A desert tortoise is in safe hands during translocation.

My boots are sitting in the hallway covered in dust. Not from lack of use, I might add. But following such an inspiring field experience in the Mojave Desert, where I released tortoises to the wild, it just seemed too soon to wipe away the dusty memories of my desert adventure.

If you work at a desk most of the time, like I do, you’ll understand that getting out into the field can be a rare and fleeting opportunity. Fortunately for me, my job takes me on walkabout to visit our field programs about once every couple of months. Each trip has a dedicated mission, from delivering vital field equipment to planning field operations alongside remotely based staff, and each trip has the added bonus of bringing me joy in connecting with the animals, people, and places where we work.

On this last trip, my trifold mission was to deliver a brand-new four-wheel drive truck to our Desert Tortoise Conservation Center, assist in a long-planned translocation of desert tortoises to the Greater Trout Canyon area just west of Las Vegas, and take staffer Julie Marshall on a memorable professional training experience. Julie works diligently overseeing our Institutional Animal Care and Use Committee, ensuring all our projects follow the highest animal welfare standards, and this trip would give her the golden opportunity to see our tortoise conservation efforts in action.

Julie Marshall radio tracks a desert tortoise.

Our first day was spent with the staff at the Center, carefully preparing animals for their move to the wild. Each tortoise has undergone a meticulous health screening and testing over the past year to ensure its overall condition will not compromise its chances for survival. Carrying out the finishing touches, we attached radio transmitters to each of the 32 tortoises destined for freedom. The translocation effort serves two main purposes: population augmentation and research. The population of wild tortoises in the Greater Trout Canyon area has been in decline for several years. The translocated animals are expected to bolster the population and, at the very least, slow the decline in numbers. Research includes checking on the released tortoises at regular intervals to determine how they are adapting to their new environment.

Waking uncomfortably early at 4 a.m. the next day, we headed out to meet the staff, volunteers, and members of other agencies (NDOW, FWS, USGS), assisting in the translocation. After a briefing and some quick training in the use of handheld GPS units, we drove off in convoy with our precious cargo. As dawn was breaking, each tortoise received a subcutaneous injection of liquid to ensure proper hydration, and each person, carrying a tortoise in a tote, navigated to a target GPS location to make a “drop”. Fanning out across the desert landscape, our work was accomplished swiftly in the cool morning air, some tortoises remaining still until we left their sides, others trotting off into the near distance. We all left wondering, what next?

Our third and final day started just as uncomfortably early as day two and focused on finding out what next. While I caught up on center operations, Julie accompanied our field technicians to learn how to radio track tortoises. Hiking across the desert terrain following the beeping sound of an animal’s transmitter is tough work, but the payoff when you find an animal is exhilarating. After animals are translocated, they often make longer-range movements than normal in exploring their new environment, so it is key for us to follow them closely during their first few weeks of release so we don’t lose anybody.

I’m happy to report all tortoises were relocated, and I’m grateful that my job involves working with the dedicated members of the Desert Tortoise Conservation Center team who are making conservation happen and who are all infinitely better morning people than I!

Allyson Walsh is an associate director in the Applied Animal Ecology Division of the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

How does the busiest, most critical part of the year—the breeding season—even begin for the shrikes and staff of the San Clemente Loggerhead Shrike Breeding Program?

Since 1989, the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, in conjunction with the United States Navy, has been making great efforts to recover endangered San Clemente loggerhead shrikes by breeding them in aviaries and releasing juveniles into the wild. Because of the efforts of the Zoo, the Navy, and those of partner conservation organizations, this shrike subspecies, which occurs only on Navy-owned San Clemente Island off the coast of California, has increased from a population of 14 individual birds in 1998 to 65 breeding pairs in 2013. Although there is much work yet to be done, the recovery program’s success story is well known. But what exactly goes into such a project? More interestingly, what goes into the busiest, most critical part of the year for the program? How does the busiest, most critical part of the year—the breeding season—even begin for the shrikes and staff of the San Clemente Loggerhead Shrike Breeding Program?

The breeding effort begins in January, when we receive a very exciting document delivered by Tandora Grant, the San Clemente loggerhead shrike’s studbook keeper. It is her responsibility to use genetic and demographic statistics to determine which of our shrikes to breed each year. Two important factors that come into play during Tandora’s matchmaking are the representation of our birds’ genes in the wild population’s gene pool and each of our bird’s personal breeding history. It is vital to balance these two factors to maximize the positive impact our program has on the recovery of the shrike; too few juveniles to release at the end of the season results in a low probability of their surviving to breed the next year, but releasing many genetically invaluable juveniles is potentially detrimental to the recovery of the species.  Think Fiddler on the Roof meets conservation biology; the document Tandora delivers is the year’s breeding recommendations, and it contains the season’s breeding pairs, whether the birds are happy with her choices or not! More often than not, the birds are happy, but the document also contains alternate pairings should any of the chosen shrikes display a lack of motivation when it comes time to court each other.

In the first week of February, after we have prepared the breeding aviaries for the upcoming season, the select females are moved into aviaries adjacent to their males in a logistics puzzle that has been appropriately named “The Big Move.” You can imagine how hard it is to place 12 to 15 specific pairs next to each other in appropriately outfitted breeding enclosures when we have a flock size of over 60 birds and a grand total of about 80 enclosures! Though it is sometimes difficult and requires lots of planning, a little bit of luck, and plenty of cooperation from the shrikes, The Big Move is important, because it is designed to imitate the natural movement of wild shrikes.

In the wild, male and female San Clemente loggerhead shrikes maintain exclusive and solitary winter territories; however, come breeding season, females leave their winter grounds to search for attractive mates. By moving a specific year’s breeding males into their breeding enclosures and the female’s into enclosures adjacent to their chosen mates, we aim to simulate the female’s discovery of her mate. Once the breeding pairs have been placed in their adjacent enclosures, they have entered the “pre-pair” phase of the breeding season. This is the time for the males to court the females by displaying, singing, nest building, and most importantly, feeding them lots of bugs! If all goes well, we will be able to move on to the next phase—pairing.

Henry Fandel is a research associate for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

Click on the link in the first paragraph to watch this kiwikiu (parrotbill) hatch.

The Maui Bird Conservation Center is pleased to announce the hatch of our second kiwikiu (Maui parrotbill) chick of the breeding season. The chick hatched on April 11 at 11 a.m., and I was lucky enough to see the chick hatching and took this short video clip: Kiwikiu (parrotbill) hatching.mov

The kiwikiu is an endangered, endemic Hawaiian honeycreeper only found in a small range on the eastern slopes of the Haleakala volcano on Maui. This species has been notoriously difficult to breed in captivity, but the Hawaii Endangered Bird Conservation Program has been having more luck in producing chicks in the last few years (see Raising Maui Parrotbills).

The kiwikiu is a very intelligent species, and we take many steps to keep the birds from imprinting onto humans. We use a hand puppet during feeds as soon as the young chick’s eyes start to open, and this year we thought it was time we “upgraded” our hand puppet.

A puppet “parent” feeds the new kiwikiu.

At the Maui Bird Conservation Center’s Open House last November, I met a lovely local lady, Alyson Danford, who obviously has a real passion for the native wildlife of Hawaii. Alyson grew up on the Big Island of Hawaii but has now lived on Maui for more than 28 years. Alyson created a beautiful quilt of the kiwikiu among the native Acacia koa tree, and she donated this wonderful gift to our program during the open house. I immediately thought of Alyson about making the new hand puppet and contacted her about the project.

Alyson stands in front of a quilt she made, inspired by the alala’s hoped-for return to the wild.

Alyson was very excited to help us even though she had never made anything like that before, and after a visit to our facility, she came up with two new hand puppets for our program! It was perfect timing when Alyson had the new puppets ready for our newly hatched chick.

We are extremely grateful to Alyson for donating her time and creativity to help us toward our mission of protecting the native birds of Hawaii. Alyson, Mahalo nui loa. Me ka aloha pumehana.

Amy Kilshaw is a research associate at the San Diego Zoo’s Maui Bird Conservation Center. Read her previous post, Nene Come Home.

Teachers investigate a cactus at the Spectacled Bear Conservation Center.

Forty-six! That’s how many teachers attended our recent environmental education professional development workshops, in collaboration with the Spectacled Bear Conservation Society, in Peru. That’s also the minimum number of classrooms that will be affected by the methods and materials that were discussed over the 10 days spent at the Conservation Center in Batan Grande, Peru. And it’s pretty safe to assume that each teacher has about 25 students. Hmm… 46 x 25 = 1,150. Maybe it’s a little premature to say we’ve touched the lives of over a thousand children and possibly their families, but I’m overly optimistic. It’s a pretty good number, if you ask me.

I work in the Conservation Education Division of the Institute for Conservation Research, the research arm of the San Diego Zoo. But rather than thinking about what I do as education, we like to think of what we’re doing in northern Peru, in support of the Andean bear conservation project, as capacity building. This is an approach to working with communities to enhance their abilities to allow them to achieve measurable and sustainable results. Having learned a bit about the communities over the last year and a half, I’ve come to know some of the modern challenges they face. It is my job to assist them in finding their potential and developing a “tool kit” for sustainable, improved living. This tends to have a measurable, positive impact on the forest and Andean bears. In this way, we are helping to address the human dimension of conservation.

Teachers interact in small group discussions outside the Spectacled Bear Conservation Society.

Instead of a lot of lecturing by professionals and sitting and listening by students, we conducted the workshops in an inquiry and project-based learning format. Inquiry involves the quest to learn more about the things that interest us. Project-based learning directly engages participants through projects applicable to life outside the classroom. The workshop was also conducted as if the participating teachers were their own students in a classroom, similarly to how we conduct our summer teacher workshops at the Institute. Using these tools, we hope to increase their active engagement with students, encourage investigation of the things in which they are interested, and provide them with tools that they can use in their everyday lives. Actually, these workshops were modeled after the Earth Expeditions program offered in conjunction with Miami University of Ohio and the Advanced Inquiry Master’s Program (check out the new Earth Expedition going to Hawaii this summer and the new Advanced Inquiry Program being offered by the Zoo!).

Samantha, in front, poses with the first group of teachers at the end of Workshop 1, wearing their commemorative T-shirts.

Although there were some unanticipated challenges, I think it’s safe to say that overall the workshops were quite successful. Teachers were engaged. They asked questions. They were exposed to new methods and got up close and personal with the inquiry process, as well as the San Diego Zoo and the Spectacled Bear Conservation Society. We had guest speakers from the area and active investigations, and the teachers developed their own network of educators interested in conservation in the region. Teachers were also challenged to develop a conservation action project to implement in their village, tied in with the curriculum.

We will stay in contact and provide support and advice for these projects throughout the school year of March through December. And at the end of the year, we hope students will showcase their conservation projects in a festival celebrating community-based conservation to ensure that these great lessons make their way to the next generation.

Samantha Young is a conservation educator for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research. Read her previous post, Can Cute Trinkets Save Andean Bears?

We were headed to a cove to explore the world-famous marine biodiversity that this region is known for. As our boats cut through the placid surface, we marveled at blue- and brown-footed boobies, pelicans, gulls, and frigate birds. All at once, one of our group’s boats veered off course and slowed near a ripple in the water. We all strained our eyes, searching for whatever the driver had seen to cause this detour.

To avoid frightening it away, he said in a low whisper “ballena.” I heard a collective gasp as two Bryde’s whales surfaced in unison—a mother and calf. We watched the whales feed for maybe fifteen minutes. At times they ventured close enough to touch, even diving directly under our boats. As they eventually swam gracefully away, we knew we had witnessed something extraordinary.

Earth Expeditions

Robin and her team were excited to see two Bryde’s whales surface and swim around their boats.

This field course in Baja California is part of a graduate-level conservation and education program called Earth Expeditions, offered in partnership through Miami University’s Project Dragonfly and conservation NGOs worldwide. I had the opportunity last summer to co-instruct an Earth Expeditions course in Baja California, and among the many learning experiences it provided, perhaps the greatest was a fresh appreciation for the transformational capacity of first-hand experiences with wildlife conservation. Courses through Earth Expeditions provide students from around the globe the opportunity to visit pivotal hotspots in Africa, Asia, Australia and the Americas to engage in inquiry and action projects on key conservation issues.

Paradise in Peril

In the Conservation Education Division, we are constantly searching for exciting new opportunities to connect people to wildlife and conservation. With San Diego Zoo Global working to conserve wildlife in over 35 countries around the world, Earth Expeditions is an ideal platform to introduce a global community of professionals to our conservation work.

This summer, we are debuting the newest Earth Expedition focused on the extinction capitol of the world, a paradise in peril—Hawaii. Students in the Hawaii Earth Expedition course will explore what it takes to save a species in the wild by focusing on San Diego Zoo Global’s work through its Hawaii Endangered Bird Conservation Program (HEBCP). One species in particular, the ‘alala or Hawaiian crow, has been extinct in the wild since 2002 and is currently being bred in captivity through the HEBCP for an eventual reintroduction back into the forests of Hawaii.

No Small Change

Beyond gaining a better understanding of the conservation landscape on Hawaii, my hope as the lead instructor in the course is that it will provide students with transformative experiences with wildlife that incite real change.

Even more tremendous than the actual encounter with the whales in Baja California was the impact the experience had on the class. Several were moved to tears by this unexpected encounter; some laughed at the sheer joy of watching such graceful animals. All of us, though, were silent as we continued toward our destination, sobered by this intimate moment with wildlife that we had all shared. We knew we had been given a remarkable experience, and were left with a sense that we somehow needed to give back.  We thought then about the daunting task that this presented. How do we share this experience? How do we inspire other people?

Each student will find different answers to these questions, and in this effort exists the fundamental principle of Earth Expeditions—through these courses we are building an alliance of individuals with firsthand knowledge of wildlife and conservation, committed to working in their communities to ensure that transformational experiences in nature will be possible for generations to come.

Robin Keith is a conservation program specialist for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

Cuyamaca does some preening in the nest box.

At about one month of age, our California condor chick Cuyamaca (pronounced “Kwee-ah-MACK-ah” and meaning “through the clouds” in Kumeyaay), should weigh around 4.4 pounds (2 kilograms). The parents, Sisquoc and Shatash, may start leaving the chick alone overnight, sleeping near the nest. If the weather is still cool or it’s raining, they may continue to brood overnight until the weather improves. Even though the parents are increasing their time away from the chick, they remain VERY vigilant and protective of their nest and ESPECIALLY their chick. Some field biologists have even seen wild condor parents chasing black bears away from the nest area!

Up until now, the chick has been scooting around the nest on its tarsal joints. We refer to that as a tarsal crawl. It’s not uncommon, at this age, to see the chick standing all the way up on its feet, teetering around the nest, holding its wings out for balance. As its legs get sturdier, the chick may even approach the parent, begging for food. The wing-begging behavior we’ve been seeing will get more pronounced: lots of wing-flapping, head-bobbing, and trying to position itself in front of the parent.

It is possible that the parents, who are offering larger quantities of food per feeding session, might be providing a small amount of fur/hair in the chick’s diet. (Part of the adults’ diet includes mammals, like rats and rabbits.) Condors can digest just about every part of the animals they eat, except for fur. This fur accumulates in the digestive tract and is eventually regurgitated as waste. We refer to this as casting. A condor’s cast is composed of predominantly fur, whereas a cast from an owl has fur and bones; owls can’t digest bones, but condors can. We have seen condor chicks cast hair pellets as young as three weeks of age. When the chick casts, it throws its head forward several times, mouth open, until the pellet is ejected from its mouth. It can look like the chick is in trouble, but it is perfectly normal and good for the chick.

At around 45 days of age, Cuyamaca will get its first health exam. We will obtain a blood sample for the lab to make sure the chick is healthy and send a portion of this sample to a lab in the Genetics Division of the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research. From this blood sample, the geneticists can determine if Cuyamaca is male or female. Also during the exam, we will weigh Cuyamaca (the chick should weigh between 7.7 and 8.8 pounds or 3.5 and 4 kilograms), and we will inject a transponder chip as a form of identification. It’s the same kind of chip you can get for your dog or cat at the veterinarian. Most importantly, this exam allows us to administer a vaccine for West Nile virus, a disease that originated in Africa and was accidentally introduced to North America by humans. North American animals, including condors, usually don’t have a natural immune response to West Nile virus, so we are trying to give our chicks as much of a head start as we can.

This exam will be the first time that Cuyamaca will see humans, so it will naturally be disturbing for the chick. We try to be as quick as we can (9 to 10 minutes) to minimize the disturbance. Additionally, we will keep Cuyamaca covered with a towel to reduce its exposure to humans and to provide it a bit of security. Sisquoc and Shatash are usually away from the nest when we perform the procedure to keep them as calm as possible, as well. We have to keep in mind that we don’t want Cuyamaca to become accustomed to or feel reassured by our presence; we want it to be a wild condor, uninterested and wary of humans, so that it may someday fly free in California, Arizona, or Mexico.

Cuyamaca will look very large at this age compared to how big it was at hatch, but remember that it is still less than half of its adult weight. There is much more growth and fun to come on Condor Cam!

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous post, Condor Chick Watching: Age 3 to 4 Weeks.

The chick feels safe in the corner of the nest box on April 16.

At 3 weeks of age and 42 to 52 ounces (1.2 to 1.5 kilograms), our California condor chick can start to thermoregulate, or control its own body temperature. This is when the parents can start leaving the chick on its own during the day. Depending on the ambient temperature, the chick may be seen shivering or panting in an effort to warm or cool itself. Also, on warm days, the chick may inflate the air sacs in its chin and neck to cool down. Air sac inflation can also occur after a particularly filling meal. Often, Sisquoc or Shatash may spend time in the nest with the chick, but they may not necessarily sit on the chick.

The chick is more mobile, scooting around the nest on its haunches, or tarsal joints. We refer to this as a tarsal crawl. It’s not quite standing up on its feet, but it can move about, following the parents and investigating different parts of the nest. You may see the chick start to gather items (feather, scraps of old food) from around the nest and move them to one corner. The chick likes to sit or sleep on this pile and play with the different items. These feathers and old food scraps are often brought to the nest by the parents. Birds replace their feathers through a process called molting, kind of like when mammals shed their hair/fur. We don’t know if the parents are bringing these items to the nest specifically for the chick or if it’s just happenstance, but the chick loves to investigate and play with them!

As the parents start leaving the chick alone for longer periods of time, it will be easier to watch the chick when it sleeps. Just like all growing youngsters, condor chicks sleep A LOT. With longer legs and gawky bodies, they often sprawl out, wings askew, in odd positions when they sleep. Do not worry! The chick is perfectly fine.

At approximately 1 month of age, the chick weighs around 3.9 pounds (1.8 kilograms). The parents may start leaving the chick alone overnight, sleeping near the nest. If the weather is still cool or it’s raining, the parents may continue to brood overnight until the weather improves. Even though the parents are increasing their time away from the chick, they remain VERY vigilant and protective of their nest and, especially, their chick. I hope you continue to watch the chick grow on Condor Cam!

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous post, Condor Chick Watching: Age 2 to 3 Weeks.

Rebecca tells students about the work she does helping endangered Hawaiian birds.

While it has been a long time since I stepped into a classroom, the second I walked onto Pahala Elementary School’s campus a flood of memories of my own school days came rushing back. I remember coming into the first class of the day and still wanting time to chat with my friends. I remember the small tables and chairs that I know I used to fit into, though now it’s difficult to imagine. And while I remember the class bells ringing in school, yesterday I was very nearly shocked out of my skin when the bell signaled the start of class. I guess that’s the sort of thing you never notice as a kid.

That morning I had the pleasure of assisting Robin Keith, a member of the Conservation Education Division at the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, in administering an essay contest to the sixth- and seventh-grade classes of Pahala Elementary and Ka‘u High School in Pahala, Hawaii. This essay contest was designed to discover a student’s own interpretation of, and experiences with, wildlife. The information will help guide our conservation education and outreach programs in support of our Hawaii Endangered Bird Conservation Program. Some students struggled at the beginning, not really sure what to write about, but in the end they all submitted great stories. Two winners will be chosen at random, and that student will be taking his or her entire class on a field trip to the ‘Imiloa Astronomy Center of Hawaii.

Students work on their wildlife conservation essays.

After the essay portion of the class, Robin spoke about current conservation issues facing Hawaii and about techniques used at the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center (KBCC) for saving native Hawaiian birds. Then it was my turn to field any questions that the students had about KBCC. I have spent the past six years working with some of the most endangered and difficult-to-rear bird species in Hawaii, but when it came to commanding the attention of 12 and 13 year olds, I was a bit daunted. Usually, when I’m presenting information about my job, I’m in my workplace with every conceivable prop and medium available to showcase the native birds. Here, however, I was standing at the front of the classroom with nothing but my strong voice, great bird conservation information, a smile, and enthusiasm for my job! In the end, I hope the students walked away with a great writing exercise and some valuable information about Hawaiian bird conservation. I walked away from the campus hoping that I had planted at least one seed of love and respect for native Hawaiian wildlife.

I must send out a very big mahalo (thank you, in Hawaiian) to the teachers of Pahala Elementary and Ka‘u High School for allowing Robin and me to invade their classes and for their enthusiasm in teaching their students environmental education. Another very big mahalo to the wonderful students, who had excellent questions about the birds and embraced the essay-writing challenge. We look forward to future collaborations with students and teachers on the Big Island as we work to foster pride and support for conservation of Hawaii’s natural heritage.

Rebecca Espinoza is a research associate at the San Diego Zoo’s Keauhou Bird Conservation Center.

But to me, a tortoise may also look like this:

I’m a veterinary pathologist, which means I spend a lot of quality time looking through a microscope at slides with tissues to try to evaluate health problems that show up as changes in those tissues. I can find dying cells, inflammation, various pathogens, scarring, thinning, thickening, bleeding, tumors, strange crystals, and unusual pigments. All of the changes help us understand the health problems affecting an animal.

At the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, I work exclusively on tortoises that have died at the Desert Tortoise Conservation Center. Why bother? Well, it turns out that one of the best ways to figure out what health indicators most accurately indicate disease is to compare the information from the live tortoise to the changes we see in the tissues if the animal dies. The more we know about which tools work to predict severity and type of disease, the faster and more precise we are at identifying and helping animals at risk.

To get information from enough tortoises to allow good conclusions to be drawn, I need to look at a lot of slides. Since 2009, over 4,500 slides have been made of desert tortoise tissues, providing an invaluable resource for the understanding of disease in desert tortoises. Since November 2012, I’ve been describing the changes I see so that they can be correlated to what was found in the live animal. Thankfully, I haven’t been working all alone; Dr. Lily Cheng, another veterinary pathologist, volunteered to spend two whole months staring at a mountain of desert tortoise slides. Between the two of us, we’ve done more than 3,000 slides belonging to over 250 tortoises!

Are you curious about what sorts of things we see? Good! We are always on the lookout for bacteria or viruses that cause that most feared of tortoise infections: upper respiratory disease. This is more than just a head cold like people get and is a big factor in tortoise population decline. Some savvy souls may note that no light microscope can show an individual virus particle (you really need an electron microscope for that, since viruses are smaller than the wavelength of visible light). Conveniently, however, some viruses clump together to form rafts of virus particles. These are big enough to see with a microscope, just as you can see a patch of lawn even if you are too far away to pick out a single blade of grass. The virus most common and dangerous in tortoise respiratory disease (herpesvirus) forms these aggregations in the nuclei of cells, and they are called intranuclear inclusions.

Below are some cells from a tortoise that had severe upper respiratory disease. On the left side of the picture, you can see normal nuclei: round or oval purple shapes that look very speckled, like chocolate chip cookies. On the right side of the picture, the nuclei are bigger and have clumps of magenta in the center surrounded by a clear rim. They no longer resemble chocolate chip cookies at all. Those magenta blobs are viral inclusions from herpesvirus!

The work continues at a good pace, and there are only about 1,300 slides left to look at. They weigh almost 7 kilograms (15 pounds) altogether. Wish me luck!

Kali Holder, D.V.M., is a postdoctoral associate in the Wildlife Disease Laboratories for San Diego Zoo Global.

The chick on April 12

At two to three weeks of age, the real fun of condor chick-viewing begins! The chick is getting bigger, weighing between 500 and 1,200 grams (1.1 and 2.6 pounds) and can often be seen poking its head out from under a parent’s wing. The parents might be spending less time sitting on the chick, weather permitting, leaving it unattended for longer periods of time, possibly 30 minutes or so. Never fear! They are nearby, often just out of Condor Cam’s view, 6 to 8 feet (1.8 to 2.4 meters) away.

It is usually easier to observe feeding behavior at this age as well. The parents stand a little to the side of the chick now, so you may catch a glimpse of food being transferred from parent to chick. The chick’s crop (the bulge in the esophagus where food is stored) may be visible when it’s full. It is between the size of a golf ball and a tennis ball and is a bald patch of skin. You will also witness a very common behavior called wing begging: the chick begs for food by flapping one or both of its stubby little wings and bobbing its head excitedly. This behavior can persist until after the chick fledges, or leaves its nest, at four to five months.

The chick hatched wearing a fluffy coat of white down feathers. The main function of down is insulation to keep a bird cool or warm, whatever its body needs. At this stage, the chick’s white down is starting to transition to gray. Sometimes this can make the chick look dirty or scruffy, but it is still as healthy as it ever has been. Both chick and parents frequently groom the feathers to make sure they are working the way they should be. These dark feathers also help the chick blend in with the substrate and the nest cave walls, since the parents are not covering the chick as much as they recently were.

Some viewers have noted that the chick looks like it has scabs on its head/neck or has wounds on its body, matting its down feathers. This is actually regurgitated food stuck to its face or body. Feeding can be quite exciting for the chick, and some food doesn’t always end up in its mouth! The chick obviously can’t take a bath at this age, but the food dries up, gets crusty, and flakes off, a major benefit of having a bald head! If you’ve seen the big condors eat at Condor Ridge at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park or Elephant Odyssey at the San Diego Zoo, you can attest to the condors’ ability to keep clean after a messy meal. Also, the presence of flies in the nest is nothing to worry about. Keep in mind that condors are carnivores, feed their chicks via regurgitation, and nest in cavities (caves, crevices, etc.) that are often sheltered from the wind. All of these components add up to a very comfortable environment for flies as well as condors. Never fear: condors have excellent immune systems and are only mildly annoyed by the flies!

Happy viewing, and thanks so much for your support!

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo. Read his previous post, Condor Chick Watching: Hatch to 1 Week.