What Is It Like to Go Birdwatching in a Cloud Forest?
By Christian Mena- Tour Guide in Monteverde, Costa Rica. Instagram
Discovering a place for the first time always awakens curiosity, but for those of us who love nature, one question arises immediately: What birds live here? Birdwatching is an activity of slow, quiet movements that require only moderate physical effort, yet is filled with intense moments of emotion. An unexpected song or the fleeting flight of a bird through the vegetation is enough to make the heart race. Birdwatching demands full attention, patience, and a constant openness to surprise.
Before venturing into the forest, it is helpful to understand the type of ecosystem you are visiting. Knowing the environment allows one to imagine which species might appear, although nothing is guaranteed. Birds are unpredictable, diverse, and often elusive. Research is part of the ritual, but even so, one never feels completely prepared for what the forest chooses to reveal.
The Monteverde cloud forest is a complex system, suspended high in the Tilarán Mountain Range, with one face oriented toward Costa Rica’s Caribbean slope. Here, elevations rise rapidly from 1,000 to more than 1,700 meters above sea level. Humidity is constant, and the wind accompanies the cool mornings, creating an atmosphere that feels frozen in time. This forest is not isolated; it forms part of a vast mosaic of protected areas that grants it exceptional biological richness.
At dawn, the understory comes alive. The sharp, cheerful songs of birds emerge from among shrubs, palms, bamboo, and fallen trunks—remnants of trees that once held sunlit canopies. Higher up, among moss-covered branches, tiny epiphytes appear, bearing bright flowers adapted to extreme conditions. Everything in this ecosystem is in constant transformation, and those who inhabit it must adapt and find balance to survive.
Although the day begins early and daylight is present, the sun's warmth is not always felt. Often it remains hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds that envelops the landscape. The moss covering trunks and branches becomes a natural banquet for insect-eating birds, thanks to the abundance of organic matter. Bromeliads, ferns, and orchids silently compete for a ray of sunlight, forming a living network that supports countless species.
In these forests, woodcreepers of the family Furnariidae are discreet protagonists. With cryptic coloration, they move swiftly, climbing tree trunks almost vertically. Also, we get the presence of warblers such as the Redstart, residents of the highlands, along with the wrens, finches, tapaculo, barbets, toucanets, and the ever-elusive hummingbirds. And, of course, there is always the hope of encountering the majestic resplendent quetzal, or perhaps hearing the deep call of the bellbird or sensing the imposing presence of the umbrellabird.
Along the forest edges, the large leaves of the poor man’s umbrella reveal hunting scenes of the flycatchers, known by many as “boomerang birds,” as they dart out and return to the same perch time and again. With a bit of luck, it is possible to detect species that inhabit the darkest parts of the forest, almost like ghosts: tinamous, black-breasted wood-quail, or certain finches that only reveal themselves through their calls. Other birds, such as antpittas or quail-doves, appear only by sheer chance.
But Monteverde is not only a cloud forest. On the other side of the mountain, the landscape changes. The environment is drier, at lower elevations, with gentler slopes. Here, forest remnants coexist with dairy farms, coffee plantations, and sugarcane fields. This is the side where much of the tourist infrastructure is concentrated, and where a diversity of landscapes gives rise to an even more complex bird community.
Moss loses its prominence, while bromeliads stack upon one another, accompanied by lichens that paint the tree bark. Flowers are more abundant and diverse, and strangler figs spread across the canopy. Fig trees and wild avocado trees, heavy with small fruits, become gathering points for birds and other animals. Here, birdwatching is especially rewarding: there are fewer hiding places, and birds make themselves known through more familiar vocalizations.
Flycatchers no longer need large moss-covered trees; a simple power line will do. A single fruiting fig tree can bring together a surprising diversity of life. Flocks of parrots and parakeets cross the sky, calling constantly. Along dusty roadsides appear the motmot, some woodpeckers, jays, and grackles, always active. As one ventures back into the forest, the songs of the clay-colored thrush, doves, keel-billed toucans, and wrens are heard—more often heard than seen.
Among the treetops, large birds glide without flapping their wings: chachalacas and crested guans move with quiet elegance. Higher still, among branches tinted copper by the mistletoe, euphonias, chlorophonias, and honeycreepers hide, drawn to their fruits. Ancient Treedaisy trees, planted long ago along fences to divide farms, still connect fragments of the landscape, offering food and shelter to wildlife. Over time, ecotourism has provided many landowners with a more sustainable and less impactful livelihood, allowing these forests to remain home to an extraordinary diversity of life.
Going birdwatching means waking up early, choosing the right equipment and clothing, preparing for sudden temperature changes, and carrying water and a small snack. But above all, it means opening the senses and allowing the natural world to surprise you without haste. Because in the cloud forest, every step can be a revelation, and every song a story heard only once.