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.

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.

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

Lockdown diaries - I wandered today with Wordsworth for company

31st March 2020

A new rhythm in my days

falling into Lockdown stride

Chores reined in and under control

its time to move those legs.

It's an introverts' dream

No need to stop and say hello

Just nod, smile and walk on

after all, we must keep our distance.

Purslane beds caught my eye today, and my mind wandered to meadows and hills
and Wordsworthian daffodils.

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze, not the daffodils, but these grasses,
tossing their heads definitely in glee.

One cannot "but be gay, in such jocund company, I gazed and gazed, but little thought, what wealth the show to me had bought"

My heart did with pleasure fill, seeing these pinks, never still 

h

...and then to top it all, I saw these browns...
oh my! Do the residents know?

Lockdown diaries - Plumeria pinwheels

March 30th 2020

Plumerias galore

Punctuate my morning walks,

splashes of sunshine

Nodding repeatedly at me.

Old and fond friends,
already,

...cannot be ignored, 

inveigling me to check out the pinwheels, ruby red

or softly pink,
there's no locking them down, as I go back up

to my 12th floor safe haven.
And the balcony Oleanders, gazing down,
social distancing
until we meet again.  Tomorrow?

Moon rising

Full Moon

The moon glows the same:
  it is the drifting cloud forms
  make it seem to change.

- Matsuo Basho

The next day - silver in the sky, shimmering silver below.

Why Chennai needs a tree act

How the Tree Act helped states

Seeing how a few other Indian cities have benefited from a Tree Act that is in place in their respective states, here is the inevitable question: Why is Chennai being denied this green gift?

Liffy Thomas

If the ‘Garden City’ is holding out against urbanisation and staying green, a good amount of the credit has to go to the Karnataka Preservation of Trees Act, 1976.
The Act has given enough power to environment groups and residents to question authorities when trees are chopped indiscriminately to further development work or when they receive little care from the hands meant to serve them.
Delhi and Maharashtra are other states that have a tree conservation act.
For some years now, in Chennai, environment groups have been rallying for a law related to all aspects of tree nurture, from planting to maintaining them.
For instance, around two years ago, voluntary organisation Nizhal drafted a notification that it sent to the State Government.
So, how has the Act helped these states?
Harini Nagendra, professor of sustainability, Azim Premji University, Bengaluru, says an Act is the first step towards caring for trees, followed by public awareness and implementation.
“We don’t have data to show how many trees were saved due to an Act but it has certainly helped prevent indiscriminate felling of trees and raised awareness about the need to exercise caution before cutting trees,” says Harini.
She says pressure from citizens’ groups and intervention from the Court have pushed government to implement rules.
Recently, following a petition from Bengaluru Environment Trust, the Karnataka High Court asked the chairman of the “Tree Authority” — a statutory body formed after the promulgation of the Act and one that comprises representatives from the government and citizens’ groups — to start a tree census.
Through realistic data, it is possible to keep tabs on felling of trees.
“It will also provide data on concerns such as what to plant, species that will thrive in the city and changing conditions that may cause some trees to fall,” says Harini.
Vijay Nishanth, known as ‘Tree Doctor’, says the avenue tree that one sees on Bengaluru’s arterial roads are still standing tall, because there have been rules to safeguard them. He cites the example of the Bengaluru Steel flyover project, where more than 2,000 trees were going to be cut to facilitate the work.
“We counted trees on the stretch and made the authorities hold a public consultation to save the trees,” says Nishanth.
As of today, the project is on hold.
Nishanth says due to the intervention of various residents’ groups, at least 500 trees that had to be cut for development projects were transplanted in the last two years.
The ‘Tree Authority Department’ in the Pune Municipal Corporation has announced that it would conduct a geo-enabled tree census survey and plot the same on the city map.
The aim of the project is to provide information about “layout of different varieties/specifies, distribution under different wards”, says a note on the website.
Axing a tree is not easy in Delhi too because of the Delhi Preservation of Trees Act, 1994.
Padmavati Dwivedi, a Delhi-based activist, says there are rules in the Act that enable people who have great knowledge about trees and tree preservation and who have contributed towards protection of trees to function as co-opted members who can provide suggestions on matters relating to trees and their protection.
She adds, “In Delhi, for the last few years we had not have any citizen representation and we are fighting for that.”

Sunshine on the wall

Catopsilia pomona, the common emigrant or lemon emigrant - resting on my wall

Come, rest for a while,
scraps of sunshine
flitting across my view.

At the traffic light, I watch

your crazy parabolas

two by two.

Have the rains signalled
your departure?
Are you leaving for the hills?
Emigrant  that you are
Thanks for stopping by.

Rain catcher: on Jacobin Cuckoo - The Hindu

An interesting article about the Jacobin cuckoo, with pictures from Sagarika's sightings this April 2019, around Perumbakkam, part of the larger Pallikaranai marsh area.

Rain catcher: on Jacobin Cuckoo - The Hindu

The Jacobin Cuckoo heralds the monsoon in north India

Abhishek Gulshan

The Jacobin Cuckoo is one lucky bird indeed. At least according to Indian myth. Also known as the Pied Cuckoo or Chatak, this bird heralds the onset of the monsoon in India.

Being an agricultural economy the rainy season is considered one of the most auspicious seasons in the country. And so, the Pied Cuckoo in North and Central India is a welcome sight.

It is a bird with black and white plumage (pied) with a fancy crest on the head. Its scientific name is Clamator jacobinus. The genus ‘Clamator’ literally translates to being a shouter, a bird which is quite vocal, so you’ll hear yourself surrounded by the calls close to the monsoon. The word ‘jacobinus’ relates to pied birds.

Pictures are from Sagarika's sighting in Chennai

There are two populations of the Pied Cuckoo in India. One is a resident in the southern part of the country. The other, according to tracking by birders, makes its way to North and Central India from Africa by crossing the Arabian Sea, along with the monsoon winds. When the monsoon arrives in all its majesty, its sighting also spreads widely.

So this is a resident?  I didn't know that.

The bird is primarily arboreal, which means that it mostly lives on trees but often forages for food in low bushes, and sometimes even on the ground. Considering its arboreal nature, it prefers forests, well-wooded areas and also bushes in semi-arid regions. These birds are primarily insectivores and feed on grasshoppers, beetles and are also often seen feeding on fruits and berries from trees.


The species, like all cuckoos, is a brood parasite. It lays its eggs in nests that belong to other birds, preferring similar-sized birds like babblers and bulbuls, as their ‘hosts’. The hosts are often distracted by male cuckoos, and the females quickly lay their similar-sized and coloured eggs into the hosts’ nests. The hosts then take care of the eggs and the chicks that hatch from them, as their own. The parasitic chicks are fed by the hosts and then leave the host parents once they are ready to be on their own.

A few years ago, birdwatchers set out to test the truth behind whether the bird does signal the coming of the monsoon. We began a monitoring process, collecting data around bird sightings, and other habits. This is being documented online on ebird.org, an Ivy-League initiative for birdwatchers all around the world.

A large number of birdwatchers reported the sighting of the Pied Cuckoo on the online documentation forum, and when these dates of sightings were compared to the monsoon's arrival, as available with the Indian Meteorological Department, the results were fairly clear. Pied Cuckoos did indeed arrive before the monsoon in most parts of central and northern India. In a few areas, it was also observed that wherever the monsoon was to arrive earlier than usual, the Pied Cuckoo also showed up a few days earlier. So the Chatak is not an old wives’ tale anymore.

To join a trail in Mangar, Haryana this Sunday and spot the Jacobin Cuckoo, email ninox.edu@ gmail.com

The writer is the founder of NINOX - Owl about Nature, a nature-awareness initiative. He formerly led a programme at WWF India as a naturalist, and is the Delhi-NCR reviewer for Ebird, a Cornell University initiative, monitoring rare sightings of birds in the region

B for Bougainvillea

Oh yes, learn that spelling!

All over my city, as the sun blazes, Bougainvillea are running riot, scrambling up trees, and filling the skies with colour - orange, pink and white.  Their joy is tumbling over the city's walls, cascading down from terraces, making the dreariest of buildings look bright and pretty.

My favourite used to be the ones lining the walls of the Olcott school on Besant Avenue, and they were a traffic-stopping riot, quite literally.  Motorists would stop to take pictures and selfies.

Neighbouring Pondy is even better.  All through the French Quarter, the yellow walls, blue doors and pink bougainvillea make for great compositions.

An Ikebana composition in nature - brown lines and masses of pink

Through a large portion of the year, we don't give them a second look - thorny vines, with regular small heart-shaped leaves, with a few flowers here and there.  Come summer however and they thrive like no other.

They actually need good sunshine and very little water!  No wonder they do well in our summers, even though they have come from south America.

.

And all those pretty colours are actually modified leaves - bracts.  Those little whites are the flowers, and trios of them are usually surrounded by these papery, colourful bracts.

In the right foreground are the buds before they open into those pretty flowers.

Let me see what unusual colours I spot this summer.

The snipes of Karapakkam

20th April 2019

I make life difficult for myself.  I have to go and see those snipes, but I cannot take the car all by myself, so I need to find company to justify those carbons in the air, and I am finding low cooperation from the family, and so it has meant that despite Sagarika's constant nagging, bribing (with those lovely pictures), and whining, I did not go to see them.  (She claims she was after me since February, but she loves to be technical and specific about these matters.)

After extracting a promise that I will not malinger or wander or get  a heatstroke, (I am known to do all three), my husband decided to be the other warm body as we set off to see the Snipes of Karapakkam.

In the process we saw the relentless march of construction in the Pallikaranai marsh, as we followed instructions into some interior roads where every few plots were empty and marshy and supporting swamp hens, pond herons and warblers and sunbirds, while multi-storeyed buildings and debris filled more and more of the wetland.

We parked in one of the lanes and walked around stopping at each marshy plot.  Flashes of purple as swamp hens fluttered from one plot to the other.  A watercock walked into the reeds as did a bittern.  A plain prinia flitted among the reeds, calling sharply as it swayed precariously on the slim blade.  A purple-rumped sunbird flashed across heading for the wildflowers that were growing in the edges.

But no snipe did we spot.  We reached the end of the road, and suddenly it was all marsh ahead.  We seemed to have reached the existing boundary of construction,  a road running south-north along the edge.  At the far end, we saw a gaggle of photographers and binocular-wielding humans and we knew that must be where the snipes are!  We hurried across and there they were, several of them, staring balefully and not doing very much.  The Greater Painted Snipes.  My first time.

GK was there and filled me in on some rather interesting aspects.  The female is well marked, brightly coloured and polyandrous.  She does the courting, and once the eggs are laid, it is the male that sits and takes care of the nest and brood while she goes out and forages!  As a result the male is dull coloured. Opposite of the usual rule of brightly coloured males.

This was my first sighting of the Snipes.  We also saw Common Snipes.  Supposedly the Painted Snipes are not "real" snipes", Common Snipes are.  The common snipe (Gallinago gallinago) does not have the role reversal of the Painted ones, and they are also more shy it appears.  They had a long straight bill and a mottled appearance.

Here are the pictures from Sagarika's visit - we did not have a camera.

 The Greater painted-snipe (Rostratula benghalensis) male, which is a duller brown and has that white breast band

The spectacular colourings of the female.  The eye patch looks like the letter P, doesn't it?

Sagarika pointed me to another interesting aspect of this bird.  It is the origin for the word "sniper".  According to Wikipedia, soldiers of British India used "to snipe", which meant they would go and hunt and shoot these plump rather slow-moving birds.  And these "sportsmen" (whats so sporting about it beats me completely), were referred to as snipers.

The Chennai sun was out by now, and the crowd of birdwatchers thinned, and we left too, not before seeing the aerial antics of some green beeeaters.

Chennai summer colours

Bougainvillae "tree"

Copper Pods and Indian Ash

The trees are abloom
Yellows, whites and pinks
Happy kids
out of school.

Pride of India, indeed

It is April, and once again that beautiful Lagerstroemia tree on Turnbulls Road is in bloom.  

I photographed it in 2012, and am so glad it has not been axed, and still stands tall and proud, and purple in April.

Lagerstroemia speciosa  -  Pride of India, Queen Crepe Myrtle

The papery flowers

GNP and scrub forests

A lovely little piece, about the jewel of a National Park in our midst.  I love the details about the scrub forests and their importance.

Enter the jungle: Where in this busy city would you find 150 species of birds? – Citizen Matters, Chennai

April 12, 2019 Seetha Gopalakrishnan

With a mix of cackles, screeches and chuckles, the spotted owlet with its harsh call is seen and heard often at the Guindy National Park

Historically, South Chennai has been a massive floodplain, comprised predominantly of the Pallikaranai marsh and its satellite wetlands with intermittent patches of scrub forests. Remnants of these forests are seen in protected campuses of the Theosophical society, the Indian Institute of Technology, Guindy National Park and the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest to the south of the city. Spread over 2.7 square kilometre, the Guindy National Park (GNP), a slice of coastal thorny scrub is a haven of quiet, amidst the bustling metropolis that envelopes it on all sides.

Chennai’s forests

The Chennai Forest Circle, which comprises the districts of Chennai, Chengalpattu and Tiruvallur is blessed with three out of the nine major forest types of the State–tropical dry deciduous, tropical dry thorn scrub and tropical dry evergreen.

Before this forest patch in Guindy was declared as a National Park in 1978, it was part of the elaborate Guindy Lodge, the official country residence of the erstwhile Governor of Madras and now the official residence of the Governor of the state of Tamil Nadu, the Raj Bhavan. GNP was originally a mix of tropical scrub and Palmyra dominated thorn woodlands. Over the years it was enriched with native and exotic trees to create the present vegetation structure that resembles a natural forest.

The region’s isolated scrub forests are characterised by the presence of relatively short trees interspersed with grasslands. Scrubs and thickets are most often surrounded by larger trees making the area appear densely vegetated. An abundance of fruit bearing trees and shrubs makes GNP a thriving bird habitat as well.



The Blackbuck (Antilope cervicapra) and the Chital or Spotted Deer (Axis axis) are the predominant faunal elements at the GNP with the latter being introduced into the Park while the Raj Bhavan was being developed; they have now been found to feed and breed in the contiguous IIT-Madras campus as well.

Over the years, close to a hundred and fifty species of birds have been sighted at the GNP which include different species of bee-eaters, bulbuls and sunbirds.

The GNP is not just a critical green lung, but also an excellent space to showcase urban forest conservation. The Park has consistently interested scientists and naturalists for existing as an island of tranquility in the midst of urban congestion and concrete chaos. The Forest Department had developed walking trails within the Park, most of which were destroyed by Cyclone Vardah. One such trail remains, now mostly used by school children to take a tour around the Park.

Since only school students in small batches are currently allowed to enter the GNP, here is a virtual tour for you through our photos:

The eighth smallest National Park in the country, the Guindy National Park is a mosaic of woodland, shrubs and grasslands. Over 350 species of plants and 150 species of birds have been recorded here over the years. Twelve species of mammals including the near-threatened Blackbuck and the Golden Jackal call the National Park their home

The Blackbuck is currently the sole representative of the genus Antilope and together with the Chital is the umbrella species of the Guindy National Park. The Golden Jackal is currently the Park’s primary predator

The GNP landscape is typified by tropical scrub vegetation. Acacia planifrons know as the kodai velan in Tamil (kodai meaning umbrella, indicative of its umbrella-shaped canopy) traditionally used as firewood is found in abundance

The sweet-scent of the Ixora brachiata blossoms (Sulundhu in Tamil; Torchwood tree in English) fill the air with the tree in full bloom between the months of March and April in deciduous slopes across the subcontinent



Palmyrah, Borassus flabellifer, the state tree of Tamil Nadu is also the nominate species of the coastal areas. The Palmyrah-dominated scrubland habitat is extremely crucial for the survival of the Blackbuck and other native species of plants and animals

About seven species of indigenous Ficus (collectively known as fig trees to which the Banyan belongs) are found in the campus. These trees serve as the keystone species in the ecosystem on which many other species, mostly avifauna greatly depend on

The white breasted kingfisher is commonly seen in the Park, feeding mostly on insects, frogs and sometimes on fish. The bird is brilliantly coloured with a bright blue back, brown lower belly and stunning red beaks.

A variety of spiders are found in the Park of which the signature spider is of particular interest. These spiders build decorated webs with strokes which look like signatures, and hence the name

Brilliant red velvet spiders are also commonly seen at the GNP during the rainy season. Apart from the macro-fauna, there is a wide variety of invertebrates–termites, worms, crabs, bugs and butterflies. These creatures help in preserving the ecosystem in their own small ways from tilling the soil to pollination and decomposition

With an amazing plant wealth, the Guindy National Park acts as an excellent green lung and an admirable refugium for local biodiversity

Prior permission needs to be obtained from the Wildlife Warden, Chennai to enter the National Park. Currently, only school students in small batches are being allowed to enter the GNP

References: Developing a water management strategy and action plan in the Guindy National Park; TNFD, 2014;

All pictures clicked by Seetha Gopalakrishnan and Vinoth Balasubramanian for Care Earth Trust.