Showing posts with label Lockdown Diaries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lockdown Diaries. Show all posts

Friday, September 4, 2020

Lockdown Diaries - Ecosystems, learning and relationships

29th August 2020

A Saturday morning, and I'm up with the excited mynahs outside my window.  After a long gap, I headed to the OMR Tree Park of Nizhal, and with the excuse of assisting with some deweeding and basic gardening, I actually had a lovely outdoor morning.  (Mutualism?)

Rashmi left me to my own devices, and it was good to be on my own, working at my own pace, observing the ants.  A huge carpenter bee buzzed past, busy in the morning dipping into all the Calatropis flowers.


Milkweed (Calatropis procera) was in bloom everywhere


 

Calatropis, what an amazing plant.  This milkweed will never disappoint, always has so much going on.

Reminded me of Yuvan's insightful essay on The Ecosystem of Learning where he writes, "Within a square-inch of space I had seen awhole web of ecological relationships,..."

He writes about the experiments of the Songlines Farm School in moving children to the centre of education, changing their perspectives from an object-driven to a process driven understanding, which means the inclusions of all living beings in a relationship web.  The article is in full below.

Getting back to the Calatropis. and kin (read about ki and kin in the article), insects. 

A Gaudy grasshopper family (Poekilocerus pictus)  were busy feeding on the milkweed, which is considered poisonous to everything else.

Predation - A jumping spider had caught and was busy snuffing the life out of another insect that I couldn't make out.


This Lynx Spider, on the other hand, was not so lucky and was yet to find ki's breakfast 


Mutualism - A Small Banded Swift - a butterfly was also on the lookout for nectar

A better picture of the Skipper, but I have not yet identified this tree

Competition? Elsewhere on what looked like some member of the legume family, a Small Transverse Lady Beetle seemed to be having a face off with the black ant.  The beetle was probably looking to eat some aphids, which the ant was busy rearing?  

I admired the designs on this shiny red beetle (Coccinella transversalis)


The Calatropis plants were in fruit and seed.  Fruits created by the pollination of a whole set of different pollinators.  This one was ready to let go of more seeds.  And ki also was feeding many insects and beetles.

And after much workout for my knees and back - all that sitting on the haunches while deweeding - it was time to leave.  The butterflies and Odonates were just beginning to whizz around.  A whole host of Tawny Costers, Plain Tigers, Grass Yellows, and even a Blue striped tiger.  I saw my first Picture Wing dragonfly as I walked around outside the park, among the overgrown weeds and grass.

The wonderful work that the Nizhal team does, day in and day out, come rain come shine, through the lockdown and pandemic, sometimes even through the thoughtlessness of institutional action, it is remarkable and inspiring. 

Putting into action what Yuvan writes about.

Here is the essay.

The Ecosystem of Learning

By M. Yuvan on Aug. 27, 2020 in Environment and Ecology
Reimagining an Earth-centric and child-centric education

Specially written for Vikalp Sangam

On the Drumstick tree dozens of Lappet moth caterpillars had begun to descend from the foliage. Their furry bodies draped its trunk. Tender bark exfoliated with their feeding. I was accompanying a group of children to the animal shed, at the Songlines Farm School. Songlines is an alternative educational space I am part of running under Abacus Montessori School, where children and educators live and learn on a farm, with the natural environment. It is located in the small village of Vellaputhur, in the district of Kanchipuram, Tamil Nadu. The monsoon was retreating, and the dense December mist would veil every dawn for several more days.

Larvae throw a unique challenge to language. Lappet caterpillars physiologically lack a gender till they metamorphose into moths. For the period of their larval lives they are non-binary creatures and their physicality ‘trans’cends our commonly held gender notions. Let us for a moment suppose – if we had to address the caterpillar, how would we, while also treating it as an alive, animate creation? What pronoun would we use to describe its activities on the Drumstick tree? She, he, it – all fall short. ‘They’, ‘them’, ‘Ze’, Zir’ are now coming into use. The bryologist and writer Robin Wall Kimmerer has proposed the words ‘ki’ and ‘kin’, singular and plural respectively, as gender-neutral more-than-human pronouns, for trees, moss, mountains and others we’d like to speak of, ascribing animacy to. ‘Ki’ is from Potawatomi, a native American language. ‘Kin’ is from English, ringing with kinship. They happen to be phonetically related words.

“Ki is crawling down the trunk to pupate in the soil”

“Kin are more in number on the shady side of the tree”

I feel a dormant part of my mind shifting in its sleep when I speak these sentences. They stretch my mind in an unfamiliar direction, though a strangely intimate one.Here is a new portal of greeting, speaking, meaning-making when I meet caterpillars, trees and millipedes.

Across the line of Drumstick trees, in the vegetable garden, I would later do an exercise with children, as another experiment in shifting perception.

Some weeks later. Children strolled among the vegetable plants with iron pans to harvest Lady’s finger, Brinjal and Azuki beans. I crouched by some bean plants which were swathed with Aphids, to photograph some event which may occur amongst their gatherings. Golden backed Ants (Camponotus sericeus) farmed them with their antennae-tapping. Ants have been livestock-keepers for many millions of years before humans. Aphids in turn secrete sugar solution for the security services provided by the ants. Leaf petioles held fresh frothy spawn of froghoppers. I turned over bean leaves one by one, looking for any interesting insect-world occurrence, and the underside of one leaf offered me a radically new idea to engage children.

In the spaces between the veins were Aphid patches. Two Zig-zag Ladybird Beetles, staunchly aphidophagous creatures, were lazily eating them from one end. In a while an Ant came to check on its bug-herd, and charged open-mandibled at the raiding beetles, both of whom flew away as soon as the leaf shook with the ant’s arrival. Within a square-inch of space I had seen a whole web of ecological relationships, between four beings.

Let me list them –

Aphid on the Bean plant – Parasitism

Ladybird Beetle and Bean plant – Mutualism

Beetles eating Aphids – Predation

Ant and Beetles – Competition

Aphids and Ant –Mutualism

Bean plant and Ant – Commensalism



An entire ecological web under a bean leaf

In a few days, I sent groups of 9th grade children around the farm, each assigned a specific crop or plant – Paddy, Brinjal, Cluster Beans, etc. They were to observe the life on them, make observations, use field guides to identify the species they saw and make a ‘Relationship Web’. In mapping a relationship-web, children spread the names of the organisms they see, on paper. They then map six different ecological relationships (mutualism, parasitism, competition, predation, commensalism, and herbivory), each drawn with a different colour. Each creature is linked to every other one, through at least one of the colours – with a legend below as to which colour indicates what relationship. This is in contrast to a food-web, which is taught as an important concept in biology – a construct which portrays ecosystems as hierarchical, linear, and somewhat crudely communicating to children that organisms merely eat each other in nature - a structure somewhat reflective of our own linear extractive models of economy, society.

A Relationship-web maps an ecosystem more vividly and accurately. It is non-linear, complex, non-hierarchical and lends to many ways of seeing and comprehension. Children come up with composite and colourful maps of the microhabitat they have studied. You could start anywhere on it and follow it around in various ways, each an equally valid story of interactions and energy flow.



A relationship web mapped by children on the Bhindi/Lady’s Finger plant

Once the activity is over and the Relationship-webs are presented by each group, several reflections are pursued.

What were some new learnings and un-learnings during the activity? Which relationships are the most frequently noted in my web and why? How do soil, water, and air flow in it, animate it? How do we participate in this web?

With teachers and older students, I have pursued or been posed with some deeper questions which have sparked off other tangents of conversation –

“If democracy is a matter of shared beliefs, then I believe in the democracy of species”

– Robin Wall Kimmerer.

A relationship web charts what could be called an ‘inter-species democracy’ which is alive in natural ecosystems. Where extractive energy flows are balanced with counter flows to it. And where one can see interdependence, diversity, and plurality at work.

“When you see this paper, do you see the clouds?” – Thich Nhat Hahn

When we see life forms, do we see them as separate objects or do we also see their relatedness? How easily do we perceive relatedness?

What social constructs are reflected in other concepts and subjects taught in school? Do we want to reimagine, restructure them?

______________________________________________________________________

In her essay “Perceiving how we perceive”, educator Seetha Ananthasivan speaks about two different kinds of perception – object perception and process perception. She says, “a major preoccupation in nursery and primary education is on learning the names of objects.”Little is done to allow the child to discover the connected and hidden realities of these isolated objects. For instance, is a child encouraged to think, ask a question of a water bottle – where it came from, how it was made, where it will go after its use? This is process perception. In the materials we use, food we eat, clothes we wear, do we perceive beyond their separate forms?

We could say that the culture of consumerism, even the politics of capitalism thrives on object perception. Violence, deeply hidden and structural, is distanced from the products on their sanitized shelves. They dote on anaesthetized eyes which don’t and won’t see beyond them.

As somebody working at the intersection of education and conservation, I am interested in understanding if and how ecological loss affects the richness, depth, and diversity of our perception – especially of children who have come into the world during this period. Also, are we to pass on the same model of education we went through, in the era in which they’ve entered this planet?

In my experience as a teacher, young children have a natural familiarity and curiosity for parks, fields, beaches, bird sanctuaries - wildernesses. In little time they feel at home - somehow part of the living-systems themselves. This capacity of kinship and openness to the trees, birds, insects, and soil diminishes if such experiences are not created when they are young. Children are deprived from many ways of seeing, thinking, and learning when schooling is divorced from the natural world. Visionary educators like Maria Montessori and J.Krishnamurti have emphasised this in their teachings. In her concept of ‘Erd-Kinder’ Montessori stresses upon the importance of adolescent children growing in a farm-school, working with the land, growing their own food and being in touch with the landscape. She explains how this is a necessity for the developmental needs of children at this age. Richard Louv braids the wild and the wellbeing of the child intimately in his seminal book ‘Last Child in the Woods’. He emphatically says that “if we are to save the environment, we must also save an endangered indicator species – the child in nature”. Children and nature have a reciprocal relationship in protecting each other.

Work by psychologist Gail F. Melson opens up how contact with other forms of life is important in all aspects of child development – cognitive, social, emotional, and moral. She, like others, attributes this to the fact that nature is the most complex and composite learning environment we can provide a child, and hence an un-substitutable one.

I am continually astonished by how a well-planned activity in Kotturpuram Tree Park or Adyar Poonga or Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary, or at our arboretum at Songlines is inclusive and supportive of a variety of learning styles. Time and again, children labelled as ‘challenged’ by the linear yardsticks within the cinderblocks of classrooms, are able to express and enjoy themselves through their unique capacities and on their own terms, in living learning environments.

I am also keen on exploring how we can bring ecological principles into our schools and learning environments, just as we bring learning environments into ecological spaces. A fundamental aspect to any ecosystem is ‘diversity’. As Colin Baker has put it “In the language of ecology, the strongest ecosystems are those that are the most diverse.” In a single ecosystem we notice that there exists rich perceptual diversity. The Ghost Crab which sees the horizon as a full circle with its periscope-like cylindrical eyes. The strange Chiton, an unearthly mollusc, which sees in magnetic field lines and has an astonishing acumen for navigating the seabed. The Sea-Eagle which rides rising thermals and sees in heat. The mangrove trees which live by the tidal rhythm, stand on stilts, and speak with each other through fungal networks under the ground. The Blue button, which looks like a little jellyfish but is a colony of creatures working together like an organism, a puzzle between singular and plural. The Magpie Robin which makes new music each morning, who never sings the same song twice. The Octopus which speaks through colour. The Sea snake which paints its world through smell. Each creature has its own distinct perceptual field. Each sees the world so differently. Yet this diverse mosaic of perceptual fields, roles, and abilities, woven together by sand, air, sea and sky - form a webwork of numerous interdependent lives and a thriving and resilient intertidal habitat.

Can children’s learning environments be an ecosystem? A place inclusive of diversity – inclusive of all kinds of intelligences, capacities, cognitions – which makes it a rich habitat rooted in the place it is in. Such an ecology of learning spaces would be both Earth-centric and child-centric, and these, I think, are urgently needed now for children and the planet.

The mainstream education system is both unnatural and detrimental for this Earth-child complex we have been discussing. It is often described as ‘factory-schooling’ as it is rooted in mono-culturing and homogenizing children’s minds and aspirations. It is also a fundamental driving force for the economic system and the destructive model of ‘development’, both of which are the primary propellers of climate crisis, biodiversity loss and the social injustice we are witnessing today. As Carol Black says, the conventional education system functions such that children are “molded and fashioned like any other industrial raw material into a predetermined finished product”. It was devised for a dream of colonial industrial utopia. And I agree with David Brooks who describes that “its main activity is downloading content into students’ minds, with success or failure measured by standardized tests”. Those whose capabilities lie in the vast ‘outside’ of the system’s purview are ‘failed’, creating what Manish Jain calls a “new kind of academic caste hierarchy” and a “crime against humanity”. We treat children like inert media, passive recipients to be shaped into products for society – consumer beings. Often, their growth and blossoming, if at all, is in spite of schooling. Notably and not surprisingly, such education treats ecological literacy as adjunct, optional or unnecessary portions to be omitted.

The current schooling system also devalues diverse kinds of cognition. I immediately think of children I have interacted with along the Elliot’s beach over the years, who belong to the local fishing communities. They have a profound knowledge of the coast and seas. They are innately aware of the longshore currents, tides and can plainly predict weather. I can do none of these, despite walking these shores for over two decades. Or consider the children of the Kattunayakan tribes of the Nilgiris who can understand and track bees and hold vast spatial maps of the forest in their minds. Though modern schooling marginalizes these communities and seeks to make them ‘literate’, their embodied ecological literacy is astounding and is something no mainstream school has achieved. For the indigenous and Adivasi communities of India, education, and the ideals it imposes, has often been a form of acculturation, by de-basing their knowledge-systems. Younger generations are no longer valuing them and are no longer bearers of their eco-cultural wisdom.

A counter current to this form and definition of education has been emerging -through schools, colleges, and other institutions and movements whose core principles draw from ecological values, democratic values, and inclusivity of children – across learning styles, cognitions, and contexts. The unschooling and home-schooling movements have had an important role to play in this too. For my own work as a nature-educator, my visits to and interactions with such alternate schools have been deeply formative. They include Pathashaala, Bhoomi College, Marudham school, Shikshantar, SECMOL, Barefoot College, Swaraj University, Wild Shaale among others. And for the curriculum and activities I plan for children at Songlines, I have made for myself a ‘Songlines Wheel’ based on these learnings. This is the value wheel which I draw upon, to keep me grounded.

The Songlines wheel has at its centre Child, Earth, and Community. And its spokes hold various values under each, which guide the teacher. The wheel is the basis of an ‘Un-syllabus’ we are evolving - a participative, spacious, and context-based curriculum based on these values.

Here are some of its broad guidelines –

Bottom-up pedagogy – this means that the context, place, children, and their energies and capacities decide the curriculum. The curriculum is place-based. As opposed to the mainstream curriculum, which is top-down and sets a single rigid syllabus for everybody regardless of these diversities of contexts.

Conscious of content and process – this means that ‘what’ is being learnt or facilitated and ‘how’ it is done are given equal thought, time and effort. Conventional syllabi ignore processes and impose purely content.

Active learning –This is where children are active part-takers in the planning and learning process and have space to direct it and shape it.

Plurality – This has multiple implications. One is that these learning spaces normalize all kinds of learners and are inclusive of learner-diversity. Second is that lessons involve the head, hand, and heart and blur the artificial distinctions between sciences, arts, languages, and humanities, leaving no child feeling excluded. Third is that learning spaces are multidirectional – wherein learning happens along various trajectories, not just in the uni-direction of teacher-to-student. It also means that it’s a horizontal and poly-vocal space – where all voices speak and are listened to.

Values of Social and environmental justice– This means that rights of people and nature are respected and need protection for a just, egalitarian, and healthy community. Citizenship education is an important part of this where children learn their laws, rights and means to actively participate and partake in society.

With the Covid lockdown, we had to take our farm-school to the virtual medium and it was at first a challenge to envision such a programme through a digital screen. Just then the Tamil Nadu state government announced the denotification of a significant part of Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary – a place all the classes have visited, to watch birds and understand this lake’s rare example of community conservation. Our first module was to research about this issue and make campaign-art for Vedanthangal. The children’s work depicting their bond with the bird sanctuary and asking it to be saved, inspired many more schools after print media covered it. It incited numerous more voices to stand up for the cause. (Read Children Make Art to Save Vedanthangal Bird Sanctuary)

Following this module, some classes studied and illustrated the life-arc of various waste or unused materials at home and did upcycling projects with them. These came out to be cycle-tire clocks to a school bag stitched from outgrown jeans to toy-sets from cardboard to coconut-shell hand sanitizers. Other classes conducted ‘water audits’ in their homes, and researched and presented on various traditional water conservation systems in India. The lockdown had given us a strange opportunity to find other paths of learning and engagement, which, ‘unconfined’, we would not have thought of.

Through a subsequent module, the children became ‘Young Journalists’. Small groups reached out to various experts, naturalists, environmentalists, local people, government officers, etc. and conducted interviews about current environmental issues, and shared their findings with the larger group. And presently the older students are making a place-based, illustrated alphabet book for the primary school children (ages 2 to 6). A for Adyar river, B for Banyan, C for Coucal, D for Damselfly and so on. Words these young children can find, see, touch, enter and directly sensorially connect with in their school campus, around their homes and in the local landscape.


Monday, May 11, 2020

Lockdown diaries - Home to see the 'baby', and a happy Mother's Day

The "mother" Kopsia in my mother's garden 

And I got home to finally see the "baby" in flower.
Strange, inexplicable joy and delight.

And the coppersmith barbets have returned in my absence, tonk-tonking on the neighbour's bare teak tree.  Ever since the Millingtonia fell, they have been absent.

And the koels are calling frantically.  All night long it feels like.

Friday, May 1, 2020

The week that was - Lockdown diaries

April 24th to May 1st

A pensive cat on Friday, 
 a moth on my pillow, the night of Saturday
A chirpy bulbul before crossword, last Sunday,


Spied a dragonfly on Monday

Work From Home views everyday!

Glorious sunset colours on Tuesday

Gasp! A plane in the sky - Wednesday
and leaf art on Thursday.
Thus ended April 2020
Encounters aplenty
a month in Lockdown
the time has indeed flown.


Friday, April 24, 2020

Lockdown Dairies - Discovering Coral

23rd April 2020

Over the last few days, I have watched Chasing Coral on Netflix - no, it's not that long, just that I have watched in snatches - with awe, fascination, that changed to consternation and horror and finally ended with a feeling of misery and shame as to what we have done and what a screw up it all is.

The film is about the 2016 destruction of the Great Barrier Reef, and the great bleaching event that year, across the world, in oceans everywhere, putting the entire ocean ecosystem in peril.

In April 2017,  we (MNS) made a memorable trip to the Andaman Islands, and this included a snorkelling morning off Havelock.
Sheila's picture of the beautiful day it was

Seeing the picture brought back memories of that glorious morning, the shared delight of seeing those unknown marine creatures, the joy on my friend Raji's face at this whole new experience of ocean watching, the cool water under the strong April sun

I revisited the underwater pictures that one of the diving crew took and shared with us.
From what I understood from the documentary, this then is dead coral - just back to being like a rock.  Look at those beautiful fishes,

One piece of agrophora(?) coral still holding on


Honeycomb coral (I think) to the left, but on the right, that looks dead to me.  

And is this a bleaching coral?
There had been much tectonic change in the region after the tsunami.  However, as the ANET researchers were telling us, there had also been large-scale bleaching events as recent as 2016.

I read on their page that they now have a Citizen Science project REEF LOG.  Indian waters and corals suffer from poor levels of documentation and research so this is a welcome effort.

Vardhan Patankar and a whole host of young scientists are also studying reef resilience in the Andaman waters - why some reefs seem more able to recover from bleaching events than others.

This may lead to better predictive models.  "Coral stress is caused by an increase in sea surface water temperatures that remain above a specific threshold for three months. The threshold is usually one degree celsius above the highest summertime mean sea surface temperature for three months, or above four ‘degree heating weeks’ (DHWs), as this metric is called."

In the meantime, this year, there seems to have been another mass bleaching event this year on the GBR.

This is likely the last generation to see the Great Barrier Reef as humans have known it

Michael J. CorenApril 8, 2020
For 500,000 years, the Great Barrier Reef has grown steadily in the cool, clear waters off Australia. But after surviving five glacial periods, the reef’s billions of inhabitants may not survive humanity.
On March 26, the Reef endured its third major bleaching event in five years. Many of its corals sustained massive bleaching, even in the southern portion relatively untouched during the previous events, according to the Australian government. A rapidly warming climate has sent wave after wave of hot waters washing over the 3,000 individual coral reefs that make up the massive living structure, which stretches over 2,300 km (1,429 miles).
When water temperatures rise just a few degrees above normal, stressed corals may eject their symbiotic algae, leading to bleaching events. The bone-white corals are left without their life-giving partners. Some recover. But if bleaching occurs too often, and too intensely, the reefs die along with their ecosystem, often compared to a rainforest.
Sea surface temperatures, already 0.4 degrees Celsius higher than historical averages, are set to hit 2.5 degrees Celsius above normal by the end of the century. “Climate change remains the single greatest challenge to the Reef,” states Australia’s marine park agency.
Andrea Dutton, a paleoclimatologist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, has spent her life studying this phenomenon. She drills into fossilized corals to see what they can tell us about the last few hundred thousand years of sea levels and ice sheets during bouts of global warming.
She spoke with Quartz twice over the past year to detail what today’s corals portend about the climate, and the significance of bleaching on the world’s largest coral system. Change, she knows, is part of life on the reef. But the pace now dwarfs anything that has come before. “It’s not that life can’t adapt,” she says. “But the question really is, can we still support human civilization, in a sustainable way on this planet. To do this, we need a healthy ecosystem around us…Not having healthy oceans is a profound risk to human civilization.”

Can you describe exactly what’s happening?
When the ocean heats up, symbiotic algae, the zooxanthellae [a yellowish-brown symbiotic dinoflagellate that lives in the coral and gives it color], can’t stay there anymore. And so they leave. And what’s left behind is just the coral skeleton, which is white. If you were to look at it from above, it completely changes the reef. All the color would be gone. The things that rely on coral to feed them also start to struggle.
And that’s what the corals look like in the fossil record. They’re just these white carbonate skeletons that I work with to try to understand what happened in the past.
If you had to analogize what’s happening to the reefs as if they were a human city, how would you describe that?
When a hurricane comes through and wipes out everything you need to live, it’s left in ruins. Things start to grow over it. You can’t imagine life being there anymore. That’s what’s happening to coral reefs, which are home to so many different organisms in the oceans.
When those corals don’t survive, they get covered with algae. This really slimy green yucky stuff. I’ve been diving on reefs that are covered with algae. It smells with all the dead organisms on the reef after the bleaching event. It was so upsetting I had to get out of the water. I couldn’t stay in it. It was absolutely horrifying to experience in person when you see what’s happening.
The problem is if you want to rebuild the reef, it’s not like rebuilding a city. If you had a whole bunch of money, you could go in there and build new buildings, and people could move in right away. For reefs, you could try to put in little recruits, little tiny coral colonies in there, and it would be so difficult to repopulate the entire reef. We would have lost species. A lot of those coral recruits wouldn’t survive anyway. 
It’s not like we can just flip a switch and rebuild in the way that you can rebuild a city.
Will the Lockdown help keep the ocean temperatures down this summer?

PS:  The film has a shot of the Madras Marina beach (with a crow, scores of people and the lighthouse to boot), at bout he 65th minute.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Lockdown diaries - Adyar evenings


April 22nd 2020

In the evenings, pelicans come to the estuary, and its entertaining to watch them fish.  Today they fished along with the fishermen, and the sun lit them up so nicely.  This is an iphone picture, through the binoculars.
On the western side, the sun shone on the blooming Copper Pod, yellow on yellow.  The picture couldn't capture the "on-fire" effect.

 
I liked the way the evening sun lit up the panorama.
And another day ends.

My naturalist friends are busy looking at the night skies.  The Meteor showers show.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Lockdown diaries - Crow Chronicles

19th April 2020

And so the lockdown will continue we are told.  Stay home and stay safe.  It happens to be a Sunday today.  As a wit on WhatsApp observed, why bother with days, its either this day or that day or like every other day!  Sundays are different - I get a fresh crossword to do and see the answer for that annoying one about the Cockney bruiser  from last week.

More morning walks.

Past the crow bath I go.  They all line up, one row at the bath and the next row waiting for their turn.  There's a fizz and cheer in them, as they have a good splash before they fly off to the Tabebuia nearby to dry themselves.  
In good Indian fashion, these crows bathe before breakfast - sustenance provided by a Good Samaritan in the building.  Every morning as I walk round and round, I ponder the question to feed or not to feed.  And arrive at no answer.  I used to be anti-feeding....in the current situation, I don't know anymore.

A crow hops on the path in front of me, reluctant to waste energy in flight until there seems no other go.  Oh these pesky humans!

Anyways now that we pesky humans are all at home, everyone else is out celebrating it seems!

Chennai Skies so blue 
Flamingoes in Mumbai, Starlings murmuring somewhere else, starry nights and even the Pallikaranai marsh is teeming!

Downsizing life

R Bhanumathi, Naturalist

For Bhanumathi, the lockdown has been a chance to think about her lifestyle choices: a reminder to live a sustainable life. “We need to examine how much resources we are using,” she says. Whether it is using ingredients judiciously in the kitchen, buying fewer gadgets and cars, or “on a more personal level, even whether we need to have two or more children. I am glad many are making the conscious decision to adopt instead. Because we have to think about the kind of planet we are leaving for them, 30 years down the line.” 
Given that things are no longer easily available to us at our doorstep, she says this has made her pay attention to the whole process of manufacturing that goes behind a finished product and all the people involved in it. 
The lockdown is a huge shift from her regular life, given she would go on Nature expeditions almost twice every month. “This period has taught me tolerance and patience in thinking before making decisions.” The odd dragonfly still wanders inside her window. “One day, I heard the calls of a spotted owlet at around midnight. I have lived in Chennai since 1982 and that has never happened before.”
OK, Pesky humans, time to change!


Monday, April 13, 2020

Lockdown diaries - all is well in the world

Were those painted storks I spied, flying northwards?

It's April and the Tabebuia blooms, as it should,

...as does the Spathodea.
The skies are blue....
...and the sunsets are brilliant.

I need to remember that one species out of 8.7 million on earth is having a bad time, and I am one out of 6 billion of that said species.  OK that is inaccurate.  About 3,000 animals and another 3,000 plants are also having a bad time, because of the one species.  

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Lockdown diaries -

April 9th 2020

5am and I'm up with the crows (who never seem to sleep these days), to set off for my morning walk, before "rush hour" and so that I can keep the physical distances needed by the new world of Covid protocols.

Milk man, newspaper man, gardener lady, all rushing by with masks on and purpose-filled strides.  I hear a tailor bird calling among the Spathodea trees, but mainly its the chorus of kakas, who line up and dip into the little man-made pools of water, as they have a "kaka kuzhi".  Its a Neil Young kind of morning, as he belts out Hey Hey, My My.  Round and round, in eights and circles, among the plumeria, pugs and labradors I go.

And then I see the gardener trimming the border hedges.  The Ikebanist in me swoops down, gathers a handful and carries on up back home.

A summer exuberance
 11am - Done with the chores, and some time for watching the water and the birds.  I spy a cormorant flying south.  I perk up and look more keenly.  Four painted storks do a flyby.

I see the Adyar bridge with no traffic - what a strange sight, and the old bridge is being recaptured by nature.

And there's the broken bridge - in the background.  Here's hoping and wishing we don't see
that weird idea of a new bridge over there. 

I move to the other side, and see the Chettinad Palace, with the TS behind.  In-between, the Adyar flows.
Black Kites circle overhead

The backwaters and the Bay of Bengal - it is a lovely day.

Another arm or the backwaters, to the north.  Egrets wing across the water.  And was that a lone sandpiper that skimmed the surface? And in the background, is the Marina, strangely empty.
3pm, and the sun has vanished, I look across the Adyar bridge, and there in the distance, I can see it raining somewhere.

And soon, the rain comes, the empty roads glisten, and the smell of wet mud wafts all the way up to the 12th floor.  The first rains after several months.  Thunder, lightning, winds and wet clothes, tea and chocolate muffin.

In an hour or so, it eases, and I go down to do some in-building shopping.  It is beautiful and cool, time to stop and stare.  What's the rush?  Walk carefully, are the stones slippery?  

Avoid those door handles, use elbows for lift buttons, wash hands on reaching home....the new behaviours that I am now doing without thinking.  The new normal.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Lockdown diaries - A tree lifer

April 2nd 2020

Morning perambulations
Turn the corner
A sweet fragrance
Joy!

Shenbagham flower - Magnolia champaca - the heady and sweet floral fragrance that perfumers love - blooming here and now.
I thought of Janani and of Tanya and of our fragrance testing and the emotions of smell.  In Nature, the fragrance of the Sampige or shenbagam is rich and sweet and yes, joyous.  Something about natural fragrances, they are delicate yet strong, lingering yet effervescent..

It was my first time seeing a champaca tree in bloom!
Tagore's - The Champa Flower.  this one is for you SG and your Champa at home.

SUPPOSING I became a champa flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother? 
You would call, 'Baby, where are you?' and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quiet.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work. 
When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me. 
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading Ramayana, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book, just where you were reading. 
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cowshed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story. 
'Where have you been, you naughty child? '
'I won't tell you, mother. ' That's what you and I would say then.

Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Lockdown diaries - The constant gardener

29th March 2020

Meanwhile, there's a  diligent and gentle gardener at work on our balcony beauties, reds and pinks.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis - chilli red

Adenium obesum - cheerful pinks  

A new baby pink on our balcony - Kopsia fruticosa.  This one's special - the first bloom after coming home from my mother's garden.

Amaryllis lilies also red

and the rose bush in the corner, still putting out flowers...
..... this was its bounty in February

Vismaya - the Peregrine of MRC Nagar

Vismaya - so named by Sanjeev - a Peregrine Falcon whom he had day-to-day eyes on; Vismaya, who came when Maya the Shaheen left, or so it se...