ON numerous occasions and for different motives during the course of a decade, I have visited the protected area of Mil Cumbres, in the northern part of Pinar del Río province in westernmost Cuba. Independent of its natural values, one of the most attractive characteristics of the place is that it is situated in the far north-eastern area of the Sierra del Rosario, adjoining the Sierra de los Organos, whose mogotes (hump-back hills) resemble the prehistoric animals who roamed the earth during the Cretaceous and Jurassic periods from whence they originate. In addition, it has now become the home of the Cuban nightingale.

In this almost magical place, I have traversed extensive forests dominated by pine trees, climbed summits, waded across rivers, entered humid caverns and observed their sulfurous springs, the mosaic of the soils, and distinguished from that altitude the diverse species of endemic animals and plants, or those in danger of extinction that abound in the region, such as the Corcho Palm (Microcycas calocoma).

On my last visit, I enjoyed the sensation of experiencing spring stirring. It was March, the month in which animals and plants alike respond to the urgent call of the wild, easily perceptible in the budding plants, the appearance of diminutive wild orchids, the nuptial flight of the birds and, above all, in the desperate call of the male tocoros to the females.

Based on a conversation with Xiomara Gálvez, an experienced ornithologist from the Flora and Fauna Enterprise, the purpose of my trip to such a distant spot was to encounter the Cuban nightingale, the song of which I had been warned: "Once you hear it, you’ll never forget it." Since then, the idea of seeing and hearing the bird almost became an obsession. What was it then, that little creature that took possession of my senses? Despite my resolution, the splendor of nature at that time of year almost made me fall into its trap.

From that moment, I searched in trees, on the mogotes, in caves. I knew that it is a rare and rarely seen creature, surrounded by an aura of mystery because of its little-known habits which have afforded it the title of "mystic bird." Although in recent times, certain Cuban specialists have undertaken research leading to a closer understanding of the nightingale, its daily habits and favorite foods remain largely unknown. Why, for example, does it prefer gloomy spots between rocks rather than the treetops to raise its young? And why does it exclusively inhabit the mountains in the western and eastern areas of the island, excluding the central regions of the country?

During a brief foray to the Cueva de los Portales, situated in the area where Ernesto "Che" Guevara had his command post during the "Missile Crisis", I was able to hear fragments of its song. The little I heard left such an impression on me that I devoted my time to finding it, convinced that whatever creature that could produce such a marvelous sound would have to be the most beautiful winged creature in the whole range of Cuban birdlife.

After three days of fruitless trekking using just the memory of its song as my guide, I had almost resigned myself to the fact that I would leave without being able to contemplate it. However, the day before my return, I caught sight of one accidentally after entering the Cueva del Calor in search of the nest of a Cuban boa constrictor, known on the island as the Majá de Santa María. There was nothing for it but to climb the steep mogote, approximately 100 meters in height, where the caverns are found. What appeared to be a simple exercise became a tough climb, given that I was forced to practically tread the whole time on sharp rocks without any support but the very crags or fragile branches that perilously snapped at the slightest touch.

Despite the fact that I was forced to concentrate on placing my feet where they had to go, as I was running the risk of falling down a crevice, from time to time I paused to watch through the sparse foliage of the few trees that grew there, in the secret hope of finding the bird of my dreams given that I was precisely in the location of its habitat.

During a brief rest break before climbing over the next rock, I heard the distant trill of the bird. I pricked my ears up at the sound and was able to clearly make out the most beautiful and melodious birdsong I have ever heard in my life. Gálvez was right. I apologize to the reader if the limitations of the written word prevent me from describing in words such sonority; I can only convey what I experienced: the sensation of hearing the flute in a symphony orchestra during its harmonious tour of all the tones of the musical scale.

My spirit soared and I thought my heart would explode. I would love to have captured the song in one whole stretch. Uselessly, my eyes searched everywhere for the creature that emitted that wonderful sound. Amazingly, and only with the help of my young guide, peering through the bushes I was just able to catch a glimpse. It was perched on the branch of a tree, some 10 meters away, but its color – similar to that of the foliage – concealed it. So that the diminutive shape and opaque plumage of olive green and brown did not break the enchantment of its marvelous song, I had to close my eyes and listen in silence.

As if the tiny creature had guessed my disenchantment, at that moment it ceased singing and flew off to goodness knows where.

Nightfall threatened to appear prematurely and I descended with exceptional speed over the sharp-edged rocks. As I came down without seeing where I was putting my feet, I once again heard the sweet song from the mountainside. I still had time to imagine the plain, solitary and mysterious creature that is capable of touching the hardest of hearts. •

The only places where the Cuban nightingale (Myadestes Elizabeth) can be found are in the rainy, evergreen forests or holm oak groves of the eastern and northwestern regions of the island. According to specialists, on the Isle of Youth another breed of nightingale used to exist but became extinct some time ago. Other different species can be found in the Dominican Republic, Jamaica, Dominica, Martinique, St. Vincent and St. Lucia. According to studies on the subject, the Cuban nightingale is also known as "the tenor of the mountain" as its song easily outdoes that of the Zapata wren, the mockingbird and the fieldfare, Cuban songbirds that stand out for their acute variations and the length of their calls.

It is known that they are unable to live in captivity, that they feed on fruit and insects and make their nests in cracks and hollows amongst the rocks, using dry, herbaceous plants to construct them, as well as small roots and moss interweaved to form a type of odd-shaped cup in which it lays two or three white eggs with black or brown speckles. Both the male and female have similar plumage and for that reason cannot be distinguished just by sight.