Published on August 9, 2026

There is a specific kind of magic that happens in the field—a shared, quiet anticipation that exists between a guide and the people they are privileged to lead. But some moments transcend the mere act of birding; they become etched into the landscape of our memories.

A few years ago, I had the honor of guiding a couple through the vibrant wilderness of Carara National Park in Costa Rica. The husband was eager, but it was Mattie, his wife, who truly carried the spirit of the journey. Despite a long-term illness that had confined her to a wheelchair, Mattie possessed a grace that was as radiant as the tropical sun. She never complained about the humidity or the terrain; she was simply grateful for every feathered life that came into the circle of her binoculars.

As we navigated the paths, the husband and I took turns pushing her chair, carefully maneuvering through the lush, verdant trails. We eventually found ourselves deeper and deeper in the park, bound for a large oxbow along the Tarcoles River. The air was heavy with heat and humidity, but the rainforest echoed with bird song and Mattie insisted we push on. She had mentioned that one specific dream for this trip for her to see would be the elusive Collared Forest Falcon.

As a guide, you never want to promise difficult birds, and I was deeply concerned about possibly letting her down. I kept my eyes scanning the canopy, but as the hours ticked by, I felt the weight of that unfulfilled wish.

I turned to her, trying to keep the mood light. "Mattie," I said, "you know, on the final leg of a journey or the end of a long, challenging day, we always hold out hope for a Bonus Bird. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll find a fantastic one today." She just smiled—that patient, beautiful smile—and replied, "I would love to get a bonus."

On our trek back, we paused at a small bridge, momentarily captivated by the striking plumage of a Tropical Royal Flycatcher perched nearby. Just as I was sharing details about the bird, I glanced a few feet down the stream. My heart nearly stopped beating.

Resting on a log across the water was a gorgeous Collared Forest Falcon.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated wonder. As if on cue, the falcon took flight, landing in the shallow water to enjoy a long, leisurely bath, completely unbothered by our presence. I looked over at Mattie. She was squealing with pure, childlike delight, actual tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. In that humid, quiet corner of the world, we had found our bonus bird.

Mattie has since passed away, but that memory remains vivid. Whenever I find myself in the field, particularly when the day is long and the trail is tough, I think of her. I remember the way she looked at the world—with patience, gratitude, and a heart ready for the unexpected.

We search for birds, but often, the most extraordinary experiences are the ones that remind us how fleeting and beautiful these moments truly are. Rest in peace, Mattie. Thank you for showing me that every bird is a gift, and every bonus is a blessing.

Steven Easley - Cottontop Birding