Hoatzin
The hoatzin (Opisthocomus hoazin), also known as the stinkbird, or Canje pheasant, is a species of tropical bird found in swamps, riparian forests, and mangroves of the Amazon and the Orinoco Delta in South America. It is notable for having chicks that possess claws on two of their wing digits.
It is the only member of the genus Opisthocomus (Ancient Greek: "wearing long hair behind", referring to its large crest), which in turn is the only extant genus in the family Opisthocomidae. The taxonomic position of this family has been greatly debated, and is still far from clear.
Description
The hoatzin is pheasant-sized, with a total length of 65 centimetres (26 in), and a long neck and small head. It has an unfeathered blue face with maroon eyes, and its head is topped by a spiky, rufous crest. The long, sooty-brown tail is broadly tipped buff. The upperparts are dark, sooty-brown-edged buff on the wing coverts, and streaked buff on the mantle and nape. The under parts are buff, while the crissum, primaries, underwing coverts and flanks are rich rufous-chestnut, but this is mainly visible when it opens its wings. The hoatzin is a herbivore, eating leaves and fruit, and has an unusual digestive system with an enlarged crop used for fermentation of vegetable matter, in a manner broadly analogous to the digestive system of mammalian ruminants. The alternative name of "stinkbird" is derived from the bird's foul odour, which is caused by the fermentation of food in its digestive system.
Podcasts:
Hudson
by: Dar WilliamsIf we're lucky we feel our lives know when the next scene arrives
So often we start in the middle and work our way out
We go to some gray sky diner for eggs and toast
New York Times or the New York Post
Then we take a ride through the valley of the shadow of death
But even for us New Yorkers
There's a time in every day
The river takes our breath away
And the Hudson, it holds the life
We thought we did it on our own
The river roads collect the tolls for the passage of our souls
Through silence, over woods, through flowers and snow
And past the George Washington Bridge
Down from the trails of Breakneck Ridge
The river's ancient path is sacred and slow
And as it swings through Harlem
It's every shade of blue
Into the city of the new brand new
And the Hudson yeah, it holds the life
We thought we did it on our own
I thought I had no sense of place or past
Time was too slow, but then too fast
The river takes us home at last
Where and when does the memory take hold
Mountain range in the Autumn cold
And I thought West Point was Camelot in the spring
If you're lucky you'll find something that reflects you
Helps you feel your life protects you
Cradles you and connects you to everything
This whole life I remember
As they begged them to itself
Never turn me into someone else
And the Hudson yeah, it holds the life
We thought we did it on our own
And the Hudson yeah, holds the life