstart, but none allowed pictures as nice as I’ve already shown you.

Luckily, I had a couple of hours before our drive to Petra to go visit the Aqaba Bird Observatory one more time, and a couple of new birds came out to say “hi”. This first one darted around in the top of a tree, as we’ve seen plenty of warblers do in Estabrook, but this one is our first graceful prinia (Prinia gracilis). If “prinia” sounds familiar, perhaps that’s because you read about the tawny-flanked prinia I saw in Malawi a while back.

When I saw this bird, I figured it for another western yellow wagtail, but I remembered what Anne always says, “take the darn picture and worry about who it is later.” Well, she’s been proven right again, and my sources tell me that this little cutie turns out to be yet another wheatear, if you can believe it, an Isabelline wheatear (Oenanthe isabellina), in fact.

I first noticed these critters darting around on the hot sand at Wadi Rum, but I never managed to get a picture, so I was glad to have one more chance to capture a black desert ant (Cataglyphis nigra) on film. I read that they are known for extreme heat tolerance and the ability to navigate by observing the sun’s location, which avoids depending on pheromone traces that can be obliterated by blowing sand and allows taking a direct path back to the nest after locating prey to minimize exposure.

Finally, the blue-spotted Arab butterflies were still plentiful, and this time I got a good look at the dorsal (top/in) side of the wings. They sure are pretty, aren’t they?

Our next stop is Amman, the capital of Jordan, and Anne has us booked on a tour of the Azraq Wetland Reserve, so there might be even more wildlife to see. Keep your fingers crossed.

We did make it to Wadi Rum, “a valley cut into the sandstone and granite rock” where some of Lawrence of Arabia was filmed, and it was spectacular. We had a guide, Ali, who grew up there, and whose mother remembers when and where the movie was made. He drove us around on the soft sand in a Mitsubishi L200 pickup, just like the one I drove to Ukraine a while back, and he was wonderfully terse with his descriptions.

Our first stop was a spot called “Lawrence’s Spring“, and there was indeed water flowing out of the side of a huge rock with camels there to drink it. The bigger draw for me, however, was the wildlife it attracted even in the heat of late morning. This first hearty soul, perched on a trough built to catch water for the camels, is also our very first desert lark (Ammomanes deserti).

Another small bird in the vicinity and on the hunt for bugs that the water supports was this dapper-looking white-crowned wheatear (Oenanthe leucopyga), our first of the species and only our second in the genus.

When I first looked up the northern wheatear we saw back in Trabzon, I mistakenly read it as “wheat eater”, which made sense to me, and I only managed not to write it that way because I tend to “copy and paste” long names to minimize just such errors. Once I realized my mistake, I had to look up the etymology, of course, and perhaps you will be as amused as I was to read that “the name ‘wheatear’ is not derived from “wheat” or any sense of “ear” [or even “eater”], but is a folk etymology of “white” and “arse“, referring to the prominent white rump found in most species.” Ha!

Anyway, at the first stop already, we could also see large black birds soaring overhead, but we didn’t get a close enough look for an identification until we stopped at Khaz’ali Canyon. There we found these two investigating an eroded sandstone cliff face, and I managed to capture this image, which is just good enough to ID them as our first brown-necked ravens (Corvus ruficollis) and only my second raven species.

Just as in the American southwest, there are rock bridges, and we stopped at the closest, which also happens to be the smallest, aptly called “Little Bridge“, and that is where I was finally able to get a close-up of the little birds we had been hearing twittering all morning but had been struggling to get eyes on. Well, as you can see, we may be able to blame our difficulty on the fact that they happen to be colored perfectly to blend in with the sandstone because they are Sinai rosefinches (Carpodacus synoicus).

By fun coincidence, the Sinai rosefinch is the national bird of Jordan “because of its rosy color, which is similar to the color of Petra, ‘The Red Rose City’, and because of its large inhabiting of the Jordanian desert.” It is even featured on the one Jordanian dinar bill.

Finally, I had been seeing grayish swifts or swallows swooping overhead and low over the sand all morning, and I valiantly tried to track them with my camera or even just my phone, but my efforts were completely in vain, and I despaired that we may never know who they were. Thus, you may imagine my elation when we made a final stop at the visitors center to use their facilities before we began our drive back across the desert to Aqaba, and I spotted a pair swoop in to perch on a little ledge under the portico. I first did my best with my phone, just so I’d have something, and then I bolted back to the car to grab my camera. Thankfully my luck held, and perhaps they had a belly full of flies that needed digesting, because they were still there when I got back, and they didn’t even seem to mind when I captured this portrait. It turns out that they are neither swifts nor swallows but crag martins, so say hello to our first ever pale crag-martin (Ptyonoprogne obsoleta).

Lastly, as I was hunting rosefinches and wheatears, I happened to notice this amazing creature quite casually strolling over the pink sand, and it appears to be a pitted beetle (Adesmia cancellata).

Next, we’re off to see The Red Rose City for ourselves, which you may recognize for its supporting roles in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and Mortal Kombat Annihilation. With any luck, there’ll be some wildlife there, too.

As I mentioned yesterday, we are off to see Wadi Rum today, and I have no idea if I’ll be able to get any wildlife pictures for you, but I’ve got a few left over from yesterday, so let me use this post to get you caught up.

Here’s a western yellow wagtail, whom we first saw in cool and rainy South Holland, struttin’ its stuff under the hot desert sun between the ponds at the Aqaba Bird Observatory (ABO).

Meanwhile, four large birds soared high above the ponds, and they turned out to be our first ever black storks (Ciconia nigra). Their range extends from Sweden to South Africa and Spain to Japan, so I’m a little surprise that they have evaded me till now, but better late than never, right? I read that “black storks prefer undisturbed forests near water, white storks live in more open areas like fields and wetlands, and black storks are shy and avoid humans, whereas white storks are more common in urban areas and nest on man-made structures,” so that could explain it.

Ponds full of wading birds would hardly be complete without stilts, so here’s a black-winged stilt to round things out.

That’s it from the ABO, for now at least, but before breakfast and our visit, I stopped by the public beach right in town. I was a bit surprised to find that many vacationers, including whole families with children, appeared to have spent the night on the beach, and many were still sleeping there. Thus, I abandoned my hopes of finding any shorebirds, and focused instead on the small garden patches, perhaps community gardens, between the beach and the street behind it lined with shops and hotels. What a goldmine!

Here’s our best look yet, given the low light conditions, at an adult male red-backed shrike in full plumage. What a handsome devil, eh? We did see one in Malawi, but he kept his red back hidden.

For handy reference, here’s a female who was hunting in the next garden over.

Finally, here’s our first look at a male masked shrike. You may recall that we saw our first individual, a juvenile, just the day before beside the Dead Sea.

Well, I am thrilled to report that the Aqaba Bird Observatory is every bit the masterpiece that their website claims. It is, of course, connected to, or even contained within, a wastewater treatment facility, but they have created special pools just for migrating waders and erected viewing blinds to help us enjoy seeing them while disturbing them less.

Even better, the facility attracts more than just migrating water birds, and this first bird is our very first blue-cheeked bee-eater (Merops persicus). Once again WordPress is providing you with a subpar rendering, so do yourself a favor by clicking on the image so you can zoom in.

One of the main attractions was a flock of about 70 greater flamingos (Phoenicopterus roseus), which you may certainly have seen before, or at least their cousins, the American or Caribbean flamingo, but was a first for me.

Some of the youngsters even got rambunctious.

Another first for me, and on the smaller side, was this killdeer-esque common ringed plover
(Charadrius hiaticula).

This wood sandpiper (Tringa glareola) was slightly taller and larger.

Finally, at least for today, was this spur-winged lapwing (Vanellus spinosus), who looks like it is wearing a tuxedo and is one of the few birds that have “wing” in its name twice.

Finally, that fresh water attracts more than birds, and this is one of probably hundreds of small butterflies that were flitting around, a blue-spotted Arab (Colotis phisadia).

On a side note, GPS signals are being jammed or spoofed in this area, so some of the tools I use, such as Google Maps, the eBird app, and the Merlin Bird ID app were all discombobulated this morning. Thank goodness Anne does not require an accurate GPS signal to function well, and she was able to help me navigate the chaos.

Tomorrow we’re off to visit Wadi Rum to see where all those films were shot.

As promised, here’s a second, early-morning look at some critters at the northeast corner of the Dead Sea.

I heard this first beauty and its traveling companions before I saw them, and they helpfully perched together in the top of a tall bare tree. I had only taken a couple of pictures, however, before they all moved on and my heart sank. Thankfully, my disappointment was premature, and they soon settled in a much lower tree so I could get the nicest pictures my gear could muster in the early morning light. It was only then that I could identify them as my very first Indian silverbills (Euodice malabarica).

This next bird actually did manage to take off before I could capture an image, but it too, didn’t go very far, and I could get a picture just good enough to identify it as our first great grey shrike (Lanius excubitor).

Anne and I had chased a couple of birds in vain yesterday morning, as they flitted around inside densely-leaved trees while teasing us with their calls, and this was one of them. Today, for reasons I will never know, this one relented, and now we know what an eastern olivaceous warbler (Iduna pallida) looks like.

When I saw this bird, I thought that maybe our great grey shrike had returned, but my sources claim that the light speckling on this little cutie marks it as a juvenile masked shrike (Lanius nubicus), instead.

Finally, we saw this magnificent bird yesterday, and Anne spotted it first, as I was focused on the sunbird above and behind it, but I was nervous about the identification. If my sources are correct, this is not only our first European honey-buzzard (Pernis apivorus), but also the first honey-buzzard reported at that location, though not in the region.

Anyway, in case you are wondering how they got that name, as I was, it is because they primarily eat the larvae and pupae of bees and wasps. Heck, they aren’t even true buzzards or hawks, but have their own genus of just honey-buzzards.

Lastly, here is the smallest butterfly I may have ever seen, a dark grass blue (Zizeeria karsandra).

After breakfast, we spent the rest of the today driving south to Aqaba, and tomorrow morning we hope to visit the Aqaba Bird Observatory, which bills itself as “an environmental masterpiece that utilizes treated water to create vital habitats for birds to rest during their journey along the second most important bird migration route in the world.” How exciting is that?

The stars must have aligned like nobody’s business over the last twenty hours because both of our flights and all our taxi rides went off without hitches, and we arrived on the shores of the Dead Sea in Jordan right on schedule early this morning. Anne did the sensible thing and immediately hit the sack to catch up on some quality sleep, but I had a date with some critters who just wouldn’t wait.

The first of several pleasant surprises was finally finding that Eurasian hoopoe I teased you with just over a week ago. WordPress isn’t doing too bad a job with this image, but I’m especially pleased with how it came out, so give it a click if you’d like a closer look at this gorgeous creature.

The next surprise was discovering that in addition to common redstarts and black redstarts, there are also just plain blackstarts (Oenanthe melanura), and this little cutie is the first one I’ve ever seen of the latter.

Similarly, it turns out that in addition to common bulbuls and Malagasy bulbuls, there are also white-spectacled bulbuls (Pycnonotus xanthopygos). Who knows how they got that name, right?

Not everything comes in neat threes, and I’ve had the good luck to see a few different sunbirds, including a scarlet-chested and a few variable, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised to see one more, but that doesn’t make it any less of a treat when I get to see such a magnificent pair as these Palestine sunbirds (Cinnyris osea). Here’s the sensibly-dressed female, …

and here’s the iridescent male, looking quite similar to the Malagasy sunbird males we saw on Comoros back in 2024.

Finally, birds were not the only class putting on a show today, and here’s a spectacular crimson-speckled flunkey moth (Utetheisa pulchella) representin’ for the insects.

By then the sun was getting pretty hot, Anne and I had to determine just how buoyant the Dead Sea was, which turns out to be quite a bit, I needed a little sleep booster shot myself, and I had some writing to do, so those are the critters for today. The good news is that I’ll get to rinse and repeat tomorrow morning, and I can’t wait to see who I’ll find next.

Our tour to Georgia yesterday was certainly nice enough, and we definitely enjoyed the sights, but it was pretty much a bust for wildlife. I didn’t take a single picture of the flora or fauna, of which I have no doubt there is plenty, and we got back to our hotel last evening just before midnight, so I didn’t have anything to write about, let alone time to write about it. Oh well. Next time, right?

The good news is that the call to prayer this morning from the huge mosque across the street woke me up at 5 am on the dot, and the skies were crystal clear at sunrise, after a day of rain, so it was a golden opportunity to give the Trabzon waterfront another look.

The first big treat came soon after I reached the sea wall and noticed something other than a gull flying towards shore. Even better, it perched only a few dozen yards away and right below the railing so that I could sneak this picture before an early-morning walker spooked it away. Give a warm welcome to the very first Eurasian nightjar (Caprimulgus europaeus) I have ever seen.

You may wonder, as did I, how a nightjar is different from the nighthawk we saw in Estabrook just this past spring, and the interwebs have an answer. “A nightjar is a member of a large, widespread family of primarily nocturnal birds, while a nighthawk is a specific type of nightjar found only in the New World (North and South America).” So there.

I’ve been seeing hooded crows at almost every stop of this trip, but they are about as shy as the American crows in Estabrook Park, so it wasn’t till this morning that one was willing to pose for this portrait.

There were several red-backed shrikes about, and this one really showed of some off the traits of the hunter that it is: some fierce-looking talons and a hook at the end of its beak.

As I was getting pictures of the shrikes, this other little bird caught my eye, and thank goodness it did, because it’s our very first stonechat, a Siberian stonechat (Saxicola maurus), my sources claim. Check out the size of those feet it’s sporting.

Finally, Anne wanted to come out to see the waterfront after breakfast, and we were barely out there for 15 minutes before she turned our birding walk into a wildlife walk by spotting the only lizard we’ve seen so far this trip. My sources claim that this is a Brauner’s Rock Lizard (Darevskia brauneri), and it appeared to be far more interested in some potential breakfast than it was in us.

And that’s a wrap on Turkey, at least for this trip, and we’re now at the airport awaiting a flight to our next destination. Tune in tomorrow, or the day, after if things don’t go exactly my way, to find out what amazing wildlife we get to see next.

As advertised, yesterday was a long day of travel, and we didn’t reach our hotel in Trabzon, Turkey until 10pm last evening. The good news, however, is that we are just across the road from a huge waterfront park around the Hanife Hatun Camii, a big, beautiful, new mosque. Even better, sunrise is just after 6am out here, so I had plenty of time to go look for critters this morning before the day’s sightseeing commenced.

This first bird is a European turtle-dove (Streptopelia turtur), which I have glimpsed before but have not captured on film until today. I think the contrast between the yellow steel beam and the blueish sky looks kind of arty, but Anne thinks I should have zoomed in to show you the bird better. When I protested that it’s just a dove, she replied that I’m “the captain of [my] blog, so I can do what I want.” Thus, here you go, and if you want to zoom in to see more detail, you know what to do.

This next little bird turns out to be a common redstart, whom we last saw in Prague, but this one seemed not to know what to make of me, and hardly made me work for this picture at all. “Thanks, Darlin’!”

This little cutie turns out to be not quite as harmless as it looks because it’s a young or female red-backed shrike. The last time we saw one of these was in Lilongwe, Malawi, where it appears they go for the winter.

Finally, it turns out that I have, in fact, not already seen every bird already, thank goodness, and here’s my very first northern wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe). There were several foraging in the weeds near the water, and the way they bobbed their tails reminded me of sandpipers and wagtails.

The forecast calls for thunderstorms tomorrow morning, which isn’t great, but Anne points out that I really lucked out this morning, when the downpour held off until we were sitting at breakfast, so who knows what we’ll get. I’ll keep you posted.

After a wonderfully calm morning yesterday, the wind picked up, and it was still blowing like crazy this morning. I did go out looking for critters again today, but nobody wanted to work with me. Instead, here are a few pictures I captured yesterday afternoon while seeing the sights.

Here’s a scarce swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius) just outside the Parthenon atop the Acropolis of Athens. I read that “despite the name ‘scarce swallowtail’, this species is quite common. The scarcity of United Kingdom migrants is responsible for the English vernacular name.”

A nomad (Sympetrum fonscolombii) just outside the Temple of Poseidon in Sounion.

Finally, we’ve been seeing Eurasian magpies everywhere we go, and this one happens to be also at the Acropolis of Athens.

Tomorrow we catch a flight to the next leg of this tour, and I’ll post something if I can, but I’d better not make any promises.