Tree guards, bagworms and argiopes

Its been an interesting fortnight.

# Went on tree walks with toddlers and teenagers.

# Rambled at the PWD park, with the sun, bees and butterflies for company.

# Saw pictures from Chandrika of a creature that looked like it had come from some alien land.

# Learnt that cycle tires can make good and cheap tree-guards.

# Discovered an argiope inside one of those tree guards.

# Saw scores of black kites all of a sudden.

# Have been tracking an ugly little "crowling" grow into a handsome large-billed crow, all set to fly.

The tree walks and the PWD park ramble were courtesy Nizhal, that wonderful, enthusiastic band of tree lovers of Chennai. Their volunteers go around, in different localities and parks of the city, with different groups, taking young and old on walks to familiarise us with the trees of the neighbourhood, and hoping to spread awareness and commitment for saving our trees.

May their tribe grow.

One of the projects which is currently consuming their time, energy and attention is the PWD land/park in Kotturpuram on the southern bank of the Adyar river. Local species are being planted in order to make a tree park - no lawns or concrete walkways, is what I've understood it.

It was here that a bunch of toddlers came, to plant a few saplings and get sensitised about the need for trees.

The planting was done with much enthusiasm, as also the chasing of butterflies and mynahs. The high point was finding an earthworm in the soil as they planted, and there was many a "ewww" from the girls, while the boys fell strangely silent, taking a tentative step backwards, as Deepika extended her earthworm-filled hand to display it better!

It was here that I learnt that discarded tires make cheap and quick tree guards.

Nizhal volunteers come on Sundays, and quickly put these together, through some clever entwining of binding tape. There had been a couple of showers and so the ground was covered with green undergrowth, and I quite enjoyed hanging out there, never mind the sun.

So it was that I volunteered to go and check on the saplings one Tuesday morning - the saplings do need to be tended - and made an interesting "discovery. More about that later.

The case of the Bagworm moth

On returning home, I found a strange email in my inbox, titled "strange flower feeder". Chandrika of MNS posted these pictures:

An ant trying to get at the larvae

You can see more such pictures at her Picassa gallery here.

See the head poking out
Well, it was my turn to go "eww", as I stared at my computer screen! It turns out, that Chandrika was testing her new macro lens, and found this in her own garden in Thiruvanmyur! Talk about urban wildlife! I was sure that no one would know what this strange creature was.

I had obviously under-estimated the "pros" of MNS. Quick came the replies - thats a bagworm moth larva, dear, go look it up! And so I did. It turns out that larvae of this moth family build their cases out of any old debris they find around - twigs, soil, leaves - as soon as they hatch. The binding is a kind of silk they secrete.

Now, as it grows, it carries this case and moves along, and the caterpillar pokes it heads out to feed on the leaves of the host plant, like any hungry caterpillar. When it is fully grown, it anchors the case to a branch and seals the opening. It then develops into a moth. If its a male, its lucky, it grows wings supposedly and then flies off to find a mate.

But if you are born a female bagworm moth, then life cannot be much fun - you are stuck in that case, you lay your eggs in it and then you die!

If that was not interesting enough, my next visit to the PWD park revealed yet another mystery.

St Andrew's Cross

It had rained insistently for a couple of days, and so the park looked even greener. The undergrowth was wet, the little meadow flowers were buzzing with bees, and as the sun was up already, the butterflies were going crazy chasing each other.

My visit was supposedly to take a look at all the saplings and report back on their state. So I dutifully, stuck my head into every tree guard, to make sure the sapling was alive and well.

And I was rewarded with this!

I stopped short and stared. I have never seen such a large and complete web in my life. I swear, it was atleast 2ft by 2ft.

Hmmm, but it seemed to have only four legs, and as far as I knew all self-respecting spiders have eight.

Oh look, its actually taken some of the binding tape and woven it into its web! ( or so I thought.)
I came home, and my first spider image hit was this. And I had identified my spider!

Not four legs, but eight, held together in an "x" cross. And so the reference to St Andrew who was crucified on a cross like this and not the standard crucifying cross.

Here's some more interesting stuff about Argiope:

Besides their standard orb-web, Argiope spiders build additional white opaque zig zag lines on their webs, called stabilimentum.

Sometimes the zig-zag lines match their leg positions, which lead some people to suggest that this helps give the appearance of longer legs. Some spiders build a single vertical line, yet others a patch of zig zags in the centre of the web. No matter the design, the spider sits right smack in the middle. We do not know the purpose of these lines, but some of the explanations put forward include:
They stabilise the web (hence their name!)
They warn larger animals in the same way that safety strips on glass doors warn people from walking into them. Thus the web is protected from damage by flying birds.
Research has shown that the silk in the stabilimentum reflects ultraviolet well, unlike the silk used in the rest of the web. Thus, the designs may mimic flowers, which also reflect ultraviolet light well, and often have lines to guide insects to honey like airport lights do for airplanes. Instead, the insects are guided to the spider which sits in the centre!!

Source: The Mangrove and Wildlife at Sungei Buloh Wetlands Reserve.

And I had thought that stabilimentum was the twining tape!! According to this website, Argiope mangal puts out two stabilimentum, and Argiope versicolor puts out four. This one has three!

I also discovered that there is a site on South Indian Spiders.

And guess what. I could not find this chappie there. (Actually, its a lady - only lady spiders build webs...So what do the male ones do for food? I need to find out.)

I cannot find any India mentions of this spider. So, is my id wrong then? or is this some stray imported spider which shouldn't be here?

Somebody help!

The Madras Club cupola above the grand trees, on the opposite bank of the estuary.

Look under those leaves and rocks, folks, you never know what you will find!

Neolithic aesthetics

At the Jordan museum, I came across these lime plaster statues. Hmmm, interesting, I thought, and decided to take a closer look, and did a double take.

8th Milennium BC?! Neolithic period??!!

I could not believe my eyes, and I was a bit sceptical of the claims being made until I returned and did some background reading - which meant that I googled, basically.

Statues of Ain Ghazal, that's what these models below are called.

They were found in the settlement of Ain Ghazal, a Neolithic settlement quite close to modern-day Amman in Jordan. I was very fascinated by those eyes.

Even now when I look at these pictures, the age of these statues just boggles my mind. 9,000 years ago, our ancestors were already into statue-making, isn't that amazing!

And the face proportions are much better than anything I have ever achieved in my various attempts at drawing. (Maybe my side of the family did not come from this branch of Neoliths!)

These statues are from the second Cache that was discovered, I have since learnt. The first cache seems to have had statues that were a bit more shapely, but the faces were more grotesque.

This second cache of statues typically had these large-eyed statues, but with these feature-less torsos, and where are the arms? Interestingly, the toes and feet are well-carved.

This two-headed statue has thrown all the historians and archaeologists into a tizzy. What could it possibly mean? Was it some God of theirs?

By the way, they were discovered by a road-laying crew in 1974! In a strange coincidence, a Neolithic site in the Indian subcontinent was also discovered in 1974 - Mehrgarh in Pakistan.

In South India, it seems that 7,000BC and we were still in the stone age. Neolithic culture came here only in 3,000BC or so. Burial urns from that time period have been found here.

I have always maintained that the large potholes and trenches in Madras are actually archaeological digs!

"A rose-red city half as old as time"

So said the poet John William Burgon in 1845, and I first read the line at Kamini's Tales of South India.

I re-read it the other day, and the poem rang so true, now that we had enjoyed the privilege of seeing this wonderful wedge of timelessness. It took my breath away and I did not even try to put into words the wonder of it all.

Instead, I turned to a person, who has a better way with words. (Clever, aren't I?!)

So, here's a post by Sekar, with his pictures as well!

(Click on any of the photos for a more detailed, enlarged view.)

There are few places I have visited blind, as it were. Usually there are photographs I have seen, at times I have read a travelogue or history, and in these days where the internet is an outpouring of information, dipping into both official and personal websites before a trip has become as much a part of the trip as the actual travel.

With Petra, there was the memory of two movies, as well.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was fun, an Indian masala movie in the western idiom, with special effects well beyond what Bollywood was capable of and a memorable climax which I learnt later was filmed at Petra. The sandstone cliffs and the Treasury were striking and filed away in my memory for possible followup later.
The second movie was Lawrence of Arabia. I had seen it as a child. Peter O'Toole's performance was powerful enough to stay in my memory along with the siege of Aqaba and a few other scenes. So much so that I was motivated to search for Aqaba in an atlas. I never found it – Aqaba was too insignificant to merit inclusion – and eventually concluded that I had misheard and that they must have been talking about Addis Ababa (which I did find) instead. Never mind that this meant stretching the geography a bit. 'Lawrence' was restored many years later and I duly made the pilgrimage to watch Lean's masterpiece in 70mm and surround sound. O'Toole was as impressive as I had remembered and the movie even more so. The stunning desert vistas around Wadi Rum, spectacular in 70mm, really took my breath away.

My sister had visited Petra some months earlier. Her account and the photographs she had sent us tempered my expectations. Yes, the setting was very special and the Treasury every bit as spectacular as the photographs and Indiana Jones suggested. What seemed incongruous, though, were her photographs of the shops clustering around the entrance, their signboards garishly proclaiming the Indiana Jones connection. I was half expecting what we normally see in India – the aesthetics of a bygone era juxtaposed with an in-your-face, ugly, modernity. Minus some of the crowds, dirt and noise.

I was pleasantly surprised.

Petra is some 300 kms south of Amman. We soon left the hills of Amman behind and found ourselves surrounded by largely featureless desert. Some hills dotted the distance, there was little vegetation and only the tall, wind blown swirls of sand broke the monotony. I had half hoped for some pale imitation of Wadi Rum, but no luck: the desert was not giving up its jewels to casual passers by. Featureless settlements had come up around the few crossroads, each with an oil-stained garage, a shop or two, a very basic restaurant and some windowed concrete blocks that served as houses. Amman itself was spick and span: these wayside hamlets were shabby and run down, though, outposts uninviting even in the midst of the dreary sands.

The Silk Road Hotel - terrific location, large rooms, but less said about the food the better!

We turned off the main road (which went on to Aqaba – THE Aqaba) and were soon among rolling hills with attempts at plantations and agriculture evident on the odd hillside. The road wound through the hills and suddenly, abruptly, we were dropping steeply into a valley. Sandstone bluffs stood out from the hills and hotels, restaurants and shops hemmed the road in. This was clearly tourist country. We wound our way down through traffic to our hotel, the Silk Road Hotel, wonderfully located by the entrance to the Petra site.

Indiana Jones was there all right, but was not the overwhelming presence I had expected. The visitors center blended well into the surroundings, the shops stocked with the things tourists looked for (water, caps, souvenirs, camera essentials) stood off to one side with Indy beckoning discreetly. The place was clean and people helpful. Warned to be back before dark, we set off down the path to the site. We walked down a shallow valley under clear blue skies, the barren hillsides glowing in the evening sun and some sandstone outcroppings giving us a glimpse of what was to come.

The walk from the visitor's centre to the entrance of the Siq
Much of what remains at Petra is a necropolis. The caves and structures carved out of the sandstone are mostly tombs. Of the city that thrived for several centuries, we can only see the remnants of a colonnaded street, a ceremonial arch and the ruins of several temples, only one of whose walls partially survived an earthquake which brought ruin to the city. No houses, palaces, baths or anything else survive. It is likely that most lesser structures were built of far less durable materials and either perished in the earthquakes which spelt Petra's doom or to looters once the city was abandoned.

The camels we saw squatted contentedly, chewing the cud and pretending to look wise
The donkeys hung around forlornly, looking stupid and bursting into loud hee-haws at random moments.

We visited in early June, towards the end of the tourist season. It was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Visitors have the choice of riding a horse, a donkey or being pulled in a horse drawn buggy, and once at the Treasury, camels are available as well for the ultimate authentic desert experience.

The Siq - water channels carved into the walls

The Siq narrows, hiding the treasure at the end of it

We walked. Despite the groups of tourists making their way back, despite the riders on horseback racing back and forth looking for custom, despite the cluster of shops at the entrance to the Siq – the long canyon that winds its way to the Treasury and the rest of Petra – there was this sense of timelessness. We were walking into the past.

Petra, ultimately, was all about water. We passed dry waterways as we entered the Siq. In the Siq itself, water channels were carved into the rock. At various places, openings were dammed and the water flow managed. Petra grew at the crossroads of several ancient trade routes that criss-crossed the Arabian desert. Water, and its inhabitants' ability to manage it, allowed it to grow and assume importance. We saw plenty of evidence of this as the canyon walls closed in on us. Fantastically coloured and contoured sandstone rose in jagged walls above us. At places we could barely walk three abreast, at others the passageway opened up, allowing glimpses of sky, the odd plant that had struck roots in unlikely crevices and painted earth where the sun caught the rocks' dizzying colours. Patches of two thousand year old paving forced us to walk with care. We felt like explorers.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, after more than a kilometer of random meandering, the Siq opens up. Ahead, carved into a towering sandstone column, is the Treasury (Khazaneh). There are times and places when photographs cannot prepare you for the real thing, when the real overwhelms the imagination. The Treasury is one such. Classical perfection almost untouched by time.
Al Khazneh, as you emerge from the Siq

The lower half - Al Khazneh
The upper half. This was carved first. All rock carvings in Petra are believed to be top-down
The inner, now bare chamber

The Treasury is actually a tomb. There are signs that the walls were originally ornamented, that there was more to it than just rooms carved into the rock. But what remains is hugely impressive. The smooth walls, the soaring, colonnaded entrance, the decorative carvings, all hewn out of solid rock, take our breath away. We lingered, wanting to make the moment last, unwilling to pull ourselves away from this place. For it was not just this structure, but the entire setting around us. We were in a broad cul de sac, blocked off at one end by a wall of sandstone broken only by a couple of fissures snaking their way up. A narrow break on one side was the Siq. Across it rose the Treasury. Away from the cul de sac, the canyon opened up and curved away, leading down to the rest of Petra's treasures. The twenty first century had become a distant thought; the ancient canyon walls spoke louder than our cameras, plastic water bottles and backpacks.

Evening was nigh, though, and we had to move on.

Petra does not ration out its treasures. There was something everywhere we looked: a tomb, steps leading into the hills, facades, more tombs and, our final stop for the day, an entire amphitheater, large enough to seat several thousands, carved out of solid rock.
The amphitheatre
Here and there were more of those phantasmagorical colours and patterns, completely unreal, nature's surprises for us jaded urbanites. People had lived here once, they had done mundane things and had worked hard carving these wonders out of unforgiving rock. Their lives, their ways, their thoughts have all vanished and we are left thankful that they left some lasting imprint that has cheated time.

Tomb of Uneishu, opposite the theatre. Look to the upper part of the hill.
Street of Facades - multi-storey necropolis

The shadows were lengthening and we needed to get back. It was uphill all the way back and we were ravenous as we sat down to dinner at a streetside restaurant just outside our hotel. The town was quiet, with little traffic. Many visitors to Petra are day trippers from Amman and they had left with their large tour buses. Those staying at the fancy places did not venture out. Budget tourists and some hopeful shopkeepers stood around, snatches of conversation floated up into the cool night, Petra bedded down for the night.

We had a flight to catch from Amman the next afternoon and wanted to make an early start, taking in as much more of Petra as we could before heading back to the airport. The hotel had promised a 6.30AM breakfast. We were at the restaurant at 6.30 along with a fellow tourist with similar ideas. An empty restaurant and a row of empty food heaters greeted us. Silence prevailed. We knew we were going to be delayed, but the row of heaters suggested a substantial breakfast. We sat and waited in anticipation. Someone finally emerged with a plate of toast and dumped it in one of the heaters. We waited some more and it became evident that the Silk Road was not planning to pamper us with a lavish breakfast. We grumpily made what we could of an unpromising situation and set off once more.

Dawn and dusk are cut and dried events in the desert. There are no lingering clouds and haze to soften the transition. The sun comes up and that's it: daylight is on you.
Beyond the amphitheatre, in the morning light


Walking past the amphitheater, we came to a row of tombs situated up on the hillside. Seen from a distance it was almost as though someone had constructed wax models based on the Treasury and then partially melted them. Unlike the Treasury which was sheltered from the wind and the sand in its canyon, these were exposed and two millenia worth of erosion had worn away the smooth walls, the carvings on the pediments and much else. Like abandoned houses, they looked on with blank and unstaring eyes as time took its toll, reducing grandeur to mere shadows of a better past.
The massive Urn Tomb, from ground level
The Urn Tomb, from the terrace
The Corinthian tomb, next door

We made our way up the hillside, and as we got closer the scale of these tombs became apparent. Up close, we had a much better sense of what these structures must have been like in their prime. Some were larger and much more ambitious than even the Treasury. Erosion had exposed the rocks' striking colours and the overall effect took our collective breaths away. Here, we also had a sense of location. The broad valley that lay before us was surrounded by hills and was well protected. We were in the desert – the sand, the lack of vegetation, the rocky sandstone outcrops, the dry air and clear skies all evidenced this – but in a relatively secluded, sheltered corner of the desert. Add the water and the Nabateans had chosen well.
Looking across the valley from the tombs
Below, we could see the remnants of a colonnaded road. Shops must have lined the road at one point, with a covered walkway supported by the columns providing shelter from the harsh sun. Remnants of temples - roofs, columns and walls missing - stood on either side. One - the South temple - was being restored and the scale of what had been was astonishing. Along with the ceremonial archway which framed the far end of the road, the feel was that of a Roman ruin, much like Jerash in northern Jordan.
The road, far below that led to the free-standing ruins
The colonnaded road, being gradually restored
The South Temple
On the far side of the archway was the only freestanding structure - the Qasr al Bint - that had survived the last of the earthquakes that, along with the loss of water, eventually led to Petra's abandonment. The roof had collapsed, but the walls, while damaged, still stood. This had been a temple and, as with so much else we saw at Petra, the scale of the temple and the imagination that had gone into its conception boggled the mind. We take progress for granted as also the notion that man's creations improve with time. These ruins, some two thousand years old, made us realize just how far mankind had come at the time of their creation and put our current situation in some sort of perspective.

The Monumental Arch
The south Temple - upper level
Qasr-al-Bint

Columns line a tomb
Roman-style amphitheatre
Tomb of the ObelisksPetra was a crossroads and its architecture was influenced by many of those who must have stopped by. There are obelisks reminiscent of Egypt, Roman amphitheaters, Greek columns and much else. Today's visitors come from further afield and leave their imprints in different ways. An old man had chosen a shady spot on the path we had climbed to display his wares. Trinkets and earrings, refrigerator magnets, coins and stones were all spread out before him and he called me over. These, he said in a conspiratorial whisper pointing to one pile, are Chinese fakes, and these, pointing this time to an adjacent pile, are genuine antiques. They looked identical. He didn't look in the least put out when I declined his custom and cheerfully waved as I left.

Time was running short. Two days, perhaps three, were needed to see all of Petra at leisure. We had hurried through as much as we could and as we walked back past the growing crowds we turned to take a last look at the monuments, stark in the mid morning sun, and somehow brought to life by the presence of humans, the canyons and caves once more echoing to the sounds of voices and passing feet.

The Monumental gate in the foreground. The bulk of the Al Khubtah mountains in the rear, with the line of carved tombs

Petra and history were a world away that night as we waited under the cold lights of Dubai's newest terminal for our flight back to Madras. Time and geography have strange ways of dealing with reality. Sitting in twenty first century Dubai, Petra felt unreal, a dream almost. We couldn't help wondering what, if anything, would remain of modern Dubai two thousand years hence. Petra would still be there, though. A little the worse for wear, but there, nonetheless.


Dead Sea ramble here.

Neem ka Thana memories

October 1995

Oh for the good old days!

The Taregna eclipse was not a patch on the fun we had during the 1995 October eclipse. It was Doordarshan's first live coverage of a total solar eclipse, and the centre of action was the little Rajasthani town of Neem ka Thana.

The moon's shadow bypassed Madras, so we decided to follow it on the telly. Prof Yash Pal of the UGC was anchoring the show from the studios in Delhi, and they had a remote unit at Neem ka thana. We were very impressed with the set up and excited as well.

Prof Yash Pal of course gave us a scholarly start by giving a little history and science of the solar eclipse and dispelling and rubbishing superstitions and myths of the effects. Then it was time to join the live stream from Neem ka Thana, and thats when the fun started.

The Neem ka Thana reporter was given to poetic and eloquent commentary, and went on about the birds chirping and the light wind blowing, while the cameras scanned the scenery, ignoring the sun altogether. After tolerating this for a couple of minutes, Prof Yash Pal interjected rather politely that maybe they should show the sun as well.

So, the camera did move to the sun, which was still under partial eclipse....but then wandered down again to the crowds milling around, the trees in the background, doing its bit to set the mood for this great event.

Slowly, the professor's agitation increased. At one point he barked,"Arre Neem ka Thana thum totality ko miss karoge, show the sun!" Then, the cameraman again went back briefly to the sun, but somehow his artistic and creative side needed expression and once again the camera moved on to more "scenery".

The good professor then reminded the remote DD team," Poora Bharat dekh raha hai, scenery math dikhana, Neem Ka Thana!"

By this time, my husband and I were rolling with laughter, just short of ROTFL, it was like an episode of Fawlty Towers, with the Prof assuming Cleese-like, over-the-top agitation at Neem ka Thana's Manuel-like obtuseness.

I was also amused at my mother's consternation and clucking, as she was in full sympathy with the professor's plight, not seeing the humour of the situation, while her irreverent daughter and son-in-law guffawed away.

The last straw on the Professor's back was when the cameraman started scanning the skies, looking for the IAF plane that was doing a pioneering sortie in the path of the eclipse to catch pictures at 80,000 ft!

As the commentator also droned on about the IAF mission, the Professor in the Delhi studio finally lost it!

He started a non-stop verbal barrage of the N-K-T commentator and his cameraman, and we just about saw totality as a result of this.

More than the eclipse, the good Professor will be etched in my mind forever. (I do wonder if he ever got invited again to the DD studios.)

July 2009

The eclipse of a few days ago, I watched for a bit on CNN-IBN, which had feed from China, Tokyo, plus a couple of Indian cities and Taregna....all very slick and colourless. Oh well.

The excitement for us, this time around, was that we could see it in Madras as well - we had 62% eclipse - and so my husband and son (who actually came and roused us to go to the beach. This is an event in itself, a red-letter day in our family history, since waking up early in the morning without need is unheard of!), went off to the beach, down our road.

The TN Science Forum - may their tribe increase - were out on the beach, distributing sun-filter glasses to groups of five, clearing doubts of enquiring minds, answering questions and dispelling myths.

There was one lady arguing loudly with them about the rationality of the beliefs, and the science behind it, and soon there was a shouting match between the volunteers and the pseudo-scientists!!

Re-energized and invigorated, father and son returned with the sun glasses, and I daashed off to our verandah, from where I also had a good view of the eclipse. I saw it when it was half covered and waning.

Mr Ramanan went to the Eliots beach, in Besant Nagar, and these are the pictures he took.

Through the clouds - Photo by Mr Ramanan

"We arrived at the beach at around 6am and found that there were already around fifty people at the beach, many settled around the Schmidt memorial. It was cloudy and I did not have much hope of good shots in my camera.

We had done some homework and arithmetical calculations, and arrived at the conclusion that 6:20 am would be when the eclipse was likely to be at its greatest phase. I did not have the special glasses, and so was just looking at the sun and unable to see if there was an eclipse.

When the clouds lifted - Photo by Mr Ramanan

"Around that time, luckily, there was a gap in the clouds, I just aimed at the sun and took as many as 30 frames, continuously. Later on at home, on reviewing the files only we came to know the partial solar eclipse has taken place!!

A chance shot with a blue rock pigeon flying by, Photo by Mr Ramanan

"In one of the frames, I saw that I had captured a flying blue rock pigeon against the sun! There were many of them in the sky that morning.

After that, we waited for another fifteen minutes, but then the sun became too bright for us to watch without protection. A lady advised my daughter and me not to try to take pictures, as I may overload the sensor and spoil the camera, and not look at the sun either.

We packed up and returned home, and my daughter grumbled to my wife, that I am more bothered about my camera than her eyes!!"