Hello, photographers!
It is the largest owl in the Americas. And it does not build its own nest. The Jacurutu hunts opossums, flies in absolute silence and uses other people's nests. None of this is an accident.
It has a sound that, if you've ever spent a night in the countryside, you probably know. It's low, rhythmic, and seems to come from everywhere at once: "huuu, huu-huuu, huuu, huuu."
This is the song of Jacurutu. The largest owl in Brazil and in all the Americas.
It measures up to 63 centimeters, has a wingspan of one and a half meters, yellow eyes that seem to see right through you, and claws that require 28 pounds of force to open. It's a night-hunting machine so efficient that it's earned the nickname "tiger of the air."
The pirate of other people's nests
That's right. It doesn't build. It occupies.
When the breeding season arrives — in winter, when the nights are longer — the Jacurutu looks for abandoned nests of hawks, herons and other large birds. It also uses tree hollows, cracks in cliffs and, more rarely, a depression in the ground among the vegetation.
And before anyone thinks this is laziness or cleverness, the logic is different: the jacurutu is a top predator. The time and energy it would spend building a nest is better invested in hunting and protecting the territory.
It's a matter of efficiency, not character
The flight that makes no sound
If there's one thing that impresses me about the jacurutu — and look, there are many — it's the silent flight.
Its feathers have a special structure that eliminates ultrasonic components of sound. When it dives from a perch onto prey, the animal simply hears nothing.
It's as if the air cooperates with the hunt. And that's the result of thousands of years of evolution adjusting every detail.
Generalist by necessity
The guan eats practically anything it can master. Rodents, opossums (yes, it is immune to skunk spray), hares, ducks, herons, other owls, small hawks, frogs, newly hatched turtles, spiders, scorpions, large insects and even bats — which it captures in flight.
This versatility is what allows her to live in so many different places: from Canada to Argentina, from forests to deserts, from fields to urban areas with wooded parks
How to find (and photograph) Jacurutu
The jacurutu is more accessible than many people imagine. It does not need dense forest — on the contrary, it prefers forest edges, capons, pastures with isolated trees and even large urban parks.
Here are some practical guidelines:
To find:
Listen to the singing at dusk and dawn — it's the best "GPS"
Look for isolated trees in open areas — they are favorite perches
Keep an eye out for rooks making noise — it could be mobbing on a hidden guan.
To photograph:
At dusk: silhouette against orange sky, tele 300-600mm
In-flight: AF-C, tracking, 1/12500+ — flight is quiet and detection is the challenge
Prey: Rural areas with pastures are good for finding active game
High ISO without guilt: it's night, the light is low, and the photo is worth the noise
What to avoid:
Playback near the nest — owls are sensitive and can leave the site
Strong flashlight in the eyes — their night vision is impaired by direct light
Excessive approach in reproduction — the Jacurutu is aggressive in defense and can get injured
The Jacurutu is one of those species that we don't forget after witnessing. The low song, the silent flight, the yellow gaze, the imposing presence on a perch at dusk.
It does not build a nest, it does not migrate, it does not hide. It simply occupies the territory with the calm of someone who knows it is the top predator.
The next time you hear a "huuu, huu-huuú, huuu, huuu" in the field, stop. Listen and if you're lucky, you'll find one of the most fascinating birds that Brazilian nature offers.
If you've ever heard or photographed a jacurutu, tell me how it was. I love to know these stories from the field — and it may yield a next content here.