Butterflies and Birds at Monte Alban

     Recently, Sandra and I spent ten days south of the border.  We had not been to Mexico since Covid hit back in 2019 and we were eager to renew our acquaintance with our southern neighbor.  In the past we had flown to Mexico City and taken one of the delightful first-class buses to another Mexican city.  This time we flew non-stop from DFW to Oaxaca.

Bienvenidos a Oaxaca

     We stayed in the centro, on the  pedestrianized street, Macedonio de Alcala, two blocks from the ancient templo Santo Domingo de Guzman.   Right in the heart of the old city (construction began on Santo Domingo in 1551), this was an area with relatively few trees and weedy patches,.  Not only that, but from the beginning it was hotter than a horno.  And so, we didn't expect to see much in the way of butterflies.  

    Curiously, this was not entirely the case.  On our first two mornings we saw a couple species on the streets near Santo Domingo.  One was a large grayish white butterfly.   We were able to spot this beast flying on many occasions (at the right time of day it wasn't uncommon) but we never got especially close.  We didn't bring a net and so we didn't catch one for good examination.  This guy liked to fly up, so even if we had a net, it wouldn't have come into play with this species.  As with all the butterflies I will mention in this blog, with a single exception, this will mean that we used distribution and a few other clues to make our best guess, but that we can't put a definitive name on the butterfly.   And all the pictures of animals, unless otherwise noted, will be borrowed from the internet.

White Angled Sulfur  Anteos clorinda

   Taking into account all those caveats, this may have been a white angled sulfur.  This is a big whitish butterfly that occurs from the southern US down through Central America.  

   We saw one other butterfly, a smaller brownish orange fellow.  Never got a good look, but he was there flying around in the mid-morning.  

     That was about all the cobblestones would yield for wildlife observation in this often shabby old city.  But, true to the title, I want to tell you about the morning we spent at Monte Alban.  

   Monte Alban is a Zapotec ruin on a hill overlooking the city of Oaxaca.  It is literally right out of town.  The ruins are perched on a flattened hilltop about five hundred vertical feet above the city.  The miracle of Monte Alban is not in its fantastic pyramids, for there are none.  This is no Chicken Pizza, Uxmal or Tikal.  Rather, the miracle is that the stone age Zapotecs moved the earth on the hilltop around to create a large flat space for their courtyards. 

Emerald Swift Lizard Scleoporus malchitis 

    After a remarkably bumpy ride in a well used tour van, we arrived at the site.  Before heading to the ruins our guide wanted to show us the stones near the car park and explain how the Zapotecs carved them.  There was a panoramic view of the city, which was mildly interesting. But the situation was dominated by the guide trying to fill time with a long explanation about the rocks.  While he was droning on, I spotted a couple birds.  There were House Finches, at the southern edge of their range here in Oaxaca, and  a Southern House Wren.  This latter is a smallish brown bird, fairly unremarkable with ochre colored flanks.  Are you asleep yet? 

Mexican Fritillary Butterfly

    In addition, scurrying through the weeds, there were lizards.  As it turned out, this car park- picnic area, at the foot of the hill below the ruins, was chock-a bock full of these lizards: emerald Swift Lizards.  They are fairly common over a wide range, and a bit variable in coloration.  the ones here on Monte Alban had a greenish head, a blue chin, a dark back and yellow checked flanks.  And they moved right along.  I spent too long chasing after them trying to get a picture and by the time I gave up the guide had finished talking about the rocks and was leading the group up the incline to the ruins. 

   We caught up with the guide at the museum where he spent way too much time talking about a few stone panels that may have been lifted from the ruins for safe keeping.  Finally, we got on the trail to the ruins.  We had gone about fifty yards in the blazing sun (at ten am it was already oppressive), when a man appeared out of nowhere with two little stone carvings. One was carved from stone and one was made of clay.  One was Zapotec and who gives a shit what the other was.  It was time to throw Sandra under the bus.

Dionne juno at the butterfly house

    I explained to the guide that my wife was sick with the heat and altitude and we needed to get her into the shade.  He kindly told us that it was about a quarter mile to the ruins and we should meet back at the bus at noon. Look for the wood ramp leading out of the courtyard. In the words of the immortal Martin Luther king, Jr., "Free at last!"  

    On our little quarter mile hike, we saw a Grayish Saltator.  If you have never been to Mexico, this large drab finch would be a life bird.  But it is ubiquitous in the land of the margarita.  So at least we knew what it was.  There were a number of butterflies, fairly large with pale dorsal hind wings, and my research yields nothing to correspond with my memory.  Rats!  And there were small spotted butterflies that were probably Mexican Fritillaries.  

   Every now and then we would see a medium sized butterfly of bright orange.  It never landed, but we got lots of good looks on the wing.  Later in our trip we hooked up with the lepidopterist at the butterfly house at the Chapultepec Zoo.   She was certain that this butterfly was Dionne juno.  So there is one for sure, and here you see my picture from the butterfly house.  

    Soon we were down in the plaza area of the ruins.  This is a large flat area with stepped stone walls, some as high as fifty feet.  The area covers about 50 acres and, as I said before, there are no pyramids or other interesting structures to distract you.  Look at it as the Zapotec's architectural answer to the Southern House Wren.  

   Luckily, in the nearby corner of this sprawling, sun drenched complex there were a couple large leafy trees with two benches underneath.  We were saved!    

So Sandra sat on a bench, and I made short forays out into the blazing sun to see what was around.  I managed a picture of the small lizard with black and white stripes you see here.  I have no idea what it might be, but there were a few of them scuttling among the hot, dry weeds. 

   On another quick circuit I spotted a vermillion flycatcher.  This is a beautiful red bird with a broad range, easily seen in the southern US.   Like a good flycatcher, he finds a preferred perch from which he shoots out to nab a flying insect, returning to the same perch to enjoy his lunch.  This guy was hanging around and, as she recovered, Sandra was able to look through the binoculars and get a good look at the fancy fellow, perched on a small tree twenty yards from our shady refugio.

A shady tree for Schmoopie!

    Soon we saw the butterfly that would make the trip memorable.  As we watched from beneath the shade trees, a large black butterfly with golden bands flew by.  This was one of the most beautiful butterflies I have ever seen, and he was big!  The golden bands were wider than one might expect, more so than a Red Admiral, for example.  And the butterfly flew slowly around us for several minutes.

   At one point he landed on the shade tree only twenty feet away.  Sadly, I wasn't quick enough with the phone camera, so no picture for me.  

    Using the method I described in my caveats at the beginning of this blog (asking Mr. Google for images of butterflies we might see in southern Mexico) I deduced that this incredible beauty was the Guatemalan Catone, Catonepele mexicana.  It seemed to be in range, and I was satisfied.  Luckily, I sent a field report to our friend Peter Krottje.  Peter is a better scientist than I, and he sort of encouraged me to write this blog.  In the process of doing so, I realized that I had made a mistake. 

Catone for your sins, Glassberg , Butterflies of Mexico

   Using the above method, I realized that there was a tremendous sexual dimorphism in the Guatemalan Catone, and so I consulted Butterflies of Mexico by Jeffrey Glassberg.  Schmoopie had purchased this volume a year or so ago, apparently anticipating just such a situation.  By the way, there are so many butterflies in Mexico that I find this book difficult to use.

    But look at the picture of the page with the Guatemalan Catone.  Not only is there dramatic sexual dimorphism, but...Holy Shit! There's a second species!  

   And so, it turns out, there are two similar species of Catones, one on the Pacific side and one on the

West Mexican Catone, Putla Villa de Guerrero, Oaxaca 2024

Gulf (of Mexico!) side.  I knew that when birders come to Oaxaca they start at the Ciudad de Oaxaca and progress downhill to the Pacific coast.  That coast is many hours away by car and one passes through several life zones on the way.  It is roughly a 6,000 foot drop in elevation.  The Oaxacan coast, by the way, is supposed to be a really cool place to hang out, a trip back to an old Mexico beach community. Bottom line, Oaxaca is near the crest of the Pacific slope, definitely not the Gulf side. A more careful look at iNaturalist revealed that this must have been the Pacific species, the West Mexican Catone, Catonephele cortesi.   Not only that, but there is no iNaturalist post for this butterfly near Oaxaca City, much less at Monte Alban.  At least we got the identification correct.  Thanks in large part to Peter.  Now we need to deal with iNaturalist.  

   A friendly guide pointed out the wooden ramp and we escaped the large flat home of the Zapotec priests, richer by one golden butterfly.

jeff