
Alouatta palliata
The sound of the neotropics at first light.
You will hear a mantled howler long before you see one, and possibly before you are fully awake: the dawn roar of a male carries three kilometers or more through wet forest, produced by a resonating throat bone that turns a ten-kilogram monkey into a public address system. The howl is real estate law, troops announcing position so that rival groups can avoid an actual fight neither can afford. Howlers run the rainforest's low-energy strategy: they eat leaves, which are abundant and nearly worthless, and pay for it by resting up to three quarters of the day, draped over branches like discarded coats. Troops of a dozen or two are a fixture of Costa Rican forest, mangrove and even roadside strips.
Troops led by a few males, choruses at dawn and before storms. Movement is deliberate, hand over hand, tail always anchored.
Young leaves, flowers and fruit, fermented in an oversized gut; water needs are met from the canopy, so they rarely descend.
Follow the roar at first light and shoot upward with exposure compensation at plus one; a black monkey against bright canopy fools every meter. The wide yawn is the frame.
Never feed monkeys and keep distance at eye-contact height; habituated howlers end up electrocuted on roadside wires chasing handouts.
Generalised encounter areas, not exact locations. Each shape is a grid cell coloured by how likely the species is there.

Tapirus bairdii
Ancient forest engineer; patience is the only technique.

Panthera onca
Tracks along the beach at Corcovado; the animal itself is a gift.

Panthera pardus
Cryptic, solitary, and everywhere, if you know where to look.

Bradypus variegatus
Slow-motion cecropia specialists: look up, then look up again.