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What Our Wildlife Cameras Are Telling Us About Nosara

August 2026. By Dr. Vanessa Bézy


One of my favorite things about camera traps is that they show us what is happening when we are not looking.


Before we started this study, I used to hear stories all the time from people around Nosara. Someone had seen a wildcat crossing the road late at night. Someone else had spotted a cat in their backyard and wondered whether it was an ocelot or a margay. There were even stories of jaguars being seen in the mountains.


The problem was that it was often impossible to know exactly what people had seen. Wildcats can be surprisingly difficult to tell apart, even in photographs and even with a trained eye. A brief glimpse at night makes that even harder. Was that really a jaguar, or could it have been an ocelot? Was the spotted cat in someone's yard an ocelot or a margay? The stories were fascinating, but they left us with more questions than answers.


That was one of the things that made camera traps so valuable. Suddenly we could document wildlife without relying on chance encounters or memory. We could confirm which species were here, where they were appearing, and, over time, begin to understand how they were using the landscape.


We might walk past a patch of forest every day and see very little, while that same trail becomes a highway for wildlife after dark. Over the past several years, WCA's cameras have given us thousands of these glimpses into the lives of the animals sharing this landscape with us, and some of the results have genuinely surprised me.



Since we began monitoring in 2022, our cameras have recorded 69 species of mammals, birds, and reptiles. One of the most interesting findings is where we are seeing that diversity.


To compare sites fairly, we used a method that accounts for differences in how long each camera was operating. In other words, we asked: if every site had been sampled equally, how much wildlife diversity would we expect to find there?


What we found was striking. Forested areas near development showed much greater diversity than developed areas themselves, and in some cases levels of diversity comparable to areas inside the refuge.


To me, that is a really important finding for Nosara.

It does not mean that development has no impact on wildlife. It means that the forest that remains within and around developed areas is still incredibly valuable. Wildlife does not recognize the boundaries we draw between a protected refuge, a park, a hotel, or someone's backyard. If there is forest, food, water, and a way to move safely from one habitat patch to another, animals will use it.


One possible explanation is something ecologists call the "edge effect." Where two different habitat types meet, species associated with both can overlap, sometimes creating especially diverse areas. We cannot say definitively that this is what is driving the pattern we see, but what our cameras make clear is that the forested spaces woven through Nosara are not empty or leftover spaces. They are functioning wildlife habitat.



The wildcats make that particularly clear.


We have recorded ocelots, margays, jaguarundis and, for the first time in our study area, a puma. So far we have been able to identify at least 16 individual ocelots and seven margays by their unique coat patterns. Some of the same individuals have appeared at cameras kilometers apart; one ocelot we have followed has been photographed at five different locations spanning approximately four kilometers.


That changes the way I think about a camera-trap photograph. It is no longer just, "Look, there is an ocelot here." With long-term monitoring, we can start asking: Where did this individual come from? Where is it going next? What does it have to cross to get there?


Those questions have very practical implications. If the same animal is moving between several forest patches, those patches, and the connections between them, matter. Over time, movement data can help us identify potential wildlife corridors and understand where road crossings or wildlife passages could have the greatest benefit.


It also reinforces the importance of restoration. We have recorded wildcats along portions of the coastline where forest has been restored in relatively recent years. Seeing predators return to and move through restored habitat is a powerful reminder that reforestation is not simply about planting trees. Given enough time and connectivity, those trees can become functioning habitat again.


That is something I think this community should be incredibly proud of.



But the cameras are also showing us where there is work to do.


Approximately 13% of all camera detections were of domestic animals rather than wildlife. Dogs and cats appeared across multiple stations and habitat types, including places we think of as protected wildlife habitat.

That overlap matters. Domestic animals can chase or kill wildlife, disturb normal behavior, compete for resources, and transmit disease. And these interactions can be dangerous for our pets too. A dog encountering a wildcat, snake, or other wild animal is not a good situation for either one.


Fortunately, this is also an area where individual actions can make a real difference.

Keeping dogs leashed when walking near natural areas and keeping pets safely indoors, especially at night, reduces those interactions. Properly containing compost, garbage, and other food waste matters too. Leaving organic waste accessible can draw wildlife closer to homes and businesses, increasing encounters with people and domestic animals.



For residents, I think that is ultimately the most important message coming from these cameras: wildlife is not somewhere else. Wildlife shares this landscape with us.


The refuge is essential, but conservation does not stop at its boundary. An ocelot moving four kilometers cannot survive if every forest patch between protected areas disappears. A margay does not know whether the tree it is climbing is inside a refuge, a community park, or someone's property.


That means the trees we keep, the native vegetation we restore, the way we manage our pets, the roads we build, and the connections we maintain between forest patches all become part of wildlife conservation.


Camera traps give us an unusual opportunity to see that hidden landscape. A forest that might look like an undeveloped lot to us may be part of an animal's nightly route. A restored patch of coastline may become habitat again. And the ocelot photographed in your backyard might be the same animal photographed several kilometers away a few weeks later.


That is why long-term monitoring matters. A single photograph can inspire us, but years of photographs begin to tell a story. They show us which species remain, how they are using this increasingly developed landscape, where pressures are emerging, and ultimately what we can do to help keep Nosara connected and wild.

 
 
 

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WILDLIFE CONSERVATION ASSOCIATION

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