Showing posts with label Video. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Video. Show all posts

Saturday, April 15, 2023

Birds of the Yellow Sea

The familiar bar-tailed godwit, plovers, looking so different in their breeding plumage.   

Thanks to Umesh for sharing this absolutely beautiful video.


"The intertidal mudflats of the Yellow Sea contain the most important stopover sites for migratory shorebirds in the East Asian-Australasian Flyway - a flyway that has transported birds from breeding grounds in the Russian and Alaskan Arctic to wintering areas in Southern Asia, Australia and New Zealand for hundreds of thousands of years. The productivity of the Yellow Sea’s mudflats and the food they provide to migratory birds are critical to the survival of many species.

This film provides a primer on the basic biological principles of migratory shorebird ecology and why the Yellow Sea is a critical international hub for bird migration. 

Film is also available in Korean, Mandarin, Japanese and Russian.

Filmed and narrated by Gerrit Vyn
Edited by Tom Swarthout

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Braiding Sweetgrass

 In my To-read list now - “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants” - a book of essays by scientist and SUNY Professor Robin Wall Kimmerer.   The book has sold 1.4 million copies, according to the NY Times article - You Don’t Have to Be Complicit in Our Culture of Destruction.  An article that was shared by Dr Ravi Chellam on the MNS group.

Of late, I have been listening to arguments about science vs other modes of enquiry - and how not to slide into what I would call old-fashioned superstition and blind belief, while at the same time being open to older traditions of wisdom and learning. 

She says - "sometimes what we call conventional Western science is in fact scientism. Scientism being this notion that Western science is the only way to truth. It’s a powerful way to truth, but there are other ways, too. Traditional ecological knowledge, Indigenous science, is a more holistic way of knowing. In Western science, for often very good reasons, we separate our values and our knowledge. In Indigenous science, knowledge and values are always coupled. It’s an ethically driven science."

I came across a similare dialogue between Amitav Ghosh and Dr Annu Jalais at the Kolkata Literary Festival, '23, and since it was in the context of Sundarbans, it felt very relevant and immediate for me.  So tiger charmers, masks at the back of the head, vaccinations...and I must say I am more in line with Dr Annu in not dissing science.  

 

But the telling point that Amitav Ghosh makes about how all countries seem to be still in a colonial mindset of trying to control and consume, despite the glaring evidence of climate change, finds an echo in Prof Kimmerer's response as well, I felt.

 Q:  I see the success of your book as part of this mostly still hidden but actually huge, hopeful groundswell of people — and I mean regular people, not only activists or scientists — who are thinking deeply and taking action about caring for the earth. But that groundswell isn’t part of the story that we’re usually told about climate change, which tends to be much more about futility. What are the keys to communicating a sense of positivity about climate change and the future that’s counter to the narrative we usually get? 

Ans:  The story that we have to illuminate is that we don’t have to be complicit with destruction. That’s the assumption: that there are these powerful forces around us that we can’t possibly counteract. The refusal to be complicit can be a kind of resistance to dominant paradigms, but it’s also an opportunity to be creative and joyful and say, I can’t topple Monsanto, but I can plant an organic garden; I can’t counter fill-in-the-blank of environmental destruction, but I can create native landscaping that helps pollinators in the face of neonicotinoid pesticides. (Which research has suggested is especially harmful to wild bees and bumblebees.)

 So much of what we think about in environmentalism is finger-wagging and gloom-and-doom, but when you look at a lot of those examples where people are taking things into their hands, they’re joyful. That’s healing not only for land but for our culture as well — it feels good. It’s also good to feel your own agency. We need to feel that satisfaction that can replace the so-called satisfaction of buying something. Our attention has been hijacked by our economy, by marketers saying you should be paying attention to consumption, you should be paying attention to violence, political division. What if we were paying attention to the natural world? I’ve often had this fantasy that we should have Fox News, by which I mean news about foxes. What if we had storytelling mechanisms that said it is important that you know about the well-being of wildlife in your neighborhood? That that’s newsworthy? This beautiful gift of attention that we human beings have is being hijacked to pay attention to products and someone else’s political agenda. Whereas if we can reclaim our attention and pay attention to things that really matter, there a revolution starts.

Being creative and joyful in our interactions with the natural world - something I recall that Garima Bhatia and I spoke about when we met a couple of months ago, and that organisations like NCF and Palluyir Trust, and MNS also are doing.

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Ocean's 6: Real life Planeteers - Young MNS members learn about the coast and teach us all

 


Gastropods, bivalves
hermits and jellyfish
currents - wind and water
Swales and dunes
fishing and fisherfolk 

Shore Walks for all.

"let the beach teach" - Sara Mohan

"Our textbooks do not tell us about home - the sea next to us." - Yuvan

KYC - Know Your Coast


Wednesday, June 23, 2021

More on the sand wasp

May/June 2021


 
Covid quarantine
Morning coffee on the patio steps.
Watching the Quisqualis fallen blooms
Being disturbed by a buzzing.

A green and black digger
vanished into a hole
at great speed
in the blink of an eye.


Another one I spied
Hovering and humming
searching it seemed
for its secret entrance.
And then it vanished within.


I take a picture, 
ASK MNS
voila, an id emerges - sand wasp, Bembix species - 
even before the said insect did!

Anyways, the next few mornings
coffee and sand wasp gazing.

Sagarika sent me this link - Bug Eric had seen them in North America.
Which one was mine
Here in Chennai
I still have not figured.

Watched the way she shovels 
so powerfully
front legs flinging the sand
making tunnels
laying eggs
feeding larvae
catching flies.


And this link described the males
buzzing and wasping
patrolling the openings
laying wait for the female to emerge;
copulate.
One track minds
or instinct?

Quarantine ends
My observations come to a halt
generations of wasps
buzz in and out
unseen and unheralded. 



Wednesday, March 10, 2021

Kingfisher morning

 10th March 2021

Kingfishers have been very active this last moth, calling almost incessantly though the day.  This one got to work early.

Blues, to chase away the blues.

Unmindful of me.  Calling and communicating to the females in the territory I think.


Serious and loud
Focussed
Business-like



Friday, December 14, 2018

PTJ redux




Beautiful capture of Jacanas with a new born chick by Mr Ramanan.  Mr Ramanan's photo essay from the 2017 breeding season is here.  

I went looking for them a few days later with Sheila, and while we did not see the eggs (they had probably all hatched), we saw what was in all likelihood, the third chick.

When we reached, we heard the male PTJ calling in agitation and looking eft and right.  It appeared that he was calling the chicks.  Initially, we saw a slightly larger chick, which subsequently we did not see at all.  (I have read that when they hear an alarm call from the parent, the chicks hide under a floating leaf.  I wonder if that is what it did!

We did spy a littler chick, unsteady on his feet, which seemed to follow the parent, and I marvelled at how they stayed afloat and knew instinctively that they had to put their feet on the leaves and not in the water.  All the time we were there, it was not fed by any parent, unlike other bird chicks, who are constantly crying for food.

The wetlands was filled with the calls of the jacanas, the honks of moorhens, interspersed with the impatient school bus and a motorcycle driving by.  

I was dismayed at the amount of construction that is going on in the marsh.

Its a completely bizarre and distressing site.  There are homes, apartments even, and raised roads, while all the empty plots are filled with water, reeds and remnants of marshland.  It seems insane to come and build here, and even more insane to buy and live here.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Saving Ennore Creek




Poromboke is an old Tamil word meaning shared-use community resources like waterbodies, seashore and grazing lands that are not assessed for tax purposes. Today, it has become a bad word used to describe worthless people or places. Chennai Poromboke Paadal is part of a campaign to reclaim the word and restore its worth.

Video subtitle text:

Poromboke (n.)
/por-um-pokku/

1. places reserved for shared communal uses
(water bodies, grazing lands . . . )
2. a pejorative intended to demean and devalue a person or place

How did the meaning change from the first to the second?

Poromboke is not for you, nor for me
It is for the community, it is for the earth (* 4)

Poromboke is in your care, it is in mine (*2)
It is our common responsibility towards nature, towards the earth

Poromboke is in your care, it is in mine
It is our common responsibility towards nature, towards the earth


The flood has come and gone, what have we learnt from that? (*2)
To construct buildings inside waterbodies, what wisdom is that?
The flood has come and gone, what have we learnt from that?
To construct buildings inside waterbodies, what wisdom is that?

On the path that rainwater takes to the sea
What need have we of concrete buildings? (*2)

It was not the rivers that chose to flow through cities (*2)
Rather, it was around rivers that the cities chose to grow
It was not the rivers that chose to flow through cities
Rather, it was around rivers that the cities chose to grow

And lakes that rainwater awaited
Poromboke – they were reverently labeled (*2)

After Ennore got its power plant (*2)
Acres of ash, but river scant
After Ennore got its power plant,
Acres of ash, but river scant

The sea and the river, he has kept apart (*2)
The white sky, he blackened

The sea and the river, he has kept apart 
The white sky, he blacked (*2)

Once he gets done with Ennore, he will come for your place too (*3)
If you stop, challenge or dare to resist, ‘MAKE IN INDIA’ he will lie and insist (*3)

Growth, jobs, opportunities; these are just flimsy excuses (*2)
For one who sold the waterbodies, the lake is mere poromoboke 

Growth, jobs, opportunities; these are just flimsy excuses 
For one who sold the waterbodies, the lake is mere poromoboke (*2)

You and I, then; what are we to him? (*2)

We are poromboke too (*2)

I certainly am poromboke! (*2)

How about you? Are you poromboke too?
I certainly am poromboke!
How about you? Are you poromboke too?
I certainly am poromboke!



Credits:

Featuring TM Krishna

Concept: Nityanand Jayaraman
Director: Rathindran R Prasad

Lyrics: Kaber Vasuki
Music: RK Shriramkumar

Saturday, November 12, 2016

The fig tree at the timber depot in Dandeli

Ficus mysorensis - the mysore fig, at the Timber Depot in Dandeli
As with all fig trees, an ecosystem in themselves.
The fruits loved by birds and squirrels, including the hornbills.
I could happily spend hours here.

The yellow fig fruits and the fig wasps 

The story of the fig and its wasp
Posted By Katie Kline on May 20, 2011
Inside the rounded fruit of a fig tree is a maze of flowers. That is, a fig is not actually a fruit; it is an inflorescence—a cluster of many flowers and seeds contained inside a bulbous stem. Because of this unusual arrangement, the seeds—technically the ovaries of the fig—require a specialized pollinator that is adapted to navigate within these confined quarters. Here begins the story of the relationship between figs and fig wasps.
The queen of the fig wasp is almost the perfect size for the job—except, despite her tiny body, she often times will lose her wings and antennae as she enters through a tight opening in the fig. “The only link the fig cavity has to the outside world is through a tiny bract-lined opening at the apex of the fig, called the ostiole, and it is by means of this passage that the pollinating fig wasp gains access to the florets,” as described in Figweb, a site by Iziko Museums of Cape Town.
Once inside, the queen travels within the chamber, depositing her eggs and simultaneously shedding the pollen she carried with her from another fig. This last task, while not the queen’s primary goal, is an important one: She is fertilizing the fig’s ovaries. After the queen has laid her eggs, she dies and is digested by the fig, providing nourishment. Once the queen’s eggs hatch, male and female wasps assume very different roles. They first mate with each other (yes, brothers and sisters), and then the females collect pollen—in some species, actively gathering it in a specialized pouch and in others, accumulating it inadvertently—while the wingless males begin carving a path to the fig’s exterior. This activity is not for their own escape but rather to create an opening for the females to exit. The females will pollinate another fig as queens. The males will spend their entire lifecycle within a single fruit.  Each species of Ficus has a corresponding specialized species of wasp that fertilizes it. 
There's a wonderful video on the Queen Of Trees.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

It's World Pangolin Day

I have not seen a pangolin in the wild. And today I realised why - we seem to have decimated them - as with so many other species.  Why oh Why?

My parents could have done with a pangolin in their midst - they recently discovered that the wooden particle board behind their electrical switchboard  had served as termite food!

Now, if there had been a pangolin around, it would have put out its looong tongue and slurped those termites away

There are eight types of pangolins - 
  • Thick-tailed Pangolin (Manis crassicaudata) This is the one we have in India
  • Phillipine Pangolin (Manis culionensis) 
  • Sunda Pangolin (Manis javanica) 
  • Chinese Pangolin (Manis pentadactyla) 
  • Three-Cusped Pangolin, also called as African White-Bellied Pangolin and Tree Pangolin (Phataginus tricuspis) 
  • Giant Ground Pangolin (Smutsia gigantean) 
  • Cape Pangolin, also called as Temminck's Pangolin (Smutsia temminckii) 
  • Long-Tailed Pangolin, also called as Black-Bellied Pangolin (Uromanis tetradactyla)
Source:  http://pangolins.org

According to the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN), the population of pangolins is at a threatening low.



Sunday, August 23, 2015

Sinnadorai bungalow, Iyerpadi in Valparai.

26th to 30th July 2015

Hot, sultry Madras.  Our son was home on summer vacation, and I was away from home with long days at work. A family get away beckoned, and it was then that I once again thought of Sinnadorai bungalow, Valparai.  I had to be in Coimbatore on work, and learning that this was just 3 hours from there was an added bonus.  

MNS Sripad had posted some lovely videos of the place, a tea estate manager’s bungalow now converted into a lovely remote hideaway.  Then,  I also discovered that Meenu my college mate was the manager’s wife and running the place.  Decisions made with rare family unanimity and speed, and we were all set!

The Alayar dam at the foothills has created a huge lake, and the place was choked with tourists.

Forty hairpin bends later and we were almost there.  Well, almost.  We decided to use Google maps, and were told to take a left on Balaji temple road…we proceeded, dutifully following instructions, rather pleased at this aid of modern technology.

 The voice soon said turn right.  The only problem was that there was no right to be taken.  Thankfully, a helpful local told us that we should retrace and follow the signboards  

As we got back on to the main road, we realised that “Sinnadorai Bungalow” was well signposted!  Somewhat sheepishly we followed the boards now, and descended into the heart of the tea country here.  Every hill was covered with tea and the ubiquitous Silver Oak trees.  We arrived at the check post for the bungalow, and my excitement grew as we wound away from the main road, and up and up to the bungalow.




We arrived to mist that gusted across the driveway.  Bulbuls chirped in the trees, spotted doves called and squirrels ran across!   It was like arriving in Paradise.   I could get used to this, I thought.

The most enamoured of the lot, quite surprisingly, was my son, who at this point thinks a tea plantation job a good career option!

Greeted with a several-course hot lunch, which we downed with great gusto, we sat in the verndah lunch room, and the skies opened up.  We watched the rain fall with delight, feeling like those legendary sheikhs from west Asia who would land in Bombay to enjoy the monsoon!

It was such a wonderful start to the holiday, a perfect wind down, to sit there watch the rain, and delight in the thought of a week ahead of this!

The main bungalow
The Sinnadorai bungalow here is on top of the hill and dates back to 1929, one of the earliest residences of the area.  Part of the Paralai estate of Parry Agro plantations, it has been renovated and restored beautifully and tastefully.  No TVs and wifi in the living room offered just enough connectivity to the outside world.

The Sullivan and Wells rooms, date back to 1941, when they were the quarters used by the house help.  

This is the view from the Sullivan.  The Paralai estate is organic, and I wondered if this explained the abundance of bird and animal life. 


The bench with a view
We stayed in the room called Sullivan with a lovely view down the valley, a beautiful bench where we spent a lot of time.  We also managed to tear the cloth of the two easy chairs and fall through!  I, giggling helplessly and unable to get out of the frame of the chair into which I had got myself wedged!

As I looked down on the rolling tea plantations, I reflected on how the British came and completely changed our way of life and even our geographies.  Plantations are now part of our consciousness, and so is chai.

The drink of the British, a drink that Gandhi asked Indians to avoid, a drink that was a sign of anglicisation, has now become more Indian than cricket.

Tea estates have long been considered "green deserts", seemingly green, but not really supporting a thriving ecosystem. 

With acres and acres of plantations that are not going to vanish, environmentalists are now working to develop these environments into more diverse landscapes.

"How Green is your Tea?" estimates that tea landscapes in the Western Ghats support more than 250 animal species.


The main bungalow at night
I should introduce you to the cast of characters at the Bungalow.

Thavam - the night watch, who reminded me of a lighthouse keeper in a PD James mystery set in some remote corner of the British Isles, with his gum boots and quiet air, vigilant for Gaur, wild dogs and leopards.  A calm presence, he pointed out the Gaur to us every morning.

The Gaur are plentiful around here.  They wander through the tea estates keeping a safe distance from the tea pluckers and doing the useful job of keeping the undergrowth in check.  This part of the estate is organic, and I believe they like it better here.

Hello!  Alert and vigilant at our every move.  We retraced our steps as these three ladies were in our way.

We saw them almost everyday.  One senior male was a regular and a loner.  He had a broken horn and his ear was torn and he snorted his way up the slope in the mornings and into the forest, and came down again late at night.

Murugan - our guide on walks, whose love for the forest had to be shared, There was a wonderful positive air to him, earnest with his spectacles and ready smile.  So excited to spot the hornbills, and fill us in on the ecological history of the place.

Myophonus horsfieldii.  

Myophonus horsfieldii

The resident Malabar Whistling Thrush entertained us every morning and evening.  He sang only when in the tree, and when on the lawn he only let out a simple whistle.   He would hop onto the verandah in front of the bungalow when no one was around, and if we happened on him by chance he would let out an offended whistle and fly into the tree at the edge of the garden.  We loved to catch him in the sun, so we could admire the lovely blue in his wings.  Mornings were spent rummaging near the rose bushes for earthworms.

No wonder NCF's Shankar Raman calls them the Musicians of the Monsoon.
the “whistling schoolboy”. And yet, when one awakens on monsoon mornings to the symphony of its whistles, the name seems inadequate, and one wishes one had greater tribute to pay. In the great traditions of Hindustani classical music, it is the Raag Malhar that is associated with the rains; among our birds, surely then, this is the Malhar whistling thrush.
The whistling thrush has a fondness for flowing waters on the hill slopes. There it hunts aquatic snails, frogs, and crabs, staying open to what opportunity may offer, including worms and bird nestlings. Holding the prey firmly in its bill, the thrush batters it lifeless on a rock before consuming it, concluding their predatory bout with a piercing whistle, perhaps, or a dipping flight down the stream in search of more. With the approach of the monsoon, as the streams are recharged with waters, its song acquires a new zest and the bird begins to breed, even as other bird species in the rainforest are already done with their nesting and are out with their young. It builds a nest in little nooks and crevices along streams, among rocks and cut banks. When forests give way to plantations and rocks to buildings and bridges, the thrush, fortunately, is forgiving and may adopt a space under the eaves or a hole in a wall to nest. Yet, the streams and rivers are never far.
As long as the streams are alive, even with a vestige of flowing water, the thrush may survive in the ever-changing hillscapes. One may see it in coffee, cardamom, and tea plantations, swamps, and rocky, wet slopes, and hill towns.
One morning we caught the Whistling Thrush having a bath in the garden bathtub.


Two orange headed thrushes


Another neighbour who loved those earthworms was the Orange headed Thrush, a regular, rummaging about the leaf litter, picking up the worms and bashing them about before gobbling them!  These thrushes seems to live here as I saw them during our walks.


Zoothera cyanotus

Green Forest Lizard
Early morning walks were rewarded with an encounter with  a ruddy mongoose ambling across the path.  Sensing our presence,  it was up on its hind legs sniffing the air to determine if we were friend or foe.  With no threat detected it got back on all fours and moved into the undergrowth, before I could take a picture for posterity.  We saw him another evening too,  as curious about us as we were of him!

A Green forest lizard would regularly sun itself on the stone driveway, keeping  a wary eye on us.  Any sudden movement or loud sound, and in a flash it would be gone into the bordering hedge.
Our walks skirted the thick patches of shola forest that separated the estates, and served as refuge for the wild animals by day.
The shola forests, I was content to see them, comforted that atleast some of this precious resource is well.  Our continued existence dependent on their wellness, and I sent out a silent thanks to NCF and all those wonderful bodies working hard to preserve them.

The walks kept our appetites up, and a good thing that was!  Ashirvad the cook had a special magical touch - with his coconut souffles and caramel puddings irresistible.  I am not a great fan of caramel custard, finding them usually to slobbery and “eggy” - but this was different.  A beautiful, smooth texture and the lovely flavour of caramel.  It was wonderful that they stuck to south Indian food for the most part, with every item being well made, not too oily, and fresh.  Needless to say, we all overate.  

He and Rani together worked the kitchen with the mixie and pressure cooker heard all through the day, as they planned and executed their menus.  Rani’s tomato chutney was a favourite of ours too and we consumed vast quantities of it, with everything, including toast!

Uma, the housekeeper was very crestfallen unless we polished off all the food on the table, of which there was plenty!  She accommodated our laggard, malingering ways with cheer and efficiency - I think we were late for every meal!

Panchavarnam was her cheerful assistant, and her spry, slight frame could be seen through the windows as she went about sweeping and cleaning up.

The Spotted Doves were also in plenty, waddling across our paths, reluctant to fly until we were real close.  They cooed to each other through the day, and their calls after a while, were like the passing car horns in Madras, not even registering after the first day.

The bulbul roosting tree

So too the red whiskered and red vented bulbuls which were in plenty in the lantana bushes in the little patches between the tea, and they roosted in a tree in the Bungalow, and so were very noisy in the evenings as they settled down for the night, saying their good nights.


Streak-throated woodpeckers, streaked through the gardens with regularity, and I enjoyed watching them peck their way around the tree trunks, now in view, now not.


In fact they were the only birds who seemed to care for the Silver Oaks, all others giving them a pass.

Squirrels ran around with abandon, chasing each other in what seemed like a very involved game of tag cum hide and seek! What is the evolutionary use of this extreme activity I thought? Or was it really an expression of fun and joy as I saw it?  And then they would also get very vocal and noisy, setting off an incessant chatter through the gardens.

Another vocal group were the peacocks.  Yes, pea fowls.


They were in abundance in the estate, and supposedly have prospered and multiplied in the last one year.  We heard them through the day and saw them everywhere - on the trees, crossing the road, on the roofs of homes, in the tea gardens.  We even saw one spread its fan and go into a courtship bum-wiggle, but the peahen was most unimpressed, poor fellow.

Scarlet minivets darted around in plenty, streaks of brilliant red and yellow as they caught the sun.  They were also chirpy and noisy, unlike the Barbets who were uncharacteristically silent I thought.  I only saw them, rarely hearing their familiar kutroo kutroo.

Strangely for anywhere in India there were no stray dogs.  None.  And the reason for this we learnt were the leopards who feasted on them.

My friend Meenu has a pet Lab and she keeps it indoors all the time, unless accompanied.  We came across evidence of the leopard - an eaten porcupine, scat - but did not see one.  But we heard a pack of wild dogs one night, and it seems that they had successfully cornered and killed a baby gaur.  

Rufous babbler
The other cheerfully noisy lot were the Rufous Babblers, who had a lot to say to each other in the tea bushes.  With their tails wagging at every loud chirrup, they always seemed to be scolding each other somehow.  It was delightful to catch them in the evenings when they were at their most vocal.

Of a more solitary nature were the Long-tailed Shrikes seen on the electric wires, their robber baron looks giving them a menacing air.  The Magpie Robins were also solitary, but their upright tails and cheeky boldness along with their calls made them appear cheerful.

The raptors seen most commonly were the Crested Serpent Eagles, and one morning we heard pair of them up in the sky.  They called and circled for a long time above us, suddenly falling into dives before levelling off.

As they called, there was an answering call from further east.  Were they all a family?  Was the juvenile being a laggard, I idly wondered.

The next day, we saw this one in the tree, and it called repeatedly.


Hill Neem - a favourite with the hornbills

One morning I saw a lone large pigeon in the Hill Neem tree across the front lawn.  I hurried to consult Grimmett and Inskipp, and yes it was an Imperial Pigeon!  The first time I was seeing this large Pigeon.  Subsequently we saw a whole flock of them up on a tree, and their call was magnificent and deep, like my Madras rock pigeons with the base and volume turned up!

The days were filled with butterflies and the nights with moths, of various sizes shapes and colours.





The evening light was beautiful and magical.
And the sunsets were spectacular on the days when there were no clouds in the horizon, and the Bungalow and our room was well located to enjoy the beautiful skies and the layers of hills and mountains, each with different depths and shades.



Dusk, and the magpie robin would signal the end of the day, even as the bulbuls crowded in to the trees in the bungalow for their nighttime roost.

All of this faded into the background that one morning when we saw the Great Indian Hornbill. Murugan had taken us on a walk into the neighbouring coffee plantation with the hope that we would see them.  (My naturalist luck is pretty abysmal - I always miss the tiger, don’t see the Trogon, arrive just after the owl took off, etc etc - and therefore I assumed that this morning would also be the same.)

Some heavy swooshing in the trees and I saw a pair of Malabar Grey hornbills.  Not bad I thought, Some Pompadour pigeons, a shortwing, Malabar squirrel and a black bulbul, and I was pretty satisfied.

Then suddenly there was a big movement of a branch, and i assumed it was a monkey jumping from tree to tree, but then I saw a yellow casque!  Try as we may, that is all we saw for about ten minutes. The bird was right in the middle of the tree, we did not want to disturb it, and so we waited, keeping an eye on that  unmoving casque.

Murugan in a low tone said it was a juvenile and probably the parents were around.  Sure enough there was a harsh call, so loud it must have been heard in the next estate, and with a whoosh that would put Batman to shame, the Parents appeared on the scene!  What a sight it was, as they moved from tree to tree, eating fruits, showing themselves, and the majesty of their wingspan.

Our first sighting of these magnificent hornbills.  (Buceros bicornis)

When we returned, we were told that they do visit the trees of the Bungalow, but only when very quiet..... I thought we were quiet enough!
We had a run of the whole house for our entire stay, and sprawled ourselves across the library with book choices from Pamuk and Amitav Ghosh to Bhagat and Collins.  It was quite a luxury I admit and a bonus of travelling off season.

And so we  spent that last week of July, walking, birding, reading, eating and sleeping.

It was time to leave, but not before we had a last look at the Grass Hills.  It was a clear, sunny day, and the hills were revealed.  The Shola grasslands could be seen in the distance.  Meenu mentioned that the grasses were a good 6 ft tall, and I was reminded of Bahminidadar at Kanha.

The Grass Hills, in the background, from the garden of the Manager's bungalow.
 

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Video: Drone Captures Amazing Humpback Whale Feeding Event on Camera

Video: Drone Captures Amazing Humpback Whale Feeding Event on Camera � Focusing on Wildlife



Apart from their massive size, humpback whales are most known for their extensive, complex “songs” that male humpbacks use for communication. But, humpback whales also have some fascinating feeding behaviors that are also worthy of attention—particularly bubble-netting. This form of feeding behavior occurs when groups of about four to twenty humpback whales concentrate their prey—like herring or krill—in large groups by producing bubbles and vocalizations before lunging at them, according to the Alaska Fisheries Science Center, Auke Bay Laboratories.
In recent footage captured off Alaska, a drone caught this incredible behavior on film as humpback whales race along the water’s surface in search of their prey. Then, around 50 seconds into the video, members of a pod of these whales lunge from the water’s surface and trap their tasty meal. Other footage recently captured off Norway filmed similar behavior, though in a much closer view.

Humpback whales feeding in Alaska. (Photo: AkXpro / Vimeo)
Humpback whales feeding in Alaska. (Photo: AkXpro / Vimeo)
Apart from this fascinating feeding behavior, a recent study also found out that humpback whales work together when feeding at night in dark, deeper water. The study, published in Scientific Reports, found that the whales make “tick-tock”-like noises—which may be used as a signal to notify nearby whales that food is in the area, or to help draw one of their prey, sand lance, up from the ocean floor.
Humpback whales can grow up to a staggering 60 feet long and weigh up to 40 tons, according to National Geographic. They are distributed throughout the world’s oceans from subpolar to tropical waters, and make vast migrations each year to breed. Humpback whales are listed as endangered under the  Act, though two populations are under review for delisting. Commercial whaling activity severely decimated populations, but humpback whales are said to be recovering today. Current threats include vessel strikes, entanglement in fishing gear, habitat degradation, and more.
Take a look below for a great view of this feeding behavior:



Humpback Whales Bubble Feeding Drone Views from AkXpro on Vimeo.

I thought these comments were also interesting, so we keep the audio in perspective:


A nice film, but the audio dub really could have been much better. It's very apparent that the audio used in the film is not original. The sound of waves lapping on a beach, when the whales are a considerable distance from shore doesn't make sense. Also, the sound was looped, so the seagull audio is repetitive, and the sound of the whales singing is also, repetitive, with the same whale sound playing over and over. 
With the crew possibly in a boat controlling the remote control drone, a better approach for audio I think, would be to take either a camera with a good mic, or an audio recording system, say like a "Zoom, H4, or something similar, and do several minutes of just audio recordings of that same location. Yes, there are other boats nearby, but that wouldn't matter too much. The most preferable option, is to do a stereo recordings with shotgun mics pointed in the direction of the whales from a boat at a safe distance, call for silence on the set, and record the audio.
James M. Williams Jr 
It's easy to capture and record good audio separately from the film of the same footage of the whales feeding. It's also much easier to dub the audio in during post, and to manipulate the audio track so that it closely fits the activity of the footage. No one would be the wiser if done correctly. It's only a matter of synchronizing a few of the whales surfacing to breath . The gulls are of no consequence and recordings of them would fit regardless. The water sounds of the whales surfacing to feed would also be captured and easily be dubbed in to fit the footage... 
Whales, especially Humpback Whales do not sing while feeding. The sound of their singing would drive the schools of herring, or fish away, and even the krill they feed on would flee, so they do not sing at all when they are feeding. They do employ the "Bubble-net Feeding" though.
Very nice footage, beautiful overhead shots with the drone though. Thanks for sharing.

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