Nanmangalam redux

 March 12th 2022

What a lovely morning today at Nanmangalam RF.  Looking back at my blog, I realise its been years (12 years in fact!) since I went in there.  IN 2008, I went on a nature walk with MNS and Bhanu in there, and was introduced to the many wonders of the TDEF including the GHO.  I re-read with amusement trying to find my way there - (no Google Maps).

Our son (a dramatis personae in many of my visits in two Nanmangalam) has "fledged" and the years have well, fled, and to my surprise, Nanmangalam looked better - cleaner, less garbage and more forested.  

Left home at 530 am, picked up Sagarika along the way and arrived at the gates by 615, and as soon as we entered the gates there was that nice woody smell, and the air was cooler.  Almost immediately, the road noises died, and were replaced by the calls of the Brainfever bird and an Asian Koel, almost like a welcome.

At the Interpretation Centre, I looked around and was astonished at the growth of all the little saplings I had seen those many years ago.  How nice to see a tall Red Sanders, Teak trees and scrub too.  Most of us do not appreciate scrub enough - it is such a wonderful host to bird and insect life.

Companions today were the MNS Backbencher gang, with some additions - Janani whom I met for the first time and realised that she was born after I graduated, and Vidya from Stella Maris.  Srinivas it was with whom we went.  Janani, Umesh and Sagarika were the photographers with their serious equipment, Vidya was making a list, pen-on-paper, Srinivas was logging directly into his e-bird list, Kalpana was busy with flora too....and I was the one who had no agenda... no responsibility...very nice indeed.  Just binocularing and bipedding.  

Everything was still in silhouette and shadow as we started towards the quarry.

Peacock calls filled the air - they seem to have come in to the city through the lockdown, and made it home.  Janani captured this male in flight, in all its colourful glory.

There is a joy in malingering and dawdling when in a forest.  Every step brings some new delight.  Munias in large flocks sped by from east to west.  At least 200 or more, probably scaly-breasted.  The Francolins called from the scrub.   

Ashy Woodswallows swooped and dived and then went back and perched back in their characteristic huddle together, like a rugby team ready for a scrum! (Photo by Janani)

While this one seemed to be curious about the cameraperson.  (Photo by Sagarika)

Red Whiskered Bulbuls called cheerfully as I admired the different kinds of white flowers growing in the sides of the track.

Mealy bugs, whiteflies and carpenter bees, Aavaram poo, Carissa and Mallows.  Dodonea bushes reminded me of Yercaud Youreka camp.  

We even had a Spoonbill flypast.  Photo by Janani

TDEFs are filled with white flowering plants, and so it was here too.  I think this was an Ipomoea of some sort.

While this was a Carissa probably.

Lifers for me - Much excitement over a fleeting glimpse over a Forest Wagtail - which I have not seen in all these years, and that very uncommon Common Babbler.  

My fleeting glimpse of forest wagtail (Dendronanthus indicus), was all that Umesh needed to capture this beautiful image, on a leafless tree in the early morning light.  This winter visitor has eluded me all these years.  As Janani remarked, we are used to searching for wagtails on the ground, but this one is unique, a "forest" one.  And to add to that, its tail wag is also sideways supposedly.

The uncommon Common Babbler - Photo by Janani - that was spotted near one of the check dams.    

A few more pictures - here with tail seen - Photo by Sagarika - on a different branch.  I would have assumed it was a prinia, if not for Umesh's idying skills.  The white throat, and streaked brown back (and that crotchety babbler look?!) are possibly pointers.  

The common babbler (Argya caudata).  Photo by Sagarika.  The species has been moved from Laughing Thrushes (Turdoides) to Babblers.  It seems to be endemic to India.

Seed pods in black filled a shrub, 

while thorns galore protected this leafless Prosopsis cineraria, 

a Laughing Dove seemed to think the thorns of the Prosopsis were a joke,  (Photo by Sagarika)

and for these thorns, the sky was the limit. 

The quarry waters were delightfully clean.   The air was filed with birds calls - the white-browed babblers gurgled in the undergrowth, Booted Warblers and Blyth's too, a Pond Heron squawked, and  on the opposite side, a pair of Indian Robins hopped around, the reddish vent of the male flashing every now and then as it flicked its tail this way and that.

A Cormorant sat atop a bare dead tree trunk in the middle of the quarry, preening itself, in-between extreme meditation.  Photo by Umesh.

 A Common Kingfisher of absolutely brilliant blue streaked by before settling on a branch on the opposite side. The Common Kingfisher - Photo by Janani

We scanned the quarry rocks for signs of the GHO, but no luck.  The Forest Rangers said that hadn't seen them for three months now.  I hope they haven't abandoned their roost.

The forest was filled with Siris trees.  Some like this one were in flower, others were in pod.  Blue-face Malkohas were sighted in one.  

Another one seemed to have just had a dip in the quarry and was shaking the water off its feathers.  Photo by Janani

The Forest Rangers were very knowledgeable, and we enjoyed their company.  Umesh showed them pics through his camera LCD finder, and they were delighted too!  I think the best moment was the all-round delight at the Malkoha  with the ruffled, post-bath look!

The avaram bushes were like a shower of sunshine amongst the drying undergrowth.

They were all buzzing with active Carpenter bees, some with their heads looking like they were carrying a load of gold!  The (male?) bee with a load of gold,  (Photo by Janani)

..and a (female?) bee without.  (Photo by Umesh)

A Fragrant Swamp Mallow stood delicately on the side, unnoticed.

We were reluctant to leave, enjoying the Shikras in the air, the Laughing Doves and Coppersmith Barbets calling, Drongos snapping up insects on the go, and that unbelievably brilliantly coloured Green Bee-eater. Srinivas gently trying to make us get a move on - its a difficult job getting MNS sorts moving - Sekar will vouch for it.  

The Green bee-eater Photo by Janani

Now, the butterflies also began to appear, and our return was spent with Sagarika, Kalpana and Vidya trying to capture those flutterbys.  I watched them, crouch and squat, crane their necks and focus, focus.  They looked as industrious as the other creatures of the forest.  I was the indolent day dreamer, the lotus eater, rambling with my binoculars!!

Common Cerulean that is actually brown - Photo by Sagarika

Zebra Blue among the grasses - Photo by Sagarika

Srinivas completed his e-bird list on-the-go, and said 53 species at the end of the walk, as we headed home.

As we drove back through Velachery/Vijaynagar, I was also filled with other memories - of Navadisha, Montessori, yearly rain holidays, Mothi Travels, chittis. "Good old days", as my father always likes to say. 

(And I crossed 100 bird species seen this year.)

Mr Ramanan's unusual finds in our city

The Hindu : Photo op:

Orange-breasted green pigeon. Photo: Ramanan Padmanabhan

Photo op PRINCE FREDERICK Ramanan Padmanabhan studies and photographs the great horned owl at the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest. While trekking through the scrub jungle on the morning of August 31 and searching for his favourite bird, he was greeted with a rare sight. It was an orange-breasted green pigeon.

A senior member of the Madras Naturalists Society and a wildlife photographer, Ramanan identified the frugivorous bird straightaway. “The lone bird was feeding on scrub fruits and when I drew near for a clearer view through the lens, it glided into thicker greenery to avoid detection. This is a camouflage technique typical of this pigeon,” recalls Ramanan. This is the first time anyone has reported sighting an orange-breasted green pigeon at any reserve forest in and around Chennai. “This bird is found in the evergreen forests of the Western and Eastern Ghats,” says Ramanan.

It's interesting to note that two months later, the birdwatcher had another rare sighting — this time, it was a dark-sided flycatcher perched on a rain tree in his backyard. “The dark-sided flycatcher was sighted at 3.30 p.m. on November 3 on a raintree at Shastri Nagar. Despite an unrelenting downpour, the bird was busy pecking at insects and it took up different perches on the same tree. From beak to tail, the flycatcher was around 13 cm long,” says Ramanan. For two more days, he sighted the bird on the same tree and, when the skies cleared up, he snapped a few pictures of it. “The dark-sided flycatcher is a long-distance migrant: it breeds in Siberia, Mongolia and travels to the western and eastern Himalayas during winter,” says Ramanan. Commenting on both sightings — confirmed as first-of-their-kind in Chennai by the Madras Naturalists Society — naturalist V. Guruswami says: “Through sustained observation and research, we arrive at the geographical limits of birds. They may exceed these known limits, but this fact often goes unnoticed. It takes bird enthusiasts to spot these birds, when they ‘stray' off their known haunts. The dark-sided flycatcher is an arboreal bird. But for birdwatchers, who are in the habit of looking deeper into canopies, this bird is often not easily sighted. The orange-breasted green pigeon is essentially a hill bird and found in the Eastern and Western Ghats. Habitat destruction can scatter such birds and can be one of the reasons why they are seen in places other than their known homes."

The dark-sided flycatcher. Photo by Mr Ramanan

Mr Ramanan is no stranger to readers of this blog!  And so I am doubly delighted!!

Ecosystems of Madras in need of some TLC

The last week has seen two articles in the Chennai Times of India on the neglect and abuse of our city's natural spaces.

Simpson estate and the Manali lake

and

The Nanmangalam Reserve Forest

The garbage has increased in Nanmangalam

Nanmangalam reserve forest - the landmark hill within

Yesterday, we revisited Nanmangalam, with the same bunch of school kids from last week. They were armed with some tree knowledge from last week, and the idea was to take them into the forest, help them understand the web of life, the importance of a forest, and the need to make sure that these treasures are protected.

I was all brave about taking them along as I assumed that DCF, Mr Ashokan would be around, but he wasn't. Thankfully, Sheila came along or I would have been stuck with 60 kids, and one binocular, trying to show them birds as I don't know much about trees anyways! The kids were really happy to be on the walk and enthusiastic, and the teachers too. so we meandered along the fringes of the forest I think, because the vegetation was sparse.

Its been more than a year, I reflected since I visited Nanmangalam. I remembered crossing this large maidan on the way to the bubo bubo quarry. But instead of heading to the quarry, we walked towards a temple, led by the helpers at the extension centre.

We saw too much eucalyptus for our liking and explained why it's not such a good idea to have too much of this fast growing tree. We also saw another colourful weed - lantana - in plenty. As we crossed the maidan, there was a movement in the bushes and a snake came slithering across the open ground, with a bunch of crows circling its head. The reason for the crow's interest was a fat frog caught in the mouth of the snake! I have never seen a snake slither on the ground with it's head held aloft like this, and it moved purposefully into the next clump of bushes and vanished from sight. It had the markings of a rat snake, Sara pambu. That was excitement enough for the group!

We saw drongoes, bulbuls, sunbirds, doves, and could we have seen a black-headed munia? I thought there was a whole bunch of them. White browed bulbuls called agitatedly from the trees, but I didn't see one. A lapwing flew across, calling in al,arm at this bunch of people descending on the forest.

I was saddened to see the increase of litter in the forest, as we walked on to the quarry. There are obviously favourite spots, where groups sit, marked by plastic water bags, cigarette packs and pan parag sachets. Empty PET bottles too. I spied a large bag among the bushes, and picked it up, and we rallied e kids into picking up any litter that we could easily remove. The children were most cooperative, and we had to prevent them from putting their hands too deep into the bushes as they spied a sachets pack glinting among the greenery.

I hope our sermon on not throwing litter, improving our civic sense and reducing the use of plastic, had some influence.

At the quarry, more pain. The water's surface was filled with thermocol. I had not seen this earlier. What is the forest department doing to clear this? I was appalled.

I plan to send these photos to the Assistant Conservator of Forests, Chennai.
The quarry - filled with rain water, but look at the floating thermocol

Maybe we (Nizhal), along with tree sensitizing can get the visiting children to make boards in English and Tamil requesting people not to litter.

I wonder if it would help if there were dustbins, with lids, in the park area. Maybe some "trails" could be laid out, with some interesting facts on trees?
Clcik on the pcture, and you will see that the white floating substance at the far end on the water is more thermocol

The bags of garbage we cleared in one hour...there is much more.

A weekend with trees

17th July 2010:

Off to Nanmangalam extension centre as a Nizhal volunteer. Its been cloudy and rainy in general, but of course on 17th July its blazing hot.

The plan is to take a bunch of 60(!) high school kids around the extension centre, talk to them about trees and their importance, introduce them to native species (as against our familiar exotics like Rain Tree and Gulmohar), and hope to sensitise future citizens against indiscriminate tree cutting and to promote wise tree planting as well.

Usha takes her car, and we trundle along past Pallikaranai and Quaidemillat college, and hear blaring music from a temple loudspeaker. Its supposed to be devotional, but how anyone could feel devotional under this auditory assault is beyond me. Maybe its me that is so lacking in faith?

Anyway, if you think I am digressing I am not. Deepika said that as soon as we hear the music we were to do a U-turn and we would arrive at the extension centre gates! It was a very accurate landmark that no GPS system could have given!

Mr Ashokan the DCF turned out to be enthusiastic and committed, and so the walk was a breeze. The kids arrived with no caps and large heavy bags (should remedy this for the next school visit), but were attentive and interested.

The Extension Centre abuts the road, and there is active tree planting of indigenous species going on here. There were two views on the setting up of this centre but it seems to be here to stay.

The trees below are those planted in the extension area. Interestingly, all these native trees are high on medicinal properties. Its imperative that we research them and obtain patents.

Terminalia arjuna - fruiting

Called Neer marudhu in Tamil, the Arjun tree grows all over India, and is widely used in ayurveda for a whole host of cures. The bark and leaves seem to be helful in treating heart conditions. Morinda citrifolia-Nuna

Another wonder tree is nuna. The fruit you see is used to make juice that is rich in vitamins and minerals.

Alstonia scholaris - Indian Devil tree/scholars tree!

I stared idly at this tree. Not particularly distinguished, but it has these opposing names - Devil's tree on the one hand, and scholar's tree on the other. So our all scholars devils or are all devils scholars?!

For some reason, tribals in the Western Ghats reportedly dont like to sit under this tree as the devil is believed to live in it. Its bark is used to treat loosies, and its wood was traditionally used to make blackboards - hence the scholaris title. Callophyllum inophyllum - Alexandrian Laurel - punnai

A coastal tree, very decorative, and Usha says they are lining the streets in Pondy. I should check next time we go there. And guess what, that fruit you see is quite magical. An oil extracted from its nut is used in anti-ageing creams, and is also a viable biodiesel!!

We saw herbs that help in dandruff control, Vitex negundo (nochi) that is like a backyard mosquito control plant, sandalwood saplings, Indian rosewood and mahogany and so much more.

Next week we go back for a nature walk through the RF, with the same kids.

July 18th:

6:45 am, nagging drizzle, overcast skies. This could have been yesterday's weather, but no, I want sun I get rain, and vice versa! And why did I want sun? So the butterflies would be out, and the birds would be chirping as we took the young children of the Madras Club on a little walk around the club.

Sudhakar and Minni kindly agreed to come in as the experts, and we did stroll around the club grounds, heartened by the enthusiasm of the children. Thankfully trees stay where they are, and so we used them as the anchors for our walk!

The lovely banyan, the spreading rain trees, fish-tail palms, the massive neem on the lawns and the plentiful copper pods provided talking points.

As did this Gastropod.

The huge snail that caught all the oohs and aahs

Check out the muscular foot that the snail uses to move along, by its contractions. 1mm/second average snail speed.

Isn't that a beautiful glistening shell?

Commelina - day flowers

Sudhakar pointed out the day flowers in the green lawns underfoot. Click on the picture and see the flower zoomed in, its rather lovely, delicate and intricate, all for a day.

But this tree below was unidentified Tree unknown (Identified as Mimusops elengi - Magizham)Plumeria obtusa - Singapore frangipani

The flowers of this plumeria are different from the common one, rather more elegant I thought.

And so we wound up, after more earthworms, cotton stainer bugs, seven spotted cockroaches, millipedes, centipedes and a red bead tree.

We were rewarded by a sumptuous breakfast that included "mla pesarattu" - also a first time for me!!

The miseries of being an Owl

This last month, I learnt something, which I wish I had not.  Or rather, I wish was not true.

It all started with an excited email from one of the MNS members sharing a photo of the owl at Nanmangalam, and how there were two new chicks.  Oh wow, I thought, thats so good, to know they are progressing nicely in our very own reserve forest.

However,  there was a flurry of cautionary emails from more experienced members and they painted a rather ominous and gloomy picture.  

Here's a gist of the quotes:-

On photographing of nesting Great Horned Owls in Nanmangalam RF: As naturalists I am sure you all would take care not to disturb the breeding birds. But we should also be aware that the people who use this RF for various purposes are also watching us. When they watch us photographing they would know the breeding birds’ location. Out of curiosity or for several other reasons they do go near the nest / disturb or injure the adult bird or the chicks…

Too much publicity could have adverse and unfortunate consequences. In the interest of the birds one should practice restraint both in photography and observation.

Isn't it better that we visit the place more often and more frequently, so that the RF becomes too "public" and too "visible" for anti-social elements? If we stay away, then we are allowing these anti-socials to "rule" the place.

…a greater presence of concerned (and genuine) birdwatchers could well be healthy for the place and the birds because this will eventually edge out the poachers and other elements. What is desirable here is the declaration of this area into a sanctuary (not just a Reserve which it already is. What is probably a better solution is what I have heard is already in the wind -- the creation of an eco-park at the site. An eco-park scores over a sanctuary in that it is easier to implement because it is public-friendly, something that appeals to any government, and at the same time affords full protection to the resident wildlife. A look at the Poonga will confirm this.

I agree with the note of caution expressed. There is illegal trade in owls in the country. A picture of the nest and details of its location are an open invitation to poachers. Moreover, any nest photography is now discouraged. If you see a nest, just look at it, be thankful that the birds are breeding and move away quietly.

I was really shocked at that last comment.  Why would anyone covet an owl?  And then this article was posted....

Sad, Wise Eyes

By Shruti Ravindran

Outlook Magazine

Why owls are the target of poachers and trappers:

• Used for tantrik rites and occult practices
  
• Are believed to bring riches, as Lakshmi, Goddess of Wealth, rides on one
  
• In South India, owls’ hoots are thought to predict fate – one signifying imminent death, two, imminent success, three, a marriage, etc.
  
• Tantriks and rural medicine men prescribe: owl-eye broth for night-vision, owl claws as good luck charms, owl feathers to repel evil spirits, owl meat as aphrodisiac, owl torture for directions to hidden treasure.
  

Price they fetch: from Rs 5,000 up to Rs 8 lakh for Barn Owl or Great Horned Owl

Threatened species: Barn Owl, Eastern Grass Owl, Collared Scops Owl, Great Horned Owl (Eurasian Eagle Owl), Brown Fish Owl, Spotted Owlet, Jungle Owlet, Asian Barred Owlet

Most in demand: in Gujarat, Maharashtra, UP, MP, Orissa, West Bengal

Demon birds. Death-portending banshees. Soul-eaters. Owls attract foreboding and superstitious epithets as naturally and irresistibly as pandas attract fond baby-talk and tigers attract awestruck poetry. Their nocturnal nature, their devil-like horns, their sudden screeching from ancient tree-hollows in cemeteries, or the unnerving way they twist their heads around to fix you in a piercing, lidless stare -- all of these traits have long earned them spooky pride of place, along with the bat, in fearful folk tales and horror films. Now, they’re also earning them death sentences, thanks to tantriks and medicine men, who use them in black magic rituals and ‘miracle-cures’ for their gullible clientele.

Abrar Ahmed, consultant with Traffic, a body which monitors wildlife trade, has been tracking the owl trade for the past three years – more than a decade after he first stumbled on it while researching a countrywide report on the illegal bird trade. His research has taken him to desolate trappers’ houses along the tribal belt to village markets spanning all of north India, and the bird bazaars of bigger cities like Lucknow and Delhi. "There are 29 species of owls in India," says Ahmed. "Of these, half are used for some nefarious purpose or the other."

The most common purpose is witchcraft. As the vehicle of Goddess Lakshmi, the owl is associated with wealth. So, those hoping to strike it rich with the help of an occult boost visit tantriks around the festive season of Diwali and Durga Puja. The tantriks then conduct owl-sacrifices, anoint their customers with sacrificial owl blood and give them an owl-claw; guaranteed, they say, to act as a lightning rod for a massive fortune. This sounds like a gruesome, senseless activity, but it’s one that even educated, city-dwelling denizens of Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Delhi and Calcutta indulge in.

Industrialists, particularly in these bleak recession times, willingly fork out up to 8 lakh for a gold-and-grey Barn Owl or a Great Horned Owl (Eurasian Eagle Owl). Since these species are hard to find, trappers and middlemen often try to disguise the poor little Spotted Owlet as a juvenile Horned Owl by fashioning ear-tufts out of pasted feathers, and staining its eyes with toxic orange-coloured ink.

Village haats and small-town markets abound in luridly illustrated black magic booklets that advocate owl-bone amulets as charms, owl-eye broth for improving night-vision, owl-meat for rheumatism, seizures, and as an aphrodisiac. "We’ve come across some stomach-turning recipes," says Samir Sinha, Head of Traffic, "Concoctions with owls’ ear-tufts, brains and eyes, to hypnotise someone and make them a slave for life." Some booklets also recommend that owls – when tortured or starved – will be persuaded to reveal, in a human voice, the locations of hidden treasure.

As Sinha ruefully observes, "There’s no end to human stupidity or faith, and there’s a thin line between the two!"
Bird-baiting is another market force that drives the owl-trade, though to a significantly smaller extent.

Owls – particularly the Spotted Owlet and Jungle Owlet – serve as decoys for bird trappers trying to catch bulbuls and sunbirds for the pet trade. Trappers use the owlets as conspicuous bait, and have cruel means of keeping them stationary, such as stitching their eyes closed and forcefeeding them enormous quantities of mice so that they become sluggish . Owls are also used in street performances, ‘blessing’ amulets for onlookers to purchase. Some adivasi folk, such as the Bahelias and Chirimars of Central India, even eat the white-faced Grass Owl for the stringy, meagre sustenance it offers them.

Word of the growing demand for owls and the astronomical prices they can fetch has made its way down south. Trappers are descending into forests and grasslands, and coming out with sackfuls of Great Horned Owls, Barn Owls and Scops Owls. These are among the six species of owls that are being trafficked to the north, according to recent reports from Kerala. Trappers have set to work in Chennai too. Recently, a group of naturalists dismantled traps around nesting sites of the Great Horned Owl in a rocky outcrop in the outskirts of the city.

While the scale of the owl-trade may be negligible compared to the trade in popular ‘ornamental’ parakeets or munias, the immediate ecological impact is far graver. As predators, owls are highly effective pest-control agents. A single Horned Owl snacks on at least three large, plump rats per day.So, when the owl population decreases, the rodent population increases exponentially, laying waste to crops. That’s why forest officials in Kerala have noticed an increasingly flourishing rodent population in the state. Farmers in Tamil Nadu and Kerala have taken to putting up attractive perches to lure owls to dine on the pests ravaging their fields.

In South Indian cities, however, owls are not made to feel quite as welcome, mostly due to prevalent superstitious beliefs, such as one that holds that a single owl hoot is an omen of imminent death. Says Chennai-based naturalist Anantanarayan Rajaram: "Tenants who share my flat complex want strong lights to be installed on the roof to ward off the Barn Owls that seek shelter there, because they consider all owls to be harbingers of evil." Kerala city dwellers tend to be equally hostile, he adds. "There, the Brown Wood Owl is held in fear for its call: ‘powwa powwa’, which means "Going, going", and signifies that a person around the area will die soon."

Sadly, at the rate at which owls are getting decimated, the next dolorous ‘to-whoot’ you hear may well be signalling its own end.

Do see the original article, there are some pitiful pictures of owls trapped, with ink-stained eyes, and God knows what else.

In this case, my ignorance was bliss, I think.

The great horned owl at Nanmangalam

My first encounter with the Great Horned Owl, GHO or Bubo bubo was not so long ago at Nanmangalam.

Mr Ramanan, a veteran of many a GHO encounter, was there again recently, and captured this magnificent picture above.  These large birds are quite something else.   They breed post-monsoon, so maybe another set of chicks we shall soon see?  We had seen some chicks during the bird race, earlier this year.  Quite grown they were by then.  Read about it here.  

Recounting an interesting story, Mr Ramanan narrated how, in the early days there were no roads around Nanmangalam, and the Velachery roads were all full of potholes, and in some places a mud track as well.  The Nanmangalam scrub was not that thick either, and the planted eucalytus was also still young.

Not familiar with the ways of the Bubo bubo, learning was by experience, which included getting his ear clipped by this large owl!  Using the help of a shepherd boy, Mr Ramanan would scramble up to the nest of the GHO, to check and record the growth of the chicks.  

While inspecting the nest for recording the growth of the chick, the adult GHO clipped my ear! From that day onwards I used to wear a helmet whenever I approached the nest!  May be my regular presence and the fact that I was not a threat to the chick, the adult bird became some what friendly.  When ever I was alone or with MNS members or with lot of birds enthusiasts from abroad, the bird immediately with loud calls of "bubo bubo" approached us."

The adult that clipped his ear!

Through his numerous visits, he has seen the "broken wing" and the threat displays of the GHO.  Hopefully, one day I will see this fascinating behaviour.

What the owl does when it feels that its nest is under threat is that it lands on the ground some distance from the threat, acts as if its wing is broken and scurries along the ground, leading the threat away from the nest.  When it feels that the prey/stranger is far enough away from the nest, it takes off and flies back to the nest.

Amazing isnt it!

A broken wing display

Then there is the "threat" display, where the GHO would call its mate and then the two birds would puff their feathers out spread their wings, and look as menacing as possible, making threatening sounds, and swaying back and forth on their legs.

The threat display

Mr Ramanan recalls that he has seen three consecutive broods of the same pair of GHOs, over the span of a few years, and once also saw two pairs breeding together!

I sincerely hope the GHOs continue to survive and thrive in the Nanmangalam quarries.

Another one is initiated...

... in to the pleasures of birding in Madras.

Vaishna Roy visited the Guindy National Park, Nanmangalam
and Pallikaranai.

Read her report below:

Outlooktraveller.com

Not much luck for the Bubo bubo team - The Chennai Bird Race

5:45 am Sunday morning, Feb 3rd 2008, and the three of us, and our neighbour Sheila set off on our quest to see how many types of birds we would see through the day. We had signed up as the Bubo Bubo team, to take part in the first ever Chennai Bird Race.

Rules were simple - we had to stick together, tick off the birds we spotted in a checklist, and return by 6-30 in the evening. Lateness would invite disqualification, we were told.

So off we went, with my husband being driver for the day, and with my son providing comic relief, and with Sheila and me the supposed birders of the team. (More like the blind leading the blind it was!)

Chembarambakkam lake was our first halt. This huge lake provides the city of Madras with our water, and though I have it seen it from the highway on our several roadtrips to Bangalore, I have not actually stopped and had a dekko. Sheila having been there last month gave us directions. "Turn in at Enterprising Enterprises". So, if any of you want to go the bund, that's the directions for you!

The lake bund road is really enjoyable and a good picnic spot. There were a bunch of morning walkers, some fisherfolk, washerwomen and some curious bystanders wondering what this odd bunch of green-capped (we had caps courtesy HSBC, which announced "Chennai Bird Race" on them) and binocular-toting people were up to!

The sun was just rising and the light was poor, but the Eurasian Wigeon ducks were identified. I had not seen these ducks before, and was fascinated with the little yellow "namam" of the males.

Then of course was frustrating moment #1 - what was that duck with the white beak? And that one with the red patch? All of us scoured through the duck pages of Salim Ali and Inskipp, but no there was no such bird. Back and forth we went to the book and to our binoculars. But identify it we could not. Out of sheer disgust we gave up, decided to have our sandwiches, and thought gloomily how our identification was starting off on a bad note.

Then was Eureka moment #1! No, its not a duck, but its on the Rails and Sandgrouses page - the white-beaked fellow is a common coot, and the red-patched one is the common moorhen! We all felt rather sheepish, but also elated that we could add some more ticks!

Further up the bund, and after many roller birds, kingfishers, beeeaters, drongoes and treepies and mynahs, we reached a road that forked, with the left fork leading away from the bund. OK, lets try the short-cut back through Kunrathur we decided. The well-topped surface flattered to deceive as we were soon in a mud road that had these huge craters and menacing looking jagged stones all over. The only saving grace was there was no traffic and we could wind our way at will.

Thankfully, this did not last long, and we reached the narrow concreted lanes of Kunrathur, where a gent in a tea shop gave us helpful directions. "Sir, ange rightu ponga (pointing with his left hand), konju doora pona, left cutting varum (now pointing right), adidha main road pallavaram. Now do we follow his hand directions or his verbal?! As we wended our way past cattle and goat and the occasional cyclist having a chat in the middle of the road, we came across Tulakan Street, and if we were in any doubt as to what that meant, it was translated as Muslim Street as well!

Two monstrous L&T cement mixers swerved in from a side road, and then we thankfully stuck to their tail as they cleared the way for us all the way to the Grand Southern Trunk Road near Pallavaram. Past Chrompet, and we see see this huge spaghetti loop-like overbridge. I wonder that people use it, it all looked rather confusing!

Left at the Tambaram station, and on to the Tambaram-Velachery road. We see a family of four on the right-hand side of a median, attempting to ride their two-wheeler across it, to the left-side. I was wonderstruck - they actually managed it!

Nanmangalam: 10 am, on the second stop of our day long bird-spotting race. We stopped off on the Medavakkam high road - its closer to the quarry and its famous resident.

Who is its famous resident you ask? No, no, not Rajni or Aishwarya or Stalin. If you are still in the dark, it means you have not read my earlier entry, Rendezvous with Bubo Bubo. it may be good to do so before reading this!

"Are we having breakfast here?", asked my son hopefully. You see he had come armed with some juice and chocolate milk and sandwiches, but we were not stopping anywhere long enough for him to have it! So, yes the quarry was chosen as the picnic spot for breakfast.

No “landmines” this time, but instead, as soon as we entered this time, we found these mounds of burnt feathers and hair – it was pretty creepy, like some mass murderer had been at work. And a rather unpleasant smell as well. We hurried along, to get away from there as quickly as we could.

First you have a few hundred metres of sparse vegetation, close to a maidan, where you will always find a cricket match in progress. As you walk a bit further, you reach a eaucalyptus grove, which is a noisy zone – filled with bird chatter. On this visit however, a huge flock of mynahs seems to have chased every other bird away, much to our despair, until we heard the lovely call of the red-vented bulbul, and then saw the proud crest of its red-whiskered cousin. Another unidentifiable bird on a tree top, and we proceeded to the quarry.

As we rounded a corner, familiar voices approached and some more green caps led by Chitra appeared. They had finished and were on their way to the next spot. “Two Bubo bubo chicks, as well’” Chitra announced, and then we zipped along, not stopping to look for any other birds. Just as we reached the quarry, there was huge shadow that flitted across in front of us, and as we looked up it was (Mrs?) Bubo bubo herself, flying in the air, and landing on a nearby tree to watch us. What a magnificent sight, and a handsome bird! A hint of cruelty perhaps, in those yellow eyes?

Where were her chicks? We scanned the face of the quarry, and some slight movement caught my eye, and there they were – 2 brown faces, huddled against each other, precariously balanced on a ledge. Did they know to fly? What if they slipped off that edge? Or even fought with each other, like most siblings do?! They were not tiny, like other chicks, at least fifteen inches, from what I could see, but they still looked small compared to their mother. The two exhibited different personalities, and reminded me of my niece and nephew. While one was ever alert, (the one on the left) suspicious and keen to the least sound, the other one had an "oh whatever" attitude and continued to sleep through all the noise we made! See for yourselves.

The quarry itself was full of water, and the green reeds provided camouflage for one little bird/duck, which kept appearing and disappearing. What was it? Try as hard as we could we could not get a good sighting. A red neck, I think, muttered my husband as he caught a fleeting glance through his binoculars, and in a flash it was gone. Not very good are we? Anyway, at the end of the day we were kindly informed by our fellow birders that that was a Little Grebe, or dabchick. Now of course, to confuse beginners like us, this fellow has to show up with the cormorants and darters, and not with the ducks!

My son by now had opened up his goody bag and was busy chowing away, when another team of bird racers came by, and we showed them (very proudly), the juvenile owls on the ledge.

There were sunbirds a plenty, with their purple plumage catching the sunlight, as they streaked across, from bush to bush. As we returned, we saw a shikra above us, but when we looked through our binoculars, we saw that it was being bothered by a group of flying insects – bees probably? – buzzing around its face!

Back past the feather mounds and into the car, to stopover at Pallikaranai.

Pallikaranai - 1:00 pm, - going back home for lunch. (This in itself would cause all the seasoned birders to raise their eyebrows - you mean you actually took a break?) En route, we keep our eyes open as the Pallikaranai marsh is on our right. Huge mounds of mud block our view, then in a gap, we see literally thousands of birds! Stop the car!

Out we scramble, my husband and son decide to sit in the car, and so I dont have a camera to catch my bird of the day. Something I was seeing for the first time - a Purple Heron. I stood fascinated watching it move in its slow, deliberate fashion as it trod across the marsh, and posed so that I could see its "kudmi" and aquiline profile!

As Sheila tried to decipher whether some of the other birds were sandpipers or a pipits, this heron kept me rather distracted! Swifts swooped in hundreds over the water's surface, egrets - small, medium and large stared meditatively into the water and hundreds of black-winged stilts hopped around. Every time they pulled their red legs out of the marsh, they appeared black with mud, and at one point I was wondering whether these black-legged birds was another species!

On the electric pylons in the distance, were these large birds- pelicans and storks.

Despite the garbage being dumped and burned in the marsh, despite the land reclamation and high level of construction activity, despite the heavy traffic on the road, these birds continue to consider Pallikaranai their home. But for how long? Will the government declaration of the marsh as a protected land, make a positive difference from now on? Hats off to all the dedicated naturalists, citizens and environmentalists who worked doggedly, to make this happen.

Though I was elated with my purple heron, we were also very depressed at the state of the marsh. Further depression was to follow in the evening, but that's another story.

The mouth of the Adyar, 4:00pm,: After a snooze and a refreshing cup of tea, we set out again, though not far - to the mouth of the Adyar river, next to the TS(Theosophical Society). I had hoped that during our break in Thiruvanmyur, I would spot the hoopoe or the barbet or the tailorbird, which unfailingly comes to the tree outside our window. Ofcourse it didnt. Murphy's Law. Even the rock pigeons were strangely silent!

We walked through the Urur Olcott Kuppam, where residents were relaxing on the streets on a Sunday afternoon. One group of women eyed us with curiosity, and one called out to me in Tamil, asking for the time. When I answered her in Tamil, she was most disappointed, and muttered to her friends, "ivingu thamizh pesurangu"! Maybe we looked like some exotic species of humans from far north - migratory birds - as far as they were concerned.

Anyway, it was a longish walk to the rivermouth, as we skirted the walls of the TS, past the turtle hatchery enclosure, past groups of cricket playing youth, until we reached the old, broken down remnants of the original bridge. Empty bottles, garbage, plastic bags and other such urban waste greeted our eyes, but couldn't take away from the beauty of the river meeting the sea, the cool breeze, vast expanse and the birds.


But they - the birds I mean - were so far away! How in the world were we beginners to identify them? They all looked feathered, and brown and small! The ones we could identify were the large egrets, and the jungle crow! After a while we gave up. They could have been plovers or godwits, or sandpipers, we could not make out. We started on our return, deciding to stop by at Madras Club and Adyar Poonga if time permits. Once again as we trooped through the village, the ladies' group ha d alot to say among themselves. Maybe they had gone to see turtles, anyway they know tamil, from here only, what a big camera that man has, were some of the comments that we invited!

The club is a sure shot for rose-ringed parakeets, but that day they outdid themseves, they were all over, screeching and swooping, and looking down at us from the trees. I have seen woodpeckers and a spotted owlet in the trees, but no luck that day. Neither were the stints or godwits in the water. Grumbling about our poor luck, we got into the car, and realised it was too late to go to the Poonga. (As it turned out, I believe it was full of birds!)

6:15 pm - Reached the hotel. Last minute filling in of our names and tallying the birds we saw. A grand total of 43. We were rather pleased with ourselves, until we realised that the average a team saw was around 80! And to put it further in perspective, the winning team saw 120!!

After waiting endlessly (or so it seemed) for our chief guest to appear, the formalities were got through, and we all had a sumptous dinner, exchanged our stories, and vowed to do better next year!

The other MNS members had seen two birds rarely spotted - the Peregrine Falcon, and the Indian courser.

And so ended our bird race. Hopefully, next time around, our combined spotting and identifying skills have improved!