BOROKO, PNG — The first thing I noticed, as I drifted awake this first morning in another world, was the paucity of birdsong. Traffic roared outside, and the ceiling fan whooshed and squealed continually.

But aside from distant snatches of Willie-wagtail song, the avian world was silent.

I spent some time just looking out the windows, but I saw a very few birds: House Sparrows, two woodswallows, and one Willie-wagtail.

Shortly after eight, a strange screeching started up outside my window. I paid little attention at first because I didn’t think the sounds were actually coming from birds. The noise didn’t stop, so I went to the window to check it out.

Two birds flew through the branches, and I knew almost immediately that they weren’t parrots, which had been my guess based on the raucous sounds. I got my binoculars on one of the birds: a largish passerine with a stout black bill and pale cinnamon underparts. Proportionally, it had a longer neck and a smaller head than most songbirds do, and its big black eye was set in a streaked, brownish face. The birds’ upperparts were drab and streaked, as were their upper breasts.

After I’d watched them moving around a bit, they went out of sight, but the squawking didn’t stop. I hurried outside to watch them some more, and there I could see that there were four or more in the tree. They didn’t stay still for long, and I never could make out what they were actually doing. I didn’t see them eating anything, and they didn’t appear to interact much with each other.

I knew they weren’t honeyeaters, and the only thing I could think of was bowerbirds. But I had never imagined bowerbirds 1. in the treetops or 2. in a city. In a few more minutes, the birds had moved out of sight, and I went inside to get breakfast.

Breakfast done, I returned to my room to research. I found the species easily enough: Fawn-breasted Bowerbird. Cool!

As the morning went on, I watched two Willie-wagtails swooping around a bougainvillea, their black-and-white plumage contrasting sharply with the bright magenta blooms.

A woodswallow landed on a powerline, its bill clamped firmly on a large sphinx moth. The moth seemed to be half the bird’s size, and I wondered what the bird was going to do with the creature, now that it was caught. The process wasn’t quick, but eventually, the bird managed to remove all four wings, getting its face covered with dusty scales as it worked.

Once it got down to the cigar-shaped body, the situation looked more hopeful, but the body was still too large to be swallowed. The bird was not equipped to hold the moth between its feet and tear off pieces, so it shook the body around and knocked against the arm of a telephone pole. It sat for long moments not doing anything, just looking around with the corpse still held firmly in its blue-gray bill.

Eventually, after it had torn off and swallowed a few smaller pieces, it maneuvered what was left of the abdomen and started gulping. It took a little while, but finally the whole thing was down, and the bird sat still, looking around and bobbing its tail in satisfaction.

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA — With plenty of time before my plane to Moresby, I decided to wander around the international terminal, staring out at any greenspace I could find. The day was gray and wet, which made the rich and varied greens even more beautiful. On my last trip through Brisbane, everything had been dry and brown. The swallows I remembered from last year were not nesting under the building’s eaves. I suppose it’s the wrong time of year for them.

A couple of Australasian Magpies hunted around on the ground, and one had a grayish nape and grayish scaling on the back. I wasn’t sure whether it was of another race from the birds I’d seen in Sydney or whether it was an immature. Subsequent research told me that it was a young bird.

A few windows down, I hit the jackpot. The trees outside were flowering, and a small flock of Rainbow Lorikeets clambered among the branches, feeding. Their brilliant reds, blues, greens, and yellows nearly took my breath away, but this time I had the presence of mind to observe their blue bellies — something the birds in PNG do not have.

Noisy Miners and small, spunky honeyeaters fed in the trees as well. The little honeyeaters were plain brownish-gray with blurry streaking on their breasts, pale bellies, and a small pale mark behind the eye. They were very active and seemed to spend most of their time chasing each other around.

I thought one of the lorikeets looked mostly green, and I finally got a good look at it. Its bill and eyes were red, and it had a few yellow feathers scattered on its back and flanks. I saw red underwings once when it flew, and its crown seemed a vaguely bluish-green, but otherwise it was quite plain compared to its larger companions.

Movement down in the parking lot caught my eye, and I was amazed to see a spectacular pigeon wandering along the sidewalk. Its head was topped with a tall, slender black crest, and its eyes and feet were red. Its head and breast were grayish, but its shoulder showed a pink tinge, and its wings were barred with black and edged with white. I saw it fly, and when it landed, it bobbed once, tipping its long tail forward.

A bird whose back was a most extraordinary shade of yellow-green perched in a tree at about eye level (I was on the second floor). Its head was black and white, and the bulging skin around its eyes was spectacular shades of blue. When it turned its head, I saw a bright yellow eye, but the side that was facing me seemed disfigured. The place where its eye should have been was covered over completely with blue skin. The bird preened, stretched, and flew.

I could tell it was a honeyeater, and I remembered seeing its picture in a book but couldn’t think of the name. I saw a few more before I left the airport, a couple flying over and another bird (this one healthy) perched in a tree. It was at a slighly different angle, allowing me to see the black throat that bled down onto the bird’s white breast.

A couple of Australian Ibises flew over, and then I saw two Crested Pigeons fly to the top of a tall light pole. The second bird approached the other slowly with his tail held high, bowing deeply and repeatedly as he walked. Then they took off again, flapping, gliding, flapping, gliding.

On the way back toward my own gate, I saw a black-and-white bird in a tree and at first carelessly identified it as a another magpie. But it had white collar and breast and a black hood. Its tailfeathers were lined with white, and its bill was long and heavy. It had to be one of the butcherbirds — and a Pied Butcherbird it was.

At the opposite end of the terminal, I watched a few Spotted Doves and more Crested Pigeons feeding on the ground. I saw a Magpie-lark, and I knew it was a female because of the vertical, not horizontal pattern of black and white on her face. A few House Sparrows moved about the bushes.

Soon enough, it was time to board the plane. I was quite pleased to have seen four life birds without ever leaving the terminal: Brown Honeyeater, Scaly-breasted Lorikeet, Crested Pigeon, and Blue-faced Honeyeater.

PORT MORESBY, PNG — Buffy-plumed Cattle Egrets flew along the runway as we taxied toward the airport. Familiar heat, smells, and sights greeted me as we deplaned and made our way through customs, and the rich, lazy phrases of a Willie-wagtail seemed the ideal music on a such a humid afternoon.

I saw a dove fly up to a low perch as we drove. It was small and slender, and I knew it was a species I hadn’t seen. I didn’t have time for binoculars, so I hoped for the best as we drove past. It flushed, flashing white edges on its tail.

When I arrived at my accomodations, I was anxious to wash off my 35 hours of travel. But on my way to the shower, I persistent call alerted me to a White-breated Woodswallow on the powerline outside, just as I’d anticipated. A quick look wouldn’t hurt, I decided, so I went back for my binoculars.

The bird’s plumage was edged with gray and white — it was only a youngster.

Later in the afternoon, I took time to look up the dove I’d seen. Two smallish, pale species live here. The Bar-shouldered Dove approaches a Mourning Dove in size and has rufous flight feathers. The Peaceful Dove is 7 or 8 inches long and has rufous only on the underwings. They differ in other ways too, but none that would be visible with the kind of look I had.

I saw the bird’s upperside as it flew, and I did not see any rufous coloration. I wasn’t looking for it, but in my experience with Inca Doves and ground-doves, the color really stands out, even in brief glimpses of a flying bird. Also, despite the dangers of judging absolute size, I’m quite certain the bird I saw was very small.

But I haven’t decided whether to put it down yet. Maybe I’ll see another one — better.

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND — We flew out of Los Angeles, California, shortly after dark Thursday, June 2. Traveling over 500 miles an hour, we managed to stay in the earth’s shadow for the entire 12-hour flight to Auckland. When we landed, it was 5 a.m. Saturday, June 4. I was a bit disoriented by the loss of an entire day, but at least I’ll get to live August 7 twice.

It was dark in Auckland when we disembarked. I hoped desperately that the sun would rise during our layover, but it did not. I wandered through the airport shops and looked at several field guides to New Zealand birds. I found one that looked good, but I decided not to buy it if I wasn’t going to see any birds there.

When we took off about an hour and half later, a cold blue light had just begun to illuminate the landscape. We flew over a misty marshland and then entered heavy clouds. When we emerged above them, we were flooded by light from the rising sun. I thought I could just make out a tree-covered ridge protruding through the thick layer of clouds, but perhaps I only imagined.

Within an hour, the mountains, grasslands, kiwis, takahes, and other wonders I want so much to see were hundreds of miles behind us.

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA — Dozens of swallows flew back and forth in front of the windows at the Brisbane airport. They appeared to be nesting up under the roof. I studied them as best I could without binoculars. They were brown above with pale rumps and underparts. I’ll have to get a book of Australian birds on our return trip and see if I can identify them. What looked like a Barn Swallow or two was mixed in with the other swallows.

I also saw several dark dove-like birds flying past quickly, often in pairs. I have no idea what they were. If it is a widespread species, perhaps I’ll see them better in Sydney in August.

The landscape was flat and dry as far as I could see, but soon we left it far behind.

PORT MORESBY, PAPUA NEW GUINEA — Air Niugini’s planes are emblazoned with a stylized Bird-of-Paradise. If all goes well, I’ll see the real thing before long!

We caught our first glimpses of the coast through clouds as we descended into the capital city. I saw what looked like House Sparrows through one of the windows. It was very hot. A short time later, we’d boarded yet another plane.

MADANG, PNG — Palms and other trees covered the land below. Thatched-roof houses made small clearings in the green.

When we landed, we walked across the runway to an open-air shed and waited in the sweltering heat as our bags were unloaded by hand and driven over to be placed atop a small, dirty counter. I saw a dark raptor flying over the short grass near the runway, and I watched a black-and-white bird atop a metal-roofed building. It was small and slender with a very long tail that was whisked continually from side to side. It was all black except for a pure white belly. My first life bird in PNG! — if I can identify it later from my field guide.

The camp where we’re staying is atop a mountain overlooking the city. The ride up was rough and harrowing. We arrived at the top as the long, long day finally drew to a close.