The Oropéndola That Warned the Forest

Omar Enrique Berdugo looked up and found them still, almost solemn, perched high in a great oak tree near aviaries 3 and 4. There were two: the first, a raptor of considerable size with reddish-brown plumage, settled on the branch as though the tree had always been his; the second, more understated, identified as a possible águila negra still in its juvenile stage. The clear Wednesday sky offered nowhere to hide. But the forest already knew they were there. From a nearby branch, a crested oropéndola — black-bodied, with a bill and tail the color of old gold, larger even than a guacamaya — was sending out its alarm calls in an unbroken stream. This is how the warning system works in the reserve: no one needs to shout. It is enough for the oropéndola to speak. Omar documented the sighting with quiet patience: 20 photographs and 11 videos of the two raptors holding their sentinel positions, while the crested oropéndola (*Psarocolius decumanus*) went on announcing to the world exactly what it had seen. Three species, one oak tree, and the record of a moment the sanctuary now holds in its memory.