The blue that almost disappeared
She is the largest parrot in the world. And she almost disappeared forever.
Kacau Oliveira
April 26, 2026
Hello, photographers!
The hyacinth macaw lost more than 90% of its population. The story of how it returned is as beautiful as the bird itself.
There's an image that, if you've ever been to the Pantanal, you probably carry with you: the cobalt blue of a hyacinth macaw against the green of an acuri palm tree.
It's one of those scenes that seems unreal. As if nature had overdone the saturation.
But that blue almost became a memory.
In 1988, it was estimated that there were only 2,500 hyacinth macaws left in the wild. The illegal wildlife trade—fueled by the bird's beauty, docility, and ability to vocalize—had reduced a once abundant population to a frightening number.
Today, thanks to decades of quiet conservation work, that number has risen to around 6,500 to 7,000 individuals in the Pantanal alone.
It's not resolved. But it's coming back. And this story deserves to be told.
The macaw that depends on a tree that depends on a toucan.
Here is one of those connections that nature creates, and we only understand it when we stop to observe.
The hyacinth macaw nests in tree cavities. In the Pantanal, 90% of the nests are in a single species: the manduvi tree ( Sterculia apetala ). The problem is that the manduvi tree needs to be at least 60 years old to develop cavities large enough.
And who spreads the seeds of the manduvi tree? The toco toucan.
Without toucans, fewer manduvi trees. Without manduvi trees, fewer nests. Without nests, fewer macaws.
It is a current that connects three iconic species of the Pantanal in a relationship of dependence that no conservation plan could ignore.
Palm tree specialist
The hyacinth macaw is one of the most specialized parrots in the world in terms of diet. It mainly eats palm seeds. In the Pantanal, acuri and bocaiúva. In Pará, inajá and babaçu. In the Northeast, piaçava and catolé.
Its beak is so powerful that it can crack coconuts that no other parrot can open.
And there's a curious detail: in the Pantanal, hyacinth macaws visit cattle salt licks on farms to lick mineral salt. Extensive livestock farming, when well managed, ends up benefiting the species. It's one of those cases where human presence—with care—doesn't cause harm.
A story of recovery
The Blue Macaw Project, created in 1990, did something simple yet powerful: it monitored the population, installed artificial nests, and involved the local community.
The results showed. The population in the Pantanal more than doubled. Today, about 17 other bird species also use the artificial nests that were designed for the hyacinth macaw.
This is the type of conservation that works: science-based, with a presence in the field and respect for the community that lives in the territory.
How to photograph the hyacinth macaw in the Pantanal
If you want to photograph this bird, here are some practical guidelines:
To find:
Look for acuri and bocaiúva palm trees — they are the favorite restaurants.
Listen for the shrill "trara"—the sound arrives before the bird.
Farms with salt licks are reliable observation points.
Morning (8am-11am) is the best time for activity and light.
For photography:
In palm trees : Telescope 300-600mm, foliage background as context.
In flight : AF-C, tracking, 1/1600+ — the flight is heavy but fast.
Vibrant colors : white balance in "daylight" to preserve the cobalt blue.
Sunset : silhouette of the flock against the colorful sky — wide-angle or medium telephoto.
What to avoid:
Playback — macaws are sensitive and may abandon their nests.
Approaching trees with active nests
Revealing the location of nests — trafficking still exists.
Photographing the hyacinth macaw is an exercise in trusting the color. Its blue is so intense that we tend to doubt—will the camera capture it? Won't it look artificial?
The answer is: Trust it. The open light of the Pantanal, with clear skies and strong sun, is the perfect setting for this color. The white balance in daylight, sRGB for web, lets the blue speak for itself.
Sometimes nature has already done the hard work. Our only task is not to spoil it!
The hyacinth macaw is one of those species that carries enormous symbolic weight. It's beautiful, it's large, it's charismatic—the kind of bird that becomes a symbol of conservation.
But more than that, it proves that it's possible to reverse the situation. That when we dedicate ourselves to understanding, monitoring, and protecting, the numbers change. The population grows. The situation improves.
If one day you go to the Pantanal and see a hyacinth macaw perched on an acuri palm tree, stop for a moment and observe that cobalt blue. It's the result of decades of people who didn't give up.
If this story touched you, share it with someone who believes that conservation and photography go hand in hand. And if you'd like, tell me: which bird made the biggest impression on you in the field?