Pelicans up close at Nelapattu

My first live encounter with a pelican was on a visit to the Jurong Bird Park, in Singapore. My son was littler then, (literally!), probably around 4 ft, and completely enthralled by the feathered friends on view. We were walking along the path near Pelican Cove, and he was chattering away with us, blissfully unaware that following just behind him on the path was a pelican, walking with a deliberate, serious gait. My son happened to turn around, and was startled out of his skin to be eyeballing a pelican. This fellow studied my son with a deliberate air, dismissed him as not worthy of further interaction and then shuffled on up the path, with an air of an academic don ruminating his latest theory.

Then came Finding Nemo, and that delightful animation from Disney of a pelican, its large beak and inquisitive personality.

I always thought of them as these exotic birds that one finds in far-away lands. How ignorant I was. Our chance visit to Nelapattu - just 100 kms away from Madras - and there they were, nesting, socialising and living in a pelicanry. No, they were not migrants from somewhere else, they are there all year long, using the Barringtonia tree tops in the tank as nesting places. Not one or two but hundreds! These are the spot-billed pelicans, common in Asia.

Since then, I've seen them many a time, and am always fascinated by these large birds, each of which seems like quite a character. There was once this solitary, pensive pelican we came across in the waters of Pulicat, who really looked like he was in need of cheering up.

Another one flew by our boat, with a rather busy, dont-bother-me look, and what looked like a bill-full of fish.

Then there was this harassed looking mama pelican trying to calm her testy little ones, as she opened her beak to them. They create quite a combined racket, these birds, and as you approach, it reminds one of a school building where the hum of hundreds of kids carries across the air.

My favourite so far has been this young show off we saw on our last visit. As we watched from the boundaries of the lake, he came gliding down into the water. He came paddling by (they are good swimmers, with duck-like webbed feet), posing for all the shutterbugs, first left profile, then right, straight one now, ok now my beak with the spots, want to see my feathers?, alright that's enough, I have to go now!





A trip to Nelapattu is always rewarding because of these birds, and I could spend hours watching them as they go about their daily routines.

Getting to Nelapattu

Its not difficult to get to. The first time, we took a morning passenger to Gummidipoondi, then changed trains to Doravarichatram, from where its a short, dusty walk to the lake. This last time, we just drove down, lovely highway all the way once you leave the city. Driving down gives you the option of visiting both Pulicat and Nelapattu in a day. That way you can take in the graceful flamingoes and lovely painted storks in Pulicat (they require a separate essay) and then see the pelicans and Ibis and Open-billed storks in Nelapattu.

The hoopoe in the tree

One quiet afternoon a few weeks ago, I looked out of my bedroom window to see a hoopoe sitting on the Millingtonia tree, and surveying his immediate environment. (Now I dont know for sure if it was a he or a she, since they both look alike, but since he had the cocky air quite typical of the male species in general, I assumed he was male!) Was he looking for a mate, a nesting site? Hoopoes nest between February and May, in tree hollows. Nowadays though, gaps between roof tiles will do nicely thank you.

I hurried off to get my little Sony Cybershot, and my binoculars to capture the moment. So, while the picture is not great, I did get a long, uninterrupted look-see through my binos. What an interesting plumage. Fawn coloured, and then the feathers on the back and wings have this zebra-like stripes. It also has a crest, which stayed folded back, all the time I was watching it. But it opens up the crest, like a fan every now and then. If you want to see a hoopoe with its crest open, click here.

As I looked, the hoopoe turned around and fixed me with a hard, long stare, its eyes glinting in the sun, and its long curved bill reminding me of a narrow scimitar. It is supposed to use its bill like forceps, to pick up worms and grubs, from the soil. Rather elegant and sophisticated dont you think?!

It then let out a soft call, which was a lovely, musical one, travelling in the breeze to me. Salim Ali describes the call as a "hoo-po, hoo-po", which it really did!

After a while, the hoopoe left, in a flash of black and white, and I was just left with the memory.... and the picture.

Mamandur - Bungalow on the hill

One of my early sorties with MNS, in March 2006.

March 24th

After much agonising about should we/shouldn’t we, Sheila and I finally decided to take the car, with a driver, and set off for Mamandur on Friday afternoon, from Madras. We were joining a group of Madras Naturalist Society, MNS members on a birdwatching trip.

Greenhorns in the world of birding, we were very excited about this trip of ours.

Getting there

Mamandur is a small village, north of Renigunta, about 150 kms from Madras. Our driver Kalyansundaram was very familiar with the route, as it is the same one as the Tirupathi highway. So from Poonamalee, we went via Tiruvallur, Nagari and Putur, on a decent highway, winding though green paddy fields as well as miles of sunflower.

On reaching Renigunta, we had to take the Cudappah highway, a beautiful road, parallel to the railway line, and in 15kms, we had reached the village of Mamandur in Andhra Pradesh.

Stopping at the bus stand, to get directions to the forest bungalow, we came across a Getz with Mr Ramachandran and Gopal, also looking for directions. Taking the turn off to the east, our excitement mounted as we caught glimpses of the bungalow up on the hill. In a matter of minutes, all of a sudden we could hear bird call and the rustling of trees, and the din of the highway was muted and remote.

After a three and a half hour ride, we arrived at the quaint Mamandur bungalow. The bungalow forms part of the backdrop of Kenneth Anderson’s “Mamandur Man eater”, and to our very pleasant surprise, looked more or less the same. (Of course, in their efforts to maintain and upkeep the place, there were now ceramic tiles on the floors, and colour TVs with a DTH connection in all the three rooms!)

The bungalow faces south. To the east, is scrub forest, with fire lines, and further east a ridge that blocks out the horizon. To the immediate west is the Mamandur village, the highway and the railway line, and then the main forest of the S Venkatewara sanctuary.

Our first venture into the forest

Soon the SUV with the rest of the members trundled in, and after a round of introductions, room allocations and making arrangements for dinner, a jeep ride through the forest was suggested.

It was already sundown when we set off. Gopal volunteered to take the Getz, as we all would not have fitted into the SUV. So we set off for the western part of the SV protected sanctuary, crossing the railway line.

A wonderfully, dark and thrilling experience, but not an animal did we sight! A couple of nightjars thankfully posed for us, caught in the beam of a floodlight that the guide had brought along. A thick scrub forest, with large bamboo groves and red sanders, as we went in, the forest crowded around us, and the Getz found the going tough.

The night sky was amazing, with Orion resplendent, as also the Pleiades. Jayshankar brought back a Glowworm.

Back to the bungalow, dinner and jungle stories under the stars, the screech of Spotted Owlets in the trees, while some of the men set off for a jungle walk, with the guide.

March 25th

Woken up with thimblefuls of tea at 5-30, the morning air was cool, and the view of the forest below us was beautiful. The sun had not yet emerged over the ridge, and there was a misty haze over the forest, as bird call floated up to us.

As we set off west, we were introduced to White bellied Minivets, even before we reached the village. They were arguably one of the most common birds of Mamandur.

As we reached the village, the screeches of rose-ringed parakeets greeted us, and I was amazed to get a close glimpse of one of them sitting and fastidiously eating a fruit. She stared at me, and I was almost ready to hear her hurl insults at me (like one of the pirate parrots in a Tintin comic)! But she only took off after a screech of disapproval.

We crossed the Mamandur station and made our way into the forest - various sights and sounds – bear droppings, lion ant mounds, wild gooseberry….

I missed a lot of the birds that the "pros" saw, as I was not as quick. So I missed the red-collared dove, and the laughing dove and a barbet, and several others, whose calls were being identified fast and furious. As we walked through the underbrush, I could hear the birds and see them darting about, but I was not quick enough to spot them with my binoculars, and so get a better view.

We reached a clearing in the forest just as I started to despair. My luck changed! There on a tree trunk, with the sun catching their golden backs was a pair of Greater Flamebacks. Though I had seen these birds earlier, in Madras, it was quite something else spotting them in the forest. They pecked their way up and down the tree trunk, and their backs shimmered in the sun. Others pointed out a Blue-winged leafbird and a Black-hooded oriole, both so spectacularly colourful that I was gasping in wonder. A Black Drongo flew by and perched on a tree.

The best was still to come. We were shushed to silence by the members ahead. There was a flash of rust as a bird flashed by. Paradise flycatcher was the whispered identification. It had vanished. After a few more yards in silence, we saw it again! There it sat on a low branch with its brown, long tail hanging down – the Asian Paradise Flycatcher, a rufous male.

Then, a male breeding Common Iora was spotted high in the trees. A black-and-white Oriental Magpie Robin was very busy in the branches. Jungle Mynas and Indian Robins were spied, as also an Ashy Wood Swallow.

Our guide led us to a small rivulet with water streaming down a rock. During the rains, the whole rock face would support a gushing fall, but right now, it was down to a stream, and a pool of water, with fishes in it. The pool is used by forest workers and visitors for fresh water, and to rest a while.

We made our way back by a different fireline, further north. By now the sun was beating down and we were all hot and tired. The way back brought some spectacular views of the forest from above. We returned to the bungalow for a hearty breakfast, a most welcome bath and lazing in the verandah, with everyone taking short snoozes. Behind the dining pergola, on the trees surrounding the bungalow, I saw a small green bird, with a long slightly curved beak – a green bee eater.

The afternoon was spent in the eastern pergola, where idle talk was interrupted by the call of birds, sudden brilliant blue in the sky and then the only bird of prey I saw on our trip.
The brilliant blue was accompanied by a spectacular roll and a raucous cry – the Indian roller bird. The male bird has quite an elaborate courtship performance that includes a roll and somersault in flight! We even saw the tree in which the pair had made their nest.

For a fleeting moment a bird of prey circled above – was it a kite?

Evening came, and we headed out to the forests again, taking the vehicle up to the start of the forest, and then tramping through, with the hope of seeing some deer. I guess there were too many of us, and just the sound of our feet on the leafy forest floor was enough to scare anything away.

Out in the west, we saw some forest fires raging, possibly man-made by villagers, and several MNS members went and stamped out quite a few. We sat on a rocky outcrop in a clearing, waiting for dusk. As the sun set, a nightjar circled overhead, calling in anxiety. Were we sitting close to its nest?

As the stars appeared, our guide began the walk back. An alarm call went out through the forest, and there was excitement that maybe we would see some wildlife. I was quite nervous – with every sound being amplified, and rustling leaves all around! We caught the eyes of deer in the spotlight that the guide carried, but little else.

But the nightwalk is an experience in itself. As a city dweller, I realised how far removed from natural survival skills I was. I can cross a crowded city street, navigate unknown areas, and take safety precautions in the city, but out here in the forest, I was most ill equipped. If I was lost, would I survive the night?? Rather dramatic thoughts, which I felt sheepish about once we left the forest, and were on the highway!

March 26th

While a jeepload of members headed out for a jungle drive, four of us decided to explore the smaller eastern forest, just below the lodge. It was a lovely morning walk. Dew dripped from bamboo groves, and the sun came through in shafts of light, cobwebs glistened and anthills stood tall. I wished we could muffle the crunch of our footsteps, and mute the electronic sounds of our cameras, to enjoy the quiet. Suddenly up ahead a group of five deer darted across the fireline, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

I marvelled at all the flowering trees, wildflowers; The guide pointed out leopard droppings on the forest floor. We reached a river bed, which was now a rivulet. In the monsoon of 2005, the water had obviously overflowed the banks, as we could see a watermark high up on the neighbouring trees. The rounded river stones were in an amazing variety of colours.

We wandered back after a couple of hours. Then began our preparations to return back to Madras. A most satisfying three days!

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!

Rendezvous with Bubo bubo - a first encounter

Bubo bubo is a new personality I came across in November 2007, and such a handsome specimen was he that I had to write about him. He goes by many aliases - Great Indian horned owl and Eurasian eagle Owl. For a beginner like me, its bad enough trying to remember one name, but three?!

This huge owl nests in the scrub forest of Nanmangalam, and is a regular "attraction" to the MNS members who go there. So, in a sense he was the goal of our Sunday walk this time, and he didnt let us down. He sat magnificently and posed for all of us, unmoving for the most part.

It was not a good day to go birding - cloudy, with light rain spells, but nevertheless 19 of us did show up. "Asemble at the Vengai vassal bus stop, at 2:30. Ask for Quaid-e-millat college," was the instruction, and I of course (in the absence of my more sensible husband who would never set off like this I am sure) didnt get detailed directions on how to get there. "Oh, just go on the Velachery-Tambaram road, and ask anybody, they'll tell you," was the off-hand comment that I very bravely set off with my 11 year old son for company.

When we did get on this road, we came across a couple of college-going girls on the roadside, and decided that they should know about colleges in the neighbourhood. They gave us look, which could translate as "hello, which road are you on, dont you know where you are going?" and declared that there was no such place in the vicinity! By this time of course, the drizzle had become persistent, and of course we didnt know whether we were on the right road in the first place. My son, quite used to his mad mother, said, "Oh well, we can have a drive and then go home", in a rather resigned tone, when I spied a security guard outside some fancy gate, which said institute of ocean technology or some such.

When we asked him for directions, he said, "innu oru anju km poanu maa, idhe road, straighta." Aah, what joy, three cheers for the guard, we thanked him in a hurry and carried on. The road - not bad actually - wound through Medavakkam, and just kept going, when suddenly I saw a familiar profile in the Palio ahead of me.

"Isnt that Arun" I asked. Who else would wear a cap inside a car in Madras? Now I had a problem, if I did wave, and yell and catch their attention and it was not who we thought it was, it would be rather embarassing wouldnt it? So a bold overtaking move had to be undertaken. Bold because we were now in some crowded parts of some locality with an assortment of cycles, three wheelers, pedestrians and of course buses going in both directions. Overtaking was achieved, it was Arun, and we waved and heaved a sigh of relief, that yes there were other mad hatters also going the same way.

Now we followed obediently, and found soon an array of cars lining up behind us. We stopped and all the cars disgorged their occupants, each calling the other mad to be going out in this weather, but nobody turning back.

So off we went into the forest, with the undergrowth all wet with the rain, so were we in a short period of time. First discovery was that "landmine" in naturalist jargon is for excrement of the human kind!

Bhanu introduced me to -

• The thumbai flower - Leucas sp. may be Leucas aspera. An erect herb with white flowers.
  
•  Ashy social spiders - they are the only spider which live in colonies
  
• Spittle bugs - that hide in their spit
  
• Gloriosa superba - our state flower! Glory lily or Kalappai kizangu is Gloriosa superba. It is a climbing herb with white tuberous root. 
  
• The three inch long thorns of Dichrostachys cinerea. 
  
• the plentiful Dodonia viscosa shrubs, with shiny leaves
  
• the lovely star-shaped Carissa spinarum flowers in the undergrowth
  
• The pilayar kannu seeds of Abrus precatorius, which is a climber. The seeds are red with black spots.

In a little while, the drizzle stopped, and the swallows took to the air, swooping and whizzing by. Bulbuls were aplenty, as also babblers.

The picture is taken by Raghavan of MNS, better known as Rags, who came along with us on the walk, and kept his camera so well hidden that we were surprised to see the picture! Thanks Rags!

But of course Mr Bubo was the highlight of the walk (along with Bhanu's ringtone, which went tadatadatad, hello, then tadatada, helloo, and so on. Both phone and owner getting increasingly frantic as they scrabbled to find each other!)

Did you see the legs of the owl in the picture? You wouldn't want to mess with this bird, almost 2 ft high, and with a piercing stare. These owls position themselves on rock or cliff faces, and the abandoned quarry walls at Nanmangalam provide a suitable perch and nest for these birds.

Even my son had to admit it was quite a sight. I hope next time, we are lucky to see them fly, because their wingspan will be impressive.

A jewel in the jungle

After all these long years in Madras, I can finally say that I've visited the Guindy National Park. Not the snake park or the children's park, but the protected reserve behind a locked gate.

Sunday evening and Banumathi of MNS took a bunch of 15 of us into the park. The basics of nature walking - silence, dull clothes and a keen eye.

This beautiful antigonon spray greeted us on our entry. Its a lovely creeper, and commonly called Coral Vine. I believe there's a white variety, which I have not come across. This pink variety is all over the KFI school walls, Blue Cross and various large estates in south Madras.

I learnt about the difference between a bug and a beetle - the bug sucks and the beetle chews. Saw some great looking insects - the jewel bug, the green link spider, the flightless grasshopper, and other creepy crawlies. Some parakeets, posed for us, as also the coppersmith barbets.

One of the high points was definitely coming across this little marvel called the jewel bug. It was a real beauty, its colours glitterring in the sun. Belongs to the Scutelleridae family.

Learnt that bugs like this "suck", while beetles chew!

One learns something new everyday.....

Frog spawn - oh I thought it was a rossogolla - star tortoises, and the endangered black buck. What kind of strange human beings could shoot these magnificent and handsome creatures?

Ate wild berries, worked up a good sweat, and was in the heart of south Madras without the sound of a bus, or a crow. The big aeroplanes though roared by at regular intervals, startling the fawn and gambolling deer.

Feathered visitors through the day

March 11, 2008

It was one of those days when visitors kept dropping by, some were a pleasant diversion and others were a nuisance.

Early morning visitor

Though we do not have a fresh water body close to us, this kingfisher is a regular early morning visitor. Salim Ali says its the kingfisher variety least dependent on water, and that could explain its regular presence.

It has a distinctive rattling kind of call that carries far in the still, quiet air at dawn. The call is almost like an alarm for me in the mornings, to wake up and get on with organising my day.

Most of the time, the WBK - white breasted kingfisher is too far away to see clearly, but this morning, it came and sat on the clothes line pylons on our terrace! So I could easily see its white chest and heavy, red bill. The male and female look alike so I couldn't tell if it was Mr ya Mrs.

Besides fish, these WBK also eat lizards and insects, and there are plenty of those around. Maybe I should invite it into our apartment for some natural lizard control! Right now, the lizards have a free run of our place, and we see their romances, wars and hunts played out on our walls.

The only thing is that the WBK bashes its prey to death before swallowing them, and I dont think I have a stomach for such gruesome murders in my apartment!

Later in the day...

Mr House Sparrow is very busy these days, and the hanging cable wire outside my window - which is an eyesore - serves him well. He comes and settles himself on it, mid morning, and as he sits and swings on it, engages me in loud chatter.

I wish I could understand what he goes on about, but my lack of comprehension doesnt seem to faze him in the least. He keeps his end of the conversation going very well! Chirp, chirp, hop, hop, look how busy I am, he seems to say. "You mean you haven't even had a bath?! I've had my morning cuppa, and am now running errands for the missus. No time to waste, cant be late you know, she has a temper", and off he goes, only to return in a little while to continue his chat.

In a few days, I'll know all about his family at this rate!

Now, whoever said that the sparrows are gone?

Unwanted permanent residents

Gootr-goo, gootr goo, all day long they go, all over our building, and I suppose half the buildings of the city! For some unexplainable reason, I do not like the Blue Rock Pigeon.

Its actually a beautiful bird, I suppose, with a glistening neck, striking black lines across its wings and a nice grey colour, but.... they seem so clumsy and ungainly, flapping their wings and making a godawful racket just to take off.

And have you seen their nests? Just put together a few sticks in a niche, crevice and they are done. Wonder what the baya weavers think about them, or even the bulbuls, who have such neat nests.

And then they land with a thud, on the aircons or wherever they descend, reminiscent of the old B52 bombers of WWII!

I prefer the crows to these birds. They are light of feet and feather and build their nests in trees, like birds should!!!

I try to be a tolerant naturalist, but my resolve is sorely tested by the rock pigeons.

Wonder why pigeon soup is not popular in the city restaurants?!

Tracking the Indian Pitta at IIT

November 25, 2007

The IIT Chennai campus is, in a sense, part of the Guindy National Park green lung for our city. I have many visited the campus over the years, and though there has been construction over the years, it is still a delightful place, an oasis of calm for us city dwellers.

6:30 am, and the place was abuzz with bird calls. A pair of chital crossed the road ahead of us, and continued to look at us curiously from the side of the road. We were a small group of four, and it was my first time in the campus with binoculars.

Padmanabhan, the IITian among us, took us to the lake, which was full of water. The reason for the trip was P's reporting of the arrival of Indian pittas. This bird is a winter visitor to Madras, (and for some reason has made the cover of Salim Ali's Birds of India and also features on the back cover of Birds of Southern India by Grimmett and Inskipp). Curiosity piqued, Sheila and I had to go!

The sun wans't out as yet - it was a cloudy day. Drongos on the tree near the temple, as also a lovely coucal. So shy, it immediately hid behind some branches when it spotted us.

The cool crispness of the morning kind off removed all the cobwebs from my brain and the sleep from my eyes. It was all so frustrating initially, as the foliage was dense, the birds were calling and darting about, but we couldn't see any of them. I mean really see. A shadow here, rustle of wings there, fading calls, but for a beginner like me, it was all too quick to really spot anything.

Suddenly, sitting silently on a branch above us, we spotted a lovely orange bird. What was it? Thrush, came the urgent whisper, and we trained our binoculars on it. It just sat there for us to get a good look at its orange head and chest, and the blue of its wings. About half a foot high. The Orange-headed thrush

Immediately thereafter, we did see The Indian Pitta! On a distant branch, and I'm sure I would've missed it, but for Arun and Padmanabhan, who pointed it out. Long legs, a yellowish underbody with a hint of a red vent, is what I saw. But I think what struck me most was its eyes - like a kohl-lined eyes of a bharatanatyam dancer. It shifted position, to allow us to see the greensih body as well. Quite a multi-coloured chap!

The pitta, I learnt is a hopper - we then did see the bird hopping about among the foliage on the ground, upturning leaves and looking for worms. Padmanabhan said these birds only call at daybreak, and so we missed the musical call of this bird.

We then walked across the campus to the wall adjoining the Guindy National Park, and there saw the bird in the picture - a blue-faced malkoha. We saw Arun taking out his camera, with deliberate, slow movements, and so went up to him and asked him what is it he saw. Without looking up, he hissed, "In the tree straight ahead look, a malkoha." (I was wondering about all this stealth, but later realised that if birds see you staring at them, they get all flustered and fly off! And no pointing either, please, as I learnt later) The Malkoha is a shy bird, which I think has no call. Anyway, all the stealth resulted in the picture above. A striking bird, and rather distinct eyes, isnt it?

It was an eyes and brows day, or so it seemed, since our next sighting was a White Browed bulbul . I've seen all kinds of bulbuls now - red vented, red-whiskered, yellow browed and white-browed!

Four new birds, one outing. Not bad huh?

Birding spots to the south of the city

Gillian of Delhibird network had this to say about the spots she visited from Madras:

VEDANTHANGAL

Just 80 kms south of Chennai this is a village water body where birds are said to have been
protected by villagers since 1793. They found that the guano dropped by nesting colonies made excellent fertilizers and their crops were better than their neighbours. It is now a sanctuary – a real bird city if ever there was one.

When I visited on the afternoon of Sunday, 24th February, there were hundreds of tourists strolling on the bandh at one side of the sanctuary. There was not a scrap of litter to be seen, all the visitors were quiet and taking a real interest in the birds. Many had their own binoculars or had hired the ones available. It was really heartening to see such genuine enthusiasm.

The magnificent nesting colonies occupied trees standing in the water. Many hundreds of painted storks were in the process of building their nests, incubating eggs or caring for new fluffy chicks. Hundreds of immature open-billed storks were standing waiting for their parents to return (some adults could also be seen around them), and at the back was a huge number of spot-billed pelicans and small cormorants. Night herons, spoonbills, black-headed ibis, grey heron and glossy ibis were present in less substantial numbers while a few darters and pintails could be seen in the water. The coming and goings of all these species made the sky a spectacular sight.

AUROVILLE, city of human unity near Pondicherry

The main success of Aurovillians has been afforestation. With years of building check dams, bandhs and planting first Australian acacia to stabilize the land and then indigenous species they have created a de facto forest sanctuary for many species including porcupines.

There is now a fascinating nascent botanical garden and a specialist medicinal herbs garden. Much work is being done on organic cropping – one of the reason the place is full of butterflies and other spectacular insects.

Among the bird highlights I saw were Indian pitta, yellow-wattled lapwing, paradise-flycatcher (both phases), white-browed bulbul, black-naped monarch, blue-throated flycatcher, black-headed cuckoo shrike, golden oriole, yellow-billed babbler, Loten's sunbird. The common hawk cuckoos are deafening in the morning.

Salim Ali's nephew, Dr. Rauf Ali, is based in Auroville and has a checklist for the forest city and for the nearby wetland of Kaliveli.

KALIVELI

This is a major wetland about 20 kms from Auroville - next to flat grassland full of oriental skylarks, ashy finch-larks and other grassland species stands a huge expanse of short, round-stemmed reeds used for thatching. Beyond the reeds the water is no more than 2 meters deep. Walking along one edge of the reeds, we saw thousands of Garganey, and good numbers of spot-billed pelican, ruff, marsh sandpiper, wood sandpiper, black tailed godwit, little ringed plover, pintail snipe, little stint, black-winged stilt, painted storks, and one white stork. There were dozens of marsh and Montagu's harriers but the first raptor we sighted was a peregrine.

There are many other tanks in the area which merit investigation, and it was particularly heartening to see Garganey in such good numbers in this region.

A visit to Kaliveli is on the cards in the coming month, for me! MNS members did go on a day trip to Vedanthangal, and this is what Chitra had to say:

Hi,
For an informal trip, we had a surprisingly large group of 16 adults and 2 kids who turned up at the Vedanthangal bird sanctuary this morning. Of course, different groups had different agendas and we converged only for breakfast! One group went off on a photography course... one group just enjoyed the walk on the bund, where as the majority tried their best to identify the birds there...
We saw about 40 species of birds in the two hours or so we spent in Vedanthangal and the half hour we squeezed in at Karikili Tank.
Chitra

(Note - Karikili is different from Kaliveli!)

The Millingtonia outside my window

Madras is lovely these days, cloudy and cool, and I can sit and quite happily daydream at my window, enjoying the trees and the breeze. One particular window is my favourite. Looking out of it, I see no buildings immediately, as there is a Millingtonia, some teak and coconut trees, badam, neem, forming a lovely green sight for my eyes.



My favourite of the lot is the Millingtonia, or maramalli tree. It is a perching point for many a bird that I see. Currently, it has shed some leaves and there a lot of bare branches, but by April/May, I hope to see it flower again. The white fragrant flowers, which fall in the mornings, form a white carpet under the tree. When the tree is in flower, the sunbirds are excited and in plenty.

I was rewarded this morning, with an amazing moment that lasted all of thirty seconds I think.

A coppersmith barbet, a red vented bulbul, a sunbird, and a crow all perched on the leafless branches of the Millingtonia! Soon, the quartet was joined by another barbet, but then all except the crow took wing. I had just enough time to take a look at them through my binoculars, before they all took off.

The tree is native to the Myanmar area, and is named after Sir Thomas Millington, an 18th century English botanist and a physician, informs Dr Mahadeswara Swamy, in his Know Your Trees series for the MNS. The bark supposedly is used as a cork substitute, and hence the common name Indian Cork Tree.