By: Ryan Rodríguez
Howdy y’all. My name is Ryan Rodríguez and I was honored and blessed with the opportunity to be the official hawk counter for the month of October, 2025 at the Canopy Tower. I had been to the Tower as a visitor in October 2023 and it was an unforgettable experience. The Tower checked the boxes of my favorite aspects of a birding spot. A raised platform above the tree canopy (with shade), a waterway for birds to travel along, topography, and most importantly the ability to observe visible migration (or what we in the biz call vismig). On top of all this, 98 percent of the local birds were birds I’d never seen in my life in a habitat I’d never seen in my life. It was perfect. One afternoon after lunch, while everyone was getting ready to settle in for an afternoon siesta, I wandered up onto the Tower hoping to catch something special. It started with a couple of Turkey Vultures, and then, 50,000 Broad-winged Hawks in an hour. It was the most impressive mass of bird movement I’d ever seen and I was in love. I’d long been in love with raptors and the spectacle of their migration. The way they use the wind and heat to expend as little energy as possible. The way they form swirling tornadoes. But this took it to another level. Leaving Panama after seeing hundreds of new beautiful birds, including many bucket list birds for me, this was the coolest thing I had seen. I longed for more, but this was a once in a lifetime trip for me. Little did I know, I would be back, and not in a way I could’ve ever imagined.
One night, in the doldrums of late summer in South Texas I received a text from my good friend Cameron Cox, “Would you be interested in counting hawks in Panama this fall?” Cameron, who had run the count in 2019 before COVID shut it down and had picked it back up last year (2024), needed someone to take over for 2025. Uhhhh, is the grass green? And just like that, I was back. It was surreal. I was living the dream. Day in and day out, my job was to do what I love, count raptors. Throughout the month at the Tower, I saw over 500,000 raptors: 300,000 Broad-winged Hawks, 100,000 Turkey Vultures, 100,000 Swainson’s Hawks, and many of numerous other species. I was able to document the first Cooper’s Hawk for the count, along with setting the record for Merlins. Every day was good, a lot of days were great, but there were a few that were nothing short of magical. October 24th was one of those days. One thing I forgot to mention about my job is I wrote a daily report, and typically had a little fun with it. I’d like to share with y’all my report from this magical day to hopefully give you some insight into what kind of impact witnessing such a spectacle can have on someone, me in this case:
Armageddon. Apocalyptic. BIBLICAL. Did I forget one. Yes. We knew they were coming, but we weren’t ready for them. Anytime a hawkwatch to the west of you is reporting 1.1 MILLION birds, you know you might get a few, but I’ve learned to temper my excitement. When I walked up on top of the Tower this morning, there was that same freshness in the air that I experienced exactly two weeks earlier. I swear by Fridays. Every Friday I have an incredible day, and this Friday, October 24th, put them all to shame. You can’t make this stuff up. Anyways, the Semiplumbeous Hawk screamed from the valley and a Crane Hawk cried from across the hill. The trill of a White-necked Puffbird rang through the mostly silent and peaceful valley. The high cirrus cloud cover was resisting the sun but didn’t hold up long. The sun hit the southeast first and 1,000 Swainson’s promptly lifted up with the first Black Vultures. Well, that was pretty cool. The sun had yet to warm up the rest of the land, but the first vultures were already loading up along the Panama Canal. And then like magic, HUGE vulture groups started littering the valley opposite the Canal and were meandering their way towards Cerro Ancón [the counting spot for Panama Audubon, located in Panama City, just 8–10 kilometers (5–6 miles) in a straight line from the Canopy Tower]. I texted Ariel [one of the hawk counters there], “Armageddon is coming.” At first, my hawk counting partner Adrián and I were frustrated not being able to participate in this spectacle, but eventually the south breeze worked its wonders and pushed them just into our airspace. Game on. 10,10,10, clicking nonstop. You look past your group, there were more, and past that, you guessed it, even more. It was like nothing I’d never seen. It looked like smoke. Like someone had shaken a snow globe full of pepper flakes. They weren’t all “our” birds, but that didn’t take away from the spectacle. The vultures gave way to Swainson’s Hawks but they weren’t on our side. Before I even realized it, it was noon. Wow. Just as we decided to go grab some lunch, the birds said NOPE, you’re not done yet. A massive mixed stream had formed near the Tower and it lasted for 20 straight minutes. In a lull I ran down for lunch, and stuffed fish in my mouth while I clicked off 10’s of Swainson’s Hawks. Then finally, a break. My good friend Rich came up to hopefully witness some of the spectacle. During the brief pause, a storm had started forming to our southwest, and I remarked, “this might be good for us.” It was. I caught the first stream late, after about 4,000 had already passed by. At this point, I had to whip out the 100’s clicker. And I didn’t put it away. I desperately tried to note the percentage of Broad-winged while Adrián frantically clicked off the Turkey Vultures by 10. We struggled to keep the whole width of the stream in our bins, there were THAT many. A hundred birds tall, roughly. Insane. The streams were forced over our heads by the incoming storm, and we continued to count until we were enveloped by rain. It never rained on us, but everywhere else, a spectacular sight in and of itself. Four o’clock. Wow. To finish off, as the rain lifted, another few thousand raptors pushed into the city for the night. Finally, the rain kicked us off the Tower. Five o’clock. I didn’t even get into the fantastic Wood Stork, Peregrine, and Osprey numbers. We also saw Sharp-shinned Hawk, a very rare Cooper’s Hawk, and a Swallow-tailed Kite with the longest tail I’ve ever seen. I thought it was a frigatebird for a second. Insane. I learned a new word in Spanish today. Demasiado. Too many. Eran demasiados pájaros para que mis ojos los contemplaran. Thank you God for allowing me to witness this spectacle. It was truly unforgettable.
My final tally of raptors that fateful day was 128,973 that passed through my count circle. I estimate I witnessed close to 300,000 migrating raptors that day. The most amazing thing I’d ever seen and it wasn’t even close. I could go on and on about the birds, butterflies, reptiles, amphibians, or other spectacles all day, but that was not what made Canopy Tower special. Truly, it was the people that I shared these experiences with, and the people who made this experience possible for me that made my time at the Tower so special. It would take me forever to thank everyone, and for fear of leaving anyone out I won’t try to name them all, but I’d like to especially thank Adrián Sánchez, my count helper. I couldn’t have done it without his help. I am forever indebted to the entire Canopy Family for making me feel like part of the family and taking care of me throughout my stay. With that, until next time, Canopy! Ryan Rodríguez, signing out.