Two Journeys, Two Forests, and the All-female Birding Group that Made Them Meaningful

There are moments in birding that feel larger than observation. Moments when the birds themselves become only part of the story — when the people beside you, the forests around you, and the long miles traveled together become equally important. My two most recent guiding adventures encompassed a back to back marathon: an all-female birding expedition in Panama centered around the harpy eagle, followed by another all-female journey in Costa Rica in search of the resplendent quetzal.

Both trips reminded me why guiding is about far more than simply finding birds.

In Panama, the forests felt ancient in a way that is increasingly rare in our world. Towering cuipo trees disappeared into mist, and every morning began with the layered sounds of the rainforest waking before dawn. We traveled with a shared purpose: to witness one of the most powerful and elusive raptors on Earth — the harpy eagle and its chick. It wasn't easy! The youngster Harpy was experimenting around the nest learning to hunt and it took some time for him to return to the nest. When he did, it was glorious.

Even after years of birding, seeing a harpy eagle nest still carries emotional weight. Standing beneath that immense tree, craning our necks upward into the canopy, we finally saw the chick perching near the nest platform while one of the adults watched from nearby. The scale of the bird is difficult to describe until you are beneath it. Harpy eagles do not merely inhabit the forest; they seem to embody it.

For the group, the moment became something deeper than a checklist sighting. We waited 6 hours, and observed other birds. Then silence. Then quiet conversation. I admit we got very excited and emotional. Many of the women on the trip had dreamed of this encounter for years. One had traveled internationally for birding for the first time. Others were experienced field naturalists who simply wanted the camaraderie of an all-women expedition where everyone felt equally heard, equally capable, and equally immersed in the experience.

As the leader guide, I watched confidence grow throughout the journey. Women who initially hesitated to speak up about identifications were soon leading discussions about calls, plumage, and behavior. Conversations at dinner moved easily between birds, conservation, photography, travel, and personal stories. The atmosphere became collaborative rather than competitive — something that can sometimes be missing in traditional birding culture.

From Panama, I travelled northward to Costa Rica for a completely separate tour, but one connected by the same spirit of shared discovery. The landscapes changed dramatically. Dense lowland rainforest gave way to cool cloud forests draped in moss, bromeliads, and mountain fog. If Panama’s symbol was raw power, Costa Rica’s was impossible beauty.

The resplendent quetzal has almost become mythical in modern birding. People speak about it with reverence long before they ever see one. And then, suddenly, there it is — impossibly green and red against the muted forest tones, moving silently through the avocado trees like something imagined rather than real.

Our group encountered multiple quetzals during the trip, including several prolonged views that allowed everyone time simply to watch rather than scramble for photographs. One male sat in filtered light long enough for the entire group to absorb the moment fully. Again, what stayed with me most was not only the bird itself, but the collective experience around it. There is something profoundly meaningful about guiding a group where participants support one another so naturally. We guided, supported, and lifted each other up. Such a pleasure for all involved! Photography tips were shared freely. Excitement was communal rather than individual.

Birding trips can sometimes become overly focused on numbers, targets, and speed. These Sisterhood journeys felt different. They reminded me that the greatest value of travel in wild places is often attentiveness — learning to slow down enough to truly see both the birds and the people around us.

The harpy eagle and the quetzal could not be more different species. One represents strength and dominance in the rainforest canopy. The other feels almost symbolic of mystery, beauty and myth. Yet both became anchors for experiences that were ultimately about connection: connection to forests, to conservation, and to one another.

Leading these groups also reinforced how important representation and inclusion remain within the birding world. Watching women travel confidently through remote forests, share expertise openly, and encourage each other in the field created an environment that felt both welcoming and inspiring. It was not exclusionary toward others; rather, it was intentionally supportive in a way that allowed everyone to participate fully.

When I reminisce back on these trips now, I remember the sounds as much as the sightings: the distant calls echoing through Panamanian rainforest valleys, the soft conversations before sunrise in Costa Rica, the sudden hush that falls over a group when an extraordinary bird appears.

Those are the moments that endure.

Not simply seeing birds, but sharing wonder together in the places where those birds still survive.