By Donald Brightsmith
Originally Published in Bird Talk Magazine
October 1999
Quiet and retiring may not be two words that spring to mind when you think of conures, but that is because most of us are more familiar with the Sun, Jenday, and other conures of the genus Aratinga. But don't let the name "conure" fool you, the conures of the genus Pyrrhura are different.
As a researcher working on parrots in South America I have had the pleasure of seeing a large number of parrot species flying free in the wild. While one can't help but be impressed by the majestic macaws and boisterous Amazons, it is the diminutive Pyrrhura conures that repeatedly catch my eye and arouse my curiosity as they dart quietly among the forest trees. There are 18 species in this genus, but I have seen only a few in the pet trade including Green-cheeked, Maroon-bellied, Black-capped and Painted Conures. They are quiet (compared to Aratinga conures), and many of the species contain a pleasing mix of bright and subtle colors and intricate scaled patterns. These same characteristics that make them so endearing as pets, make them difficult to detect in the towering forests in which they live. As a result, the habits of these species are poorly known.
While working in south eastern Peru I have been fortunate enough to observe Black-capped (P. rupicola) and Painted Conures (P. picta) on a number of occasions. From my observations, it is obvious that these birds are the masters of stealth. I spent many mornings censusing parrots from the center of a small lake in Manu National Park. Many times I would hear the quiet pic' pic' calls of a group of Painted Conures just in time to focus my binoculars and count the flock before they disappeared into the forest on the other side of the lake. Of the dozen species of parrots and macaws I recorded during these censuses only the Pyrrhuras were the only ones able to sneak across the lake without me knowing.
As they feed, these birds continue to avoid detection by remaining extremely quiet. Once as I walked through the forest, I was surprised to find myself below a huge fig tree with chunks of unripe figs falling like rain all around me. The only sound came from the fruits as they crashed to the ground, but I had no idea what was causing this cascade of fruit. I peered up into the canopy, and soon spotted movement: a Painted Conure chewing intently on a 1.5" green fig. The bird held the rather large fruit with his foot wedging it between two small branches. As I watched, the bird chewed through the outer skin and through nearly a half an inch of rather hard "pulp" to consume the mass of tiny seeds in the center. When all the seeds were removed, the bird let the fruit drop and moved down the branch to haul up another one. Before the bird could finish its second helping, I heard one quiet cheet from the other side of the tree. This was quickly answered by similar calls emanating from everywhere in the canopy of the tree. Within seconds, the meaning of these "its time to fly" calls were revealed as the entire flock of nearly 30 conures took flight, punctuated by the loud "thump" as each dropped their final fig.
This habit of perching silently in a tree then calling briefly just before taking flight is common. The calls seem to synchronize the departure of the flock. I have discovered a frustrating side-effect of this is that I often spot the birds just as they take off and speed away. In the highlands of Costa Rica I had such an encounter a the only group of Hoffman's Conures (P. hoffmannii) I have ever seen. They called quietly and before I even located them, they shot off through the trees leaving we with only a brief glimpse of their bright yellow wing patches.
These stealth tendencies are also manifested at the famed clay licks in Peru. I have seen over a dozen species of parrots coming to clay licks, ranging in size from parrotlets to macaws and the behavior pattern of all of them, except the Pyrrhura, have always been similar. Most parrots gather together in large groups in the canopies of the trees surrounding the lick. These groups call frequently as they assemble and often noisily move en mass from tree to tree. Once a sufficiently large and boisterous group has gathered, they begin to descend to the river banks to eat the clay (See footnote on eating clay). But not the Black-capped Conures.
These stealthy parrots have an uncanny knack of sneaking in and out and avoiding detection. I had been told before going to the lick at Posada Amazonas on the Tambopata River that Dusky Conure, Blue-headed Pionus, Mealy and Yellow-crowned Amazons, Severe Macaw, Green-winged Macaw, and Black-capped Conure all regularly visited the lick. On my first free morning I was in the blind at sun up waiting and watching. On cue large groups of parrots began arriving. Mixed groups including both species of amazons and Severe Macaws made an incredible racket as they streamed in from the surrounding forest. Groups of Blue-headed Pionus and Dusky Conures were soon to follow and in no time the area was alive with parrots screaming as they flew to and from the exposed clay wall only 50 ft. from the blind. Then at about 7 AM they all flew from the lick and dispersed back into the forest leaving me in deafening silence.
About 2 hours later, the first Green-winged Macaws began to arrive. As they gathered in the trees above the clay bank I leaned forward and strained my neck to watch. At this moment, a group of about 10 Black-capped Conures flew off from a section of clay bank 75' away directly in front of me! I was astounded. Here I had been sitting for the last two hours and I had no idea how long the little sneaks had been visiting the lick.
Over the next few days, I focused my attention more closely on this small section of clay bank and watched as the Black-caps visited the lick. They usually arrived in small flocks of 10 or less and landed in the canopies of the trees behind the bank. These small groups would fly quietly to the wall of vines above the bank and descend through the inside of the tangle to the clay. The section where they ate was roofed and partly covered with dense vines, leaving the birds partially covered by a wall of vegetation as they ate. This was a total contrast to the other parrot species that used the lick. The other species waited until large groups of birds had gathered in the area and then they descended as a group to take clay from wide open sections of the bank.
Even the flight styles of the stealthy Pyrrhura set them apart from the other parrots I have seen. Most parrots I know including, macaws, pionus, caiques, amazons, parrotlets, parakeets, and Aratinga conures nearly always fly at or above the level of the forest canopy, choosing to fly through the open airspace where they can clearly see the surrounding landscape. In contrast, the flocks of Painted and Black-capped Conures fly below the forest canopy weaving at high speeds among the trees and branches only 20-60 ft. off the ground. The reasons why these birds do this elude me, but it is impressive that the flocks can stay together, fly so rapidly and avoid crashing headlong into the trees.
Despite the difficulties of observing these little conures, I have been fortunate enough to get a few brief glimpses of the behaviors of these birds in the wild. Early one morning I heard a flock of Painted Conures calling overhead. The weather had just cleared after 2 days of cold rain. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the early morning sun was just reaching the tops of the dripping wet trees. As I looked up, I was amazed to see the bizarre antics of one of these birds as it apparently tried to land on the surface of single leave. The leaf could not support its weight so it fell fluttering a few feet through the leaves before landing on a solid branch. My first thought was that this was a young bird just learning to fly, but as I watched, I saw another conure, then another, fall fluttering through the leaves. Then I spotted a bird on a branch covered with moss and lichen: it leaned down chest first into a soaking wet clump of moss and ruffled its feathers and shook. As it continued to rub, it all came clear: the entire flock of birds was bathing! I was amazed. Bathing in the sun on rain-moistened leaves over 75 ft. above the ground. It wasn't quite a proper birdbath, but it seemed to work well enough and was certainly safer than risking descending to the ground to find a puddle.
On another occasion I scared up a group of four Painted Conures from a tree on the side of a trail and admired their agility as they flew off in tight formation through the branches. As I passed that way a few hours later, I paused in this same spot recalling my earlier luck. Much to my surprise I heard a the same quiet yet distinctive calls of the conures. Sure enough about 30 feet up four Painted Conures were clinging to a thin, bare, vertical vine. The birds were obviously not eating and seemed very intent on watching me. I froze, but they quickly flew off. At this point I was very suspicious so I circled around and saw a beautiful two inch diameter hole in the side of a tree only a few feet from where the birds were perched.
I raced back to camp for my climbing gear and was soon hanging 30 feet up with a dental mirror and a flashlight at the entrance of the cavity. The cavity was a work of art. Two inches in diameter, it had rotted out where a branch had broken off the tree a number of years earlier. The tree had surrounded the open hole with a thick layer of new live wood making the entrance extremely hard and nearly unbreakable. The inside of the cavity was a full 12" deep and even extended up and to the side out of sight. I searched the inside of the cavity and discovered a brand new hatchling and 3 eggs.
As I hung there, I wondered why there were four fully-flighted birds obviously attending the nest. I had read of one incident where two captive female Green-cheeked Conures laid their eggs together in the same nest box and then worked together incubating, but in this case they laid a double clutch of 13 eggs. Here the clutch size of only 4 suggested that only one female was involved. Could it be that young from previous years hung around to help raise the new brood? This may be the case, since I know I saw at least one of the birds had much less red on the head indicating that this bird was younger. But whether or not all four birds fed the young proved impossible to determine.
One evening as I sat by the nest to observe the behavior of the adults, I was treated to a rather amazing behavioral display. At about 5 PM I heard the birds calling quietly as they arrived in the area. They perched about 60' north of the nest and quickly quieted down. Off to the south east I heard a group of Brown Capuchin Monkeys jumping through the trees on their way to their evening roost site. In a few minutes the four conures moved to the canopy of the tree above the nest. Then all four descended until they were perched on a vine within 6 feet of the hole. Two birds quickly hopped into the nest, then the third entered, leaving one outside watching the approaching monkeys.
At this point the monkey troupe was heading in the general direction of the nest and within 30'. While not normally thought of as great hunters, the capuchin monkeys are known to be voracious nest predators, and I have frequently seen them searching the insides of tree cavities for food. But the monkeys are not restricted to eggs and nestlings, they are known to kill a variety of adult frogs, birds, snakes, and squirrels and have even been seen killing adult macaws.
The conure that remained outside seemed nervous by the presence of the monkeys, but the nest hole was hidden on the far side of the tree from the advancing troupe. With the nearest monkeys only 30' away, the lone conure outside the nest flew up to the safety of the canopy calling quietly. With this, two of the birds left the tree cavity and perched on the vines near the nest entrance. Then a monkey less than 20 feet away, started down a vine that would bring it within a few feet of the nest cavity. With this, one of the conures flew up to a branch only 15 ft. above the nest and hung awkwardly upside down calling loudly. The bird looked like it was trapped, tangled in the leaves. The monkey spotted it and immediately sprung forward in an attempt to capture it, covering the remaining distance in a few rapid leaps. In this instant, all four of the birds, including the one that remained in the nest, quickly took flight and weaved off through the trees. The excited monkey, having missed its prize, bounded off in the direction the birds had flown and never looked back to see the nest cavity.
Many birds have well developed distraction behaviors designed to keep predators away from their nests. The adult Killdeer, a plover that nests throughout the US, are often seen feigning a broken wing and limping away in an effort to lead dogs, cats and even humans away from their nests. With the exception of my observation, I have been unable to find documentation of this type of behavior in parrots of any species.
Witnessing this incredible feat of distraction has only heightened my respect for the Pyrrhura conures. From their sneaky visits to the clay licks to their comical antics at bath time, I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to observe the lives of these little hookbills that appear to break all the rules. In the future I am sure they will continue to frustrate me by slipping away unseen, but I eagerly await the challenge and my next opportunity to get another look into the private lives of these wonderful little stealth conures.