Friday, October 7, 2016

Mamandur sightings

I saw the Blue-faced Malkoha (Phaenicophaeus viridirostris) after a gap of some nine years, skulking silently in the foliage at the side of the road, its long cuckoo-like tail, and its blue eye patch visible through the branches.

Crimson Rose butterflies (Pachliopta hector) everywhere

A Crested Serpent Eagle stared at us, across the farmlands in the evening twilight.

And the Shikra looked a little moody, one morning, feathers all ruffled.  Maybe breakfast was delayed?

What was this LBJ we saw?  it called merrily and noisily.



Ashy Woodswallows (Artamus fuscus), sunning themselves.  Sharp sorties for insect tidbits, interspersed with glides back to their perch.
Sweat-filled walks and sharp sun, but I was happy with these sightings.

The Common Flameback

Photo by Mr Ramanan - A STILL FROM 4K VIDEO-FZ300 + 1.7 TC=1020MM,ISO 125,F/2.8,-1/3 EV,AT 1/125 OF SECONDS
This Flameback (Dinopium javanense) was seen by Mr Ramanan outside his home.  What a beautiful capture of its moustachial stripe, the three toes, and its golden back!

For the last two months, there is one that visits the Terminalia catappa tree outside our bedroom window, and its rattling morning greeting unfailingly improves my mood.  

The tree is so thickly grown that most days I am unable to spot it, so I'm happy for this picture.

The Flameback has now replaced the White Breasted Kingfisher, who stopped visiting when the Millingtonia was uprooted in the storm a few monsoons ago.








Sunday, October 2, 2016

Hornbills, Dandeli, conservation

Looking forward to Dandeli.



A Classic Story of Hornbill Conservation | JLR Explore



The woods of Dandeli are home to four different types of hornbills: Common Grey Hornbill (Tockus birostris), Malabar Grey Hornbill (Tockus griseus), Malabar Pied Hornbill (Anthracoceros coronatus) and Great Indian Hornbill (Buceros bicornis). Of all the four, Malabar Pied Hornbill is found in good numbers in the vicinity of Dandeli.  However, the study done by Reddy and Basalingappa (1990) revealed that this particular population will dwindle if the habitat is not maintained and conserved. According to Kemp (1973), food supply is one of the main proximate factors to trigger breeding in hornbills.  After making detailed studies, Kemp (1976) emphasised the importance of food, particularly during the breeding period of hornbills, and came to the conclusion that food supply determines the clutch size and the duration and timing of egg-laying. The reports of Stonor (1937), Moreau and Moreau (1941), Kilham (1956) in Bycanistes hornbills regarding inadequate food supply are alarming, as it affects the breeding so much that females come out of their nests without laying eggs.
Since the planting of tree species supporting Malabar Pied Hornbills is not a priority of the Forest Department, coupled with hunting by local forest dwelling communities, it is believed that over a period of time, we may lose this species from the region. Hence, there was a need for greater emphasis on the protection of the habitat and also creation of much-needed awareness amongst locals as well as visitors.
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A Malabar Pied Hornbill
In June 2006, I came to Dandeli as Deputy Conservator of Forests, Dandeli Wildlife Division, and was staying in a forest guest-house located on the banks of River Kali.  The next morning, I was awoken by a call; I rushed out, only to see a very beautiful Malabar Pied Hornbill.  There were many of them sitting on a Melia composite tree.  It was truly love at first sight. I started reading about this bird and observing its behaviour very closely.  This led me to the PhD thesis of Dr Sanjeev Reddy and interestingly, Sneha came to study this bird for her M. Phil during the same period.  As my interest and knowledge about this bird grew, I also came across information about its hunting by local communities, with a belief that the meat of the bird has medicinal value and can cure stomach ailments, which set me thinking on how to sensitise people to the significance of hornbills for the conservation of the forests of the Western Ghats.
One fine morning, a group of around 50 higher-primary school children from Tangal School of Jamakhandi Taluka, Bijapur District, came to Kulgi Nature Camp at Dandeli-Anshi Tiger Reserve, for a week’s camp.  I was asked to address the children on the inaugural day of their camp.  While addressing the children, I took the opportunity to narrate the life-cycle of hornbills:
“Once hornbills decide to make a family, the male and female court each other for a while, during February- April, and once the time for laying eggs comes, both search for a nest hole deep in the jungle, together.  Then, the female enters the nest hole and seals the opening, leaving a slit just enough for its beak to receive food from the male.  As the space inside the nest hole is quite small, the female bird sheds all its feathers, practically becoming naked, and makes a cushion with those feathers for the young ones.  She remains inside for 38 to 40 days.  During this time, the male goes in search of food for himself as well as for the female and chicks.  Being summer, the availability of food is quite scarce and hence, he has to travel long distances in search of food.  Furthermore, the forests of Dandeli being tropical deciduous, trees would have shed their leaves, making the bird quite visible.  As the forest dwelling communities do not have any agricultural activities during this period, they spend most of their time idling.  An idle mind being the devil’s workshop, the hornbill becomes quite vulnerable, and is killed easily by these people.  Once the male bird is killed, its entire family gets buried in the nest hole.  Not only this, this nest hole is never used by any other hornbill. This is the primary reason for dwindling hornbill populations.  We need to educate people to conserve hornbills.”
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After this inaugural address, I left the children to themselves.  I didn’t realise the impact of my address until I was called three days later, to watch the children enact a play based on a story written by them, about hornbills.  After I had left the camp, one of the teachers who had accompanied the students asked them to develop a story based on my address, to conserve hornbills.  The children had got together for an entire night and day, coming up with a very comical yet touching story. 
 “A woman emerges from a hut, asking her husband sitting outside and chewing tobacco to go to the forest and fetch some firewood.  The husband refuses to oblige, saying it is her job to get the firewood.  The wife says that the forest guard has warned her of dire consequences if she ventures into the forest to collect firewood, and refuses to cook food in case he does not get it; left with no choice, the husband ventures out. While collecting firewood, he hears the flight of a hornbill.  He follows the sound only to find the bird sitting on a tree just above his head.  He instantly shoots the bird with a catapult, killing it.  With a sense of pride he enters the house and taunts his wife that she refused to go to the forest, while he brought not just the firewood, but also some meat.  This entire episode is being observed by an elephant.”
“The elephant tells the couple that they do not know the mistake he has committed by killing the bird.  The elephant then takes the couple to a tree and calls out to the female hornbill sitting inside the nest hole, asking what she was doing.  The female replies that she is waiting for her husband, who has gone to fetch food for her and the kids.  The elephant then tells her that it was already too late for lunch, and asks if she was sure that her husband was going to get the food for their family.  She replies confidently that her husband is quite loyal to her, and will surely bring the food.  The elephant asks again why she thought the male was so late today.  The female innocently replies that being summer, getting ripe fruits is very difficult, so he has to fly long distances in search of the food.”
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“This conversation between the elephant and the female hornbill is being heard by the couple.  By now, they start realising that the dead bird in his hands is none other than the husband of the female sitting inside the nest hole. They hear the elephant tell the female hornbill that her husband wasn’t going to return.  She denies the elephant’s statement and insists that he will surely come, though it may take some time.  The elephant then reveals that her husband has been killed by a man, at which, the female hornbill starts crying inconsolably.  The man then tries to reassure the hornbill that she need not cry, as he will open the nest and get her out.  The female hornbill replies that she has shed all her feathers and cannot fly; there is no use taking her out of the nest hole.  The man then tells her that he can fetch food for her and her kids.  The female replies that he won’t be able to get the food she feeds upon, and therefore, it is an end of her life as well as the life of the newborn babies.  The female hornbill then says that the man has killed not just her husband but the entire family.”
The children enacted this story so well, that many of us were just spell-bound.  It was truly beautiful and heartening, as they had designed masks of the man, the woman, and the elephant, besides models of the tree and the hornbill. They played the roles to the best of their abilities, in the serene settings of the nature camp.
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I gave this story to a group of volunteers working with me in the Dandeli-Anshi Tiger Reserve, and asked them convert the same into a street play, using local dialect.  The troupe has performed not less than 100 shows in and around the tiger reserve so far.  On one occasion, I witnessed one of the shows at a remote village, Kegdal.  Many forest dwellers, especially Gowlis, were witnessing the play with rapt attention.  I could see tears in some people’s eyes when the conversation between the female hornbill and the elephant was taking place.  At the end of the play, a 60 year old man walked towards the play and held the hand of a lead artist.  What he said that day was truly touching – with tears in his eyes, he admitted that he had killed hornbills, and that he never knew about the life of the bird and had never realised his mistake.  He promised us that he would never kill hornbills hereafter, and also that he would never allow anybody else to kill the bird.
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Today, all of Dandeli is aware of the story of hornbills, and people from across Karnataka as well as the neighbouring states of Maharashtra, Tamil Nadu, Kerala, and Andhra Pradesh come to Dandeli to see this bird. 
One of the editors of a leading Kannada daily, upon hearing the story, carried an article in the paper and then influenced the Chief Minister of Karnataka upon my request, to declare the area adjoining the Dandeli–Anshi Tiger Reserve as a Hornbill Conservation Reserve, under section 36A of the Wildlife (Protection) Act 1972. The area comprises of the banks of Kali River from IPM (erstwhile) to the bridge on Dandeli–Kulgi road, the Riverview Bungalow, Govt. Timber Depot, Dandakaranya Park and the areas around Ganeshgudi.
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A Great Indian Hornbill
The Forest Department also developed a Hornbill Trail to educate visitors and to narrate the story of hornbills.  Almost all the naturalists and guides of the region are trained in this aspect.  On 31st December 2011, almost five years after I had left Dandeli, I boarded a bus in Hubli to go to Hyderabad.  Two middle-aged men just behind my seat were discussing hornbills and the Hornbill Trail.  One of them said that he could not get a good photograph of the bird and was told by the locals that he should return in February, when Ficus mysorensis trees are fruiting, for getting a good image of the bird.  This gave me tremendous satisfaction: what we started in a humble way in 2006 came back to me after five years.  The circle was complete. 
Today, Dandeli talks about hornbills with a lot of pride, and recently celebrated a Hornbill Festival in which people from all walks of life participated.  On many occasions, locals and volunteers called me to inform that many hornbills were being spotted that year.  This is a classic case of protecting an endangered species of a bird and its habitat.
  • author-manoj kumar

    Manojkumar

    Manojkumar is a post-graduate in Forest Genetics and did his PG Diploma in Wildlife Management from WII, Deharadun. He belongs to 1997 batch of Indian Forest Service. His work has taken him all across Karnataka. He served as Executive Director of Sri Chamarajendra Zoological Gardens, Mysore, and as Director of Dandeli-Anshi Tiger Reserve. His area of interest is conservation education and he has been involved in creating awareness amongst school children, teachers, bureaucrats, politicians and media persons.
    Currently, he is serving as Chief Conservator of Forests, Kodagu Circle, Madikeri.

Stone and root at Mamandur

Sri Venkateswara National Park

August 2016.

While at Mamandur, one of our excursions was in to the forest to see one of the smaller water falls and pools that dot the Park.  The large and significant ones are Talakona and Penchalakona, but this one was a smaller one, to be accessed from one of the forest roads that you see being opened up for us.

Overhead is the railway line that divides the sanctuary area.

We moved in, under the tracks, and soon the foliage closed in on us, on either side, the overgrown track a testament to infrequent visitors.

Bauhinia and Red Sanders aplenty, as also Drongos and bulbuls.  Our cars moved along, the gravel crunching loudly.  It was more a SUV kind of track, and our sedans made slow progress.  We could have walked, but there was a time issue, as also a matter of not walking in a national park. And so we crunched on until we reached the head of the natural quarry with the waterfall.

The stone, layered and sandwiched.
The roots moving into every crevice, in search of moisture and earth....
...dramatic formations
....supporting large ficuses

The pool with an underground exit - water was flowing in, but not visibly flowing out

The sandwich face was impressive - and between each layer there was life.

The glossy green leaves an indication of a thriving ecosystem


We picnicked on idlies and vadais, under the shade of this tree, making sure we carefully packed and removed every piece of waste.

And I mustn't forget the flasks of tea, which seemed like the proverbial akshayapatram, as we kept pouring out endless cups in an attempt to empty them!

As we headed back, the drive seemed somewhat shorter, as is usually the case.

Back under the railway track and to the rooms on the hill, and as we moved up, we saw a startled bunch of chitals cross the road in a hurry.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

BIRDING AT YELAGIRI

All these great photos by Mr Ramanan

White bellied drongo - (Dicrurus caerulescens), endemic to the Indian subcontinent
Indian Robin - Copsychus fulicatus
Brahminy Starling - Sturnia pagodarum
Red whiskered bulbul - Pycnonotus jocosus









Saturday, September 17, 2016

The moulting drongo at Mamandur

Drongos (Dicrurus macrocercus)) are everywhere in Mamandur, and after a while you stop paying attention to them, which is a pity because they are rather interesting, fearless and lively birds.

With their forked tails, quick swoops and darts, they are unmistakeable, and their calls are distinct as well.
They sat on the cattle, and on these goats, on the lookout for insects and grubs.
One morning though, this one caught my attention, lurking in the shadows, in what, to me, appeared very uncharacteristic of a drongo - being inactive and shy.

I was convinced it was not a drongo.  Where was the forked tail?  And what are these brown feathers on the rear?
On return, I learnt that drongos moult between June and October, in south India, losing their tail fork!  And this was most definitely a black drongo, identified with the white rictal spot.  The los of the primary feathers had revealed the colours of the inner feathers.

And so it was that I learnt something new about the black drongo.

I am sure by this time, he has got his feathers back, and is probably swooping and zipping though the foliage of Mamandur once more.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

The Changeable Hawk Eagle at Mamandur

14th August 

820 am

On the forest roads of the Sri Venkateswara National Park, amidst the Red Sanders and Aapta (Bauhinia racemosa) trees, the drongos and bulbuls, we had this amazing sighting.


The Changeable Hawk Eagle (Nisaetus cirrhatus)  fixed us with an unwavering stare

slowly moving its gaze away, proudly displaying its crest and the characteristic streaked chest

readying its talons for take off

before swooping off over us, its yellow eyes glinting menacingly.
At that moment, I was glad I was not a rodent or jungle fowl. Imagine that four-foot wingspan coming down on you from the sky.

Found in south-east Asia and the Indian subcontinent, its been a while since I saw this bird of prey.

Bubo bubo vs Bubo bengalensis

Something new learnt everyday



Notes From A ‘Bubophile’



Notes From A ‘Bubophile’

Eurasian Eagle Owl or Indian Eagle Owl? ‘Bubophile’ M. Eric Ramanujam helps Sanctuary readers figure out what sets the two apart.
At the centre of raging taxonomical debates about its true identity, DNA analysis has almost ‘conclusively’ proved that the Indian Eagle Owl is a distinct taxon.
Photo: A. Lakshmikantan. Bubo bengalensis - The Indian Eagle Owl


Rauf Ali refers to me as a ‘bubophile’ and coming from that source I do not actually know if it is a compliment or otherwise. Even if it is meant to be sarcastic it’s okay since my friends have called me worse – owlholic, strigiomaniac and ‘ullu ka patta’ are some among the other unprintable ones. To most people who know me, I would seem to be living in a world of conundrums since I am not at all a birder (though I recognise most species of our region, waders are a nightmare). It is a fact that some of my friends who are keen birdwatchers are more than just upset with me due to my attitude and statements concerning their ‘hobby’. But I find the Indian Eagle Owl Bubo bengalensis fascinating, and would love to spend all my time collecting data, reading up on the Strigiformes or Falconiformes, analysing stuff – in fact, anything to unravel the natural history, especially the behaviour of this fascinating taxon.
Maybe herein lies the fascination for owls – the simple knowledge that nearly nothing is known about the taxon’s behaviour. Behavioural ecology is a tricky term since there are few practitioners of the science of avian ethology in the country, and the thrill and gratification lies in unraveling secrets. Once a barrier has been broken down, a pattern emerges – in some ways science is akin to forensics.
The Indian Eagle owl is partial to rocky hillocks, ravines and the steep banks of streams. Its diet is dominated by rodents, but other birds like doves and even shikras are also fair game.
Photo: A. Lakshmikantan.  Bubo bubo
So what is so fascinating about owls? EVERYTHING! But I’d like to begin with nomenclatural controversies and further conundrums.
The holotype described as Otus bengalensis by Major James Franklin and exhibited at the Zoological Society of London in 1830-1831 was alluded to be a variety of the Great-eared Owl by Dr. John Latham, the ‘grandfather of Australian ornithology’. During the first half of the 20th century, the foremost champion of raptor taxonomy, Georgiy Petrovich Dementiev of Russia, considered it to be a “borderline case between species and subspecies”, and though not conspecific, acknowledged that the Eurasian Eagle Owl Bubo bubo and Indian Eagle Owl were closely related. Stewart Baker, the most controversial ornithologist of his times, in his monumental work of 1927, The Fauna of British India including Ceylon and Burma, considered the taxon to be a subspecies of Bubo bubo and this view was reflected by Charles Vaurie, the American naturalist who started off as a bird painter but developed into a fully-fledged ornithologist at the American Museum of Natural History. Later, the authoritative 10 volume series Handbook of the Birds of India and Pakistan(Volume 3) of 1969 by Dr. Sálim Ali and Sydney Dillon Ripley called the taxon the ‘Great Horned Owl’ and considered it a subspecies of Bubo bubo. In the late 1990s, a couple of American field guides by Grimmett and the Inskipps, and Kazmierczak appeared in print which began a debate on the validity of common names since they called the taxon the ‘Eurasian Eagle Owl’ but maintained it as a subspecies of Bubo bubo. Then all hell broke loose with the arrival of molecular analysis. The breakthrough came with the advent of biochemical methods, especially the present analysis of mitochondrial DNA (mcDNA, especially the cytochrome b gene) by Professor Michael Wink of Heidelberg University and his colleagues. This has ‘almost’ conclusively proved that the Indian Eagle Owl Bubo bengalensis is a distinct taxon.
For many decades, the specific identity of the taxon was a matter of debate among ornithologists and confined to the inner circles. Morphologically and behaviour wise, obvious differences were quite noticeable between Bubo bubo and Bubo bengalensis. Without delving deep into technical keys here are the most obvious differences:
1) The feathers of the facial disc are much longer in Bubo bubo resulting in an indistinct or invisible rim. In Bubo bengalensis the filament-like feathers of the facial disc are much shorter resulting in a prominent dark rim,
2) Bubo bengalensis is much smaller than Bubo bubo (which incidentally is also found in India in the Himalaya) – the revised work of Grimmett and the Inskipps gives the comparative size of the former as 48.5 cm. And 56-66 cm. for the latter,
3) The ‘long call’ or ‘song’ of the male Bubo bengalensis can be rendered as Dr. Sálim Ali put it, “a deep, resonant, hollow bu-bo (accent on the second syllable which is much prolonged).” In contrast, Bubo bubo has “a deep, resonant hoot, stressed at the beginning and dropping at the end” according to the path-breaking work of Konig and Weick. Cytochrome b sequencing has proved that Bubo bengalensis is closer to the African Spotted Eagle Owl Bubo africanus than Bubo bubo.

But the game does not end there since all taxonomists simply agree to disagree and most hedge their bets and statements. For example, Dr. Pamela Cecile Rasmussen, the eminent ornithologist, expert on Asian birds and re-discoverer of the Forest Spotted Owlet Heteroglaux blewetti mentions in her seminal work, Birds of South Asia, that the specific status of Bubo bengalensis “is not fully established”, and Grimmett and the Inskipps in their revised edition inform us that the taxon falls under the category “requiring further research and compilation of data before their justification can be reassessed.” This hedging by prominent authorities may seem to be escapist but in reality is quite justified since when debates rage among the academics, it is safe to maintain a neutral stance while acknowledging the role of molecular analysis in the reconstruction of phylogenies. To play the devil’s advocate: today, the analysis of mcDNA is central to most molecular studies concerning birds but other protein coding genes such as nuclear DNA (ncDNA) and ribosomal genes too have been earlier used to determine phylogenetic relationships in birds. This state of affairs was very poignantly brought home to me when I received a communication from a reviewer of one of my manuscripts who mentioned, “I am not saying use of B. bengalensis is incorrect, but I just want to make sure the authors are aware of these issues as conservative taxonomists may question this treatment.”
Why do taxonomists and molecular analysts get into such seemingly archaic controversies? Fortunately or unfortunately (from the point of view one adopts), the controversies and upgradation of relationships and identities are a matter of ongoing discovery and with the advent of new knowledge, they are bound to reflect the way evolutionary biology seeks to refine its boundaries as per the hierarchical position of the ‘tree of life’. Controversy is normal in the scientific world – even Charles Darwin was not spared the ire of the scientific community, but even at his nadir, he did mention that “the time will come I believe, though I shall not live to see it, when we have fairly true genealogical trees to each kingdomof nature.”
The thrill of owling continues…

Listen to the calls of the owls here: Indian Eagle Owl Bubo bengalensis.
Author: M. Eric Ramanujam First appeared in: Sanctuary Asia, Vol. XXXV No. 1, February 2015.

Owls in Auroville

All The Better To See You With



In and around the Auroville Township in Puducherry live at least six species of owls. Eric Ramanujam offers Sanctuary readers a charming introduction to these birds of darkness.

Some time back I received this note from Rajeev Bhatt, a science teacher in one of Auroville’s schools and environmental educationalist, popularly referred to as the ‘pambu atti’ (‘snake charmer’ in Tamil, because he once helped in snake rescue) - “Here are a couple of photos of the owlets that are visiting my place regularly. I identified them as the Jungle Owlet.”  All I could tell him was that they were young (mesoptiles) and to wait until the parents put in an appearance before positively identifying the species. To his credit, he did so and even took photographs – it turned out that they were Indian Scops Owls. In his defense, I must say that it is very difficult to identify young owls and when I saw my first young Indian Eagle Owl, I did not know what species it was. However, I did not jump to conclusions like an ‘expert’ (a term that one will encounter frequently in Auroville – what will happen if Rajeev stumbles upon the term ‘authority’? – one can only shudder at the mere thought).

Auroville and its Owls

In an earlier article of mine in Blackbuck, 15 years ago, I had referred to Auroville as a ‘city forest’ but knowing better now since I presently work there, it should be termed a township surrounded by a greenbelt which contains a few forest plantations of the autochthonous coastal vegetation of the Coromandel Coast, popularly and controversially known as the Tropical Dry Evergreen Forest. Once an environmental disaster, the wasteland that was the Auroville plateau has now been converted to a land of verdant green, albeit dominated by a number of exotics like Australian acacias and eucalyptus. It lies approximately 15 km. north of the Union Territory of Puducherry (formerly a French enclave) in Tamil Nadu and is well known for its experiments in sustainable livelihoods and technologies. It was started in 1968, the brainchild of Mira Alfassa, a Frenchwoman (reverentially referred to as the ‘Mother’) who envisaged it to be an international township and an experiment in human unity – uniquely, she never set foot on it.
Naturally, once the native pockets of forest plantations began regenerating and expanding, the wildlife returned – among them at least six species of owls.

Small and beautiful
The smallest, commonest and most easily seen species is the Spotted Owlet Athene brama (etymology: Athene, the Greek goddess of wisdom, arts and war, and bramaafter Brahma – the ‘creator’ and one of the triumvirate of supreme gods in the Hindu pantheon). Unlike most owls, it is partly diurnal but mostly nocturnal and crepuscular (active during twilight and dusk). Its harsh chattering calls can sometimes be heard all day. It occurs in almost all types of vegetated areas as well as wastelands (provided there are a few Palmyras or cavities in the ravine walls - in fact anywhere where it can nest) including agricultural fields, around villages and occasionally even within human habitations provided there are some derelict buildings where it can find a suitable hollow. There is even a resident family in ‘the Banyan Tree’, the ‘Heart of Auroville’, adjacent to the Matrimandir renowned for its not very nice exterior facade. Among the owls of this place it is the one that can almost be considered a commensal of humans. I have personally encountered them in the heart of Puducherry City and a couple of nestlings were brought to me on the island on which I live, one of the most densely-populated areas (once a pirate island until Joseph Francois Dupleix (governor of Pondicherry) put an end to piracy in these parts in the mid-1700s). Though it may take the odd mouse or small rat, our studies have shown that it subsists primarily on arthropods – predominantly insects, but also spiders, scorpions and centipedes. During the breeding season in the summer months of April to July, many young fall out of their nesting cavities and it is not uncommon to find some concerned Aurovillians bringing up the orphans. Once they can fly, they are released back into the wild, and on more than half a dozen occasions I have personally watched adults that were not their natural parents, feeding the youngsters as if they were their own offspring.
Slightly larger than the Spotted Owlet is the Indian Scops Owl Otus bakkamoena(etymology: Otus after the Greek word otos meaning ‘eared owl’, and bakkamoenaafter the Sri Lankan term bakamuna for the Barn Owl or Brown Fish Owl). It was once called the ‘Collared Scops Owl’, but that term is now reserved for the species Otus lettia found in the Himalaya, Northeast India and East Bangladesh. Common in forested areas and orchards, it is rarely seen since it is strictly nocturnal and during the day its cryptic plumage blends well with the background of tree barks even when it rests outside its roosting cavity. It is easily recognised by its acoustics: one of the sexes makes a subdued whut which is usually answered by its mate’s whuk; both sexes will sometimes enter into a fast-paced duet when the calls become quite indistinct and unrecognisable (I am still to work out the sex specific call though I do not think that will happen in the near future – it would be a good opportunity for a budding biologist with an interest in avian song patterns). Though small in size, it is the most aggressive of all owls that I have come across – on many occasions when we had identified a nest with an incubating/brooding female and tried to investigate, the male attacked fearlessly, even during the day. A neighbour of ours had hand-raised an orphan that led a completely free existence. It would fly away when the light faded, but inevitably return to its roost in the house at dawn. An unfamiliar person approaching its roosting place would be unhesitatingly mobbed. For some reason I was spared any such attack when I first approached it.
Like the Spotted Owlet it feeds principally on arthropods though its diet varies depending on the type of habitat it occupies. Our studies have shown that in a forested ravine its diet comprised principally of Orthopterans (grasshoppers, crickets and allies), whereas in a forested area on the plateau, termites predominated. It too is a cavity nester, but since it occurs in denser vegetated habitats the degree of competition with the Spotted Owlet is minimal though the breeding period of both species coincides.

The large ones

The largest species is the Indian Eagle Owl Bubo bengalensis (etymology: Bubo from Latin meaning Eagle Owl probably from the call, and bengalensis from Bengal after which many faunal and floral forms are named). It is also known as the Rock Horned Owl, Rock Eagle Owl, Bengal Eagle Owl and Great Horned Owl – the last term used by Dr. Sálim Ali and Ripley, but internationally accepted to be that of the American species Bubo virgianus. At one time it was considered a sub-species of the Eurasian Eagle Owl Bubo bubo, but molecular analysis has proved beyond doubt that it is a species in its own right. In Auroville this species is confined to the ravines and is rarely found in vegetated areas, though in the near vicinity it is found on an isolated rocky outcropping. Over most of the Deccan it frequents hillocks and hilly areas covered with scrub, and it is my personal theory that the species adapted to life in the ravines on account of similar nesting sites. This is one of the few species of owls that is not a cavity nester, nor builds or appropriates nests of other raptors, preferring to breed in bare sheltered areas… sometimes no more than a scrape in the ground. In these areas the breeding season can start any time from the beginning of the year. The young remain with the parents until September or October, until the commencement of the monsoons. The young will stay with the parents until they are capable of hunting on their own. The primary nourishment comes from rodents and hares, though the owls also feed on birds and frogs, with the odd insect, scorpion and centipede adding grist to the mill. It is the apex predator in the ravines and will attack, kill and partly eat other owls and diurnal birds of prey – what is termed ‘intraguild aggression’, the same way early humans and large carnivores competed for the same space and food. This is my primary study subject and since I have written about it in Sanctuary Asia (http://www.sanctuaryasia.com/magazines/features/9894-notes-from-a-bubophile.html) earlier, I will not dwell on this.
A late entrant to Auroville – in fact I first came upon it only in the year 2001 – is the Mottled Wood Owl Strix ocellata (etymology: in Latin Stryx for a Screech Owl, and ocellata from ocellus meaning ‘eylet or little eye’ pertaining to the eye-like markings). This is a rare and extremely shy species, reliant on ‘old growth’ which provides large-enough nesting cavities. The owl’s presence can usually be detected only by its unique quavering ooooo-whaaaa call, usually repeated three times in a row – a call I can imitate quite reasonably and have used to dupe a gullible American one night who enthusiastically wrote about hearing the bird in her report. Strictly nocturnal, it also utters a toot at the onset of dusk. Beyond this, I personally know little of its habits and behaviour.

More owls
A rare visitor to Auroville – I have recorded it just once in Auroville’s flooded fields – is the Short-eared Owl Asio flammeus (etymology: Asio, from Pliny’s mention of an eared or horned owl, and flammeus from Latin meaning ‘flame coloured, flaming or fiery’). Though rare in Auroville, it is quite common during its winter migration in the famous Kaliveli floodplain a couple of kilometres north of Auroville. During its short residency, it can be observed even in broad daylight, usually sitting or walking about on the ground.  Since its period of occurrence is so short, we have not been able to gather data on the species, hence I cannot comment more on it.
One species that was said to be quite common in Auroville is the Barn Owl Tyto alba(etymology: Tyto, from the Greek tuto meaning an ‘owl’, and the Latin albusmeaning ‘white’ and pertaining to its white underparts). This is one species that I have had little opportunity to examine, in spite of it being said to be common. In Auroville township I have encountered it only on a couple of occasions in a ravine and have never seen or heard it in forested areas and human habitations bordering fields, unlike in the Cauvery Delta and other places in Tamil Nadu where it is quite abundant and has been part of ongoing studies. I find this alarming because whenever we converse with farmers in the region they all assure us that at one time it used to be quite common, but not anymore. More information has to be compiled but I suspect the indiscriminate use of pesticides could be the cause of the decline in its population.
As always there is always a silver lining to a dark cloud and we may be able to do justice to this most maligned bird – its Tamil name is ‘chavu kuruvi’, literally meaning ‘bird of death’. Our organisation, the Kaliveli Environment Education Trust, has been working in the Kaliveli watershed, in an area of over 700 sq. km. comprising wetland, fragmented forest blocks and sacred groves, farmland and rural habitation of which the township is only a small part. Twenty kilometres away from Auroville Township, on our trust land, an area of 40 or so acres has been undergoing reforestation for about a decade. We hope we will be able to piece together the natural history of the Barn Owl in this region since there is a breeding pair at the site. But an issue remains – the land is bordered by fields and assuredly the owls must be hunting for rodents in them. Problems and frustrations are part and parcel of the life of a wildlife biologist and I am under no delusions of the success of the venture. But if we can holistically unravel even the minutest detail of land use and correlate it to the diet, prey density and breeding potential of a predatory species we would have made a significant step in the right direction.
Author: Eric Ramanujam, First appeared in: Sanctuary Asia, Vol. XXXVI No. 8, August 2016.

Owls in Auroville

All The Better To See You With



All The Better To See You With

In and around the Auroville Township in Puducherry live at least six species of owls. Eric Ramanujam offers Sanctuary readers a charming introduction to these birds of darkness.
The author has recorded the presence of the Short-eared Owl just once in Auroville’s fields.
  Photo: E. Seshan.  Short-eared owl
Some time back I received this note from Rajeev Bhatt, a science teacher in one of Auroville’s schools and environmental educationalist, popularly referred to as the ‘pambu atti’ (‘snake charmer’ in Tamil, because he once helped in snake rescue) - “Here are a couple of photos of the owlets that are visiting my place regularly. I identified them as the Jungle Owlet.”  All I could tell him was that they were young (mesoptiles) and to wait until the parents put in an appearance before positively identifying the species. To his credit, he did so and even took photographs – it turned out that they were Indian Scops Owls. In his defense, I must say that it is very difficult to identify young owls and when I saw my first young Indian Eagle Owl, I did not know what species it was. However, I did not jump to conclusions like an ‘expert’ (a term that one will encounter frequently in Auroville – what will happen if Rajeev stumbles upon the term ‘authority’? – one can only shudder at the mere thought).
Auroville and its Owls
In an earlier article of mine in Blackbuck, 15 years ago, I had referred to Auroville as a ‘city forest’ but knowing better now since I presently work there, it should be termed a township surrounded by a greenbelt which contains a few forest plantations of the autochthonous coastal vegetation of the Coromandel Coast, popularly and controversially known as the Tropical Dry Evergreen Forest. Once an environmental disaster, the wasteland that was the Auroville plateau has now been converted to a land of verdant green, albeit dominated by a number of exotics like Australian acacias and eucalyptus. It lies approximately 15 km. north of the Union Territory of Puducherry (formerly a French enclave) in Tamil Nadu and is well known for its experiments in sustainable livelihoods and technologies. It was started in 1968, the brainchild of Mira Alfassa, a Frenchwoman (reverentially referred to as the ‘Mother’) who envisaged it to be an international township and an experiment in human unity – uniquely, she never set foot on it.
Naturally, once the native pockets of forest plantations began regenerating and expanding, the wildlife returned – among them at least six species of owls.
A fearless little raptor, the Indian Scops Owl is strictly nocturnal.
Photo: Rajeev Bhatt.  India Scops Owl
Small and beautiful
The smallest, commonest and most easily seen species is the Spotted Owlet Athene brama (etymology: Athene, the Greek goddess of wisdom, arts and war, and bramaafter Brahma – the ‘creator’ and one of the triumvirate of supreme gods in the Hindu pantheon). Unlike most owls, it is partly diurnal but mostly nocturnal and crepuscular (active during twilight and dusk). Its harsh chattering calls can sometimes be heard all day. It occurs in almost all types of vegetated areas as well as wastelands (provided there are a few Palmyras or cavities in the ravine walls - in fact anywhere where it can nest) including agricultural fields, around villages and occasionally even within human habitations provided there are some derelict buildings where it can find a suitable hollow. There is even a resident family in ‘the Banyan Tree’, the ‘Heart of Auroville’, adjacent to the Matrimandir renowned for its not very nice exterior facade. Among the owls of this place it is the one that can almost be considered a commensal of humans. I have personally encountered them in the heart of Puducherry City and a couple of nestlings were brought to me on the island on which I live, one of the most densely-populated areas (once a pirate island until Joseph Francois Dupleix (governor of Pondicherry) put an end to piracy in these parts in the mid-1700s). Though it may take the odd mouse or small rat, our studies have shown that it subsists primarily on arthropods – predominantly insects, but also spiders, scorpions and centipedes. During the breeding season in the summer months of April to July, many young fall out of their nesting cavities and it is not uncommon to find some concerned Aurovillians bringing up the orphans. Once they can fly, they are released back into the wild, and on more than half a dozen occasions I have personally watched adults that were not their natural parents, feeding the youngsters as if they were their own offspring.
Slightly larger than the Spotted Owlet is the Indian Scops Owl Otus bakkamoena(etymology: Otus after the Greek word otos meaning ‘eared owl’, and bakkamoenaafter the Sri Lankan term bakamuna for the Barn Owl or Brown Fish Owl). It was once called the ‘Collared Scops Owl’, but that term is now reserved for the species Otus lettia found in the Himalaya, Northeast India and East Bangladesh. Common in forested areas and orchards, it is rarely seen since it is strictly nocturnal and during the day its cryptic plumage blends well with the background of tree barks even when it rests outside its roosting cavity. It is easily recognised by its acoustics: one of the sexes makes a subdued whut which is usually answered by its mate’s whuk; both sexes will sometimes enter into a fast-paced duet when the calls become quite indistinct and unrecognisable (I am still to work out the sex specific call though I do not think that will happen in the near future – it would be a good opportunity for a budding biologist with an interest in avian song patterns). Though small in size, it is the most aggressive of all owls that I have come across – on many occasions when we had identified a nest with an incubating/brooding female and tried to investigate, the male attacked fearlessly, even during the day. A neighbour of ours had hand-raised an orphan that led a completely free existence. It would fly away when the light faded, but inevitably return to its roost in the house at dawn. An unfamiliar person approaching its roosting place would be unhesitatingly mobbed. For some reason I was spared any such attack when I first approached it.
Like the Spotted Owlet it feeds principally on arthropods though its diet varies depending on the type of habitat it occupies. Our studies have shown that in a forested ravine its diet comprised principally of Orthopterans (grasshoppers, crickets and allies), whereas in a forested area on the plateau, termites predominated. It too is a cavity nester, but since it occurs in denser vegetated habitats the degree of competition with the Spotted Owlet is minimal though the breeding period of both species coincides.
The Indian Eagle Owl is confined to the ravines in and around the township. Interestingly, it does not cavity nest or build a nest, but chooses to lay its eggs in sheltered, bare areas.
Photo: E Seshan Indian Eagle Owl - Bubo bengalensis
The large ones
The largest species is the Indian Eagle Owl Bubo bengalensis (etymology: Bubo from Latin meaning Eagle Owl probably from the call, and bengalensis from Bengal after which many faunal and floral forms are named). It is also known as the Rock Horned Owl, Rock Eagle Owl, Bengal Eagle Owl and Great Horned Owl – the last term used by Dr. Sálim Ali and Ripley, but internationally accepted to be that of the American species Bubo virgianus. At one time it was considered a sub-species of the Eurasian Eagle Owl Bubo bubo, but molecular analysis has proved beyond doubt that it is a species in its own right. In Auroville this species is confined to the ravines and is rarely found in vegetated areas, though in the near vicinity it is found on an isolated rocky outcropping. Over most of the Deccan it frequents hillocks and hilly areas covered with scrub, and it is my personal theory that the species adapted to life in the ravines on account of similar nesting sites. This is one of the few species of owls that is not a cavity nester, nor builds or appropriates nests of other raptors, preferring to breed in bare sheltered areas… sometimes no more than a scrape in the ground. In these areas the breeding season can start any time from the beginning of the year. The young remain with the parents until September or October, until the commencement of the monsoons. The young will stay with the parents until they are capable of hunting on their own. The primary nourishment comes from rodents and hares, though the owls also feed on birds and frogs, with the odd insect, scorpion and centipede adding grist to the mill. It is the apex predator in the ravines and will attack, kill and partly eat other owls and diurnal birds of prey – what is termed ‘intraguild aggression’, the same way early humans and large carnivores competed for the same space and food. This is my primary study subject and since I have written about it in Sanctuary Asia (http://www.sanctuaryasia.com/magazines/features/9894-notes-from-a-bubophile.html) earlier, I will not dwell on this.
A late entrant to Auroville – in fact I first came upon it only in the year 2001 – is the Mottled Wood Owl Strix ocellata (etymology: in Latin Stryx for a Screech Owl, and ocellata from ocellus meaning ‘eylet or little eye’ pertaining to the eye-like markings). This is a rare and extremely shy species, reliant on ‘old growth’ which provides large-enough nesting cavities. The owl’s presence can usually be detected only by its unique quavering ooooo-whaaaa call, usually repeated three times in a row – a call I can imitate quite reasonably and have used to dupe a gullible American one night who enthusiastically wrote about hearing the bird in her report. Strictly nocturnal, it also utters a toot at the onset of dusk. Beyond this, I personally know little of its habits and behaviour.
The smallest and most common of the Auroville owls, the Spotted Owlet’s chattering call can be heard both day and night.
Photo: A. Lakshmikantan. Spotted Owlet
More owls
A rare visitor to Auroville – I have recorded it just once in Auroville’s flooded fields – is the Short-eared Owl Asio flammeus (etymology: Asio, from Pliny’s mention of an eared or horned owl, and flammeus from Latin meaning ‘flame coloured, flaming or fiery’). Though rare in Auroville, it is quite common during its winter migration in the famous Kaliveli floodplain a couple of kilometres north of Auroville. During its short residency, it can be observed even in broad daylight, usually sitting or walking about on the ground.  Since its period of occurrence is so short, we have not been able to gather data on the species, hence I cannot comment more on it.
One species that was said to be quite common in Auroville is the Barn Owl Tyto alba(etymology: Tyto, from the Greek tuto meaning an ‘owl’, and the Latin albusmeaning ‘white’ and pertaining to its white underparts). This is one species that I have had little opportunity to examine, in spite of it being said to be common. In Auroville township I have encountered it only on a couple of occasions in a ravine and have never seen or heard it in forested areas and human habitations bordering fields, unlike in the Cauvery Delta and other places in Tamil Nadu where it is quite abundant and has been part of ongoing studies. I find this alarming because whenever we converse with farmers in the region they all assure us that at one time it used to be quite common, but not anymore. More information has to be compiled but I suspect the indiscriminate use of pesticides could be the cause of the decline in its population.
As always there is always a silver lining to a dark cloud and we may be able to do justice to this most maligned bird – its Tamil name is ‘chavu kuruvi’, literally meaning ‘bird of death’. Our organisation, the Kaliveli Environment Education Trust, has been working in the Kaliveli watershed, in an area of over 700 sq. km. comprising wetland, fragmented forest blocks and sacred groves, farmland and rural habitation of which the township is only a small part. Twenty kilometres away from Auroville Township, on our trust land, an area of 40 or so acres has been undergoing reforestation for about a decade. We hope we will be able to piece together the natural history of the Barn Owl in this region since there is a breeding pair at the site. But an issue remains – the land is bordered by fields and assuredly the owls must be hunting for rodents in them. Problems and frustrations are part and parcel of the life of a wildlife biologist and I am under no delusions of the success of the venture. But if we can holistically unravel even the minutest detail of land use and correlate it to the diet, prey density and breeding potential of a predatory species we would have made a significant step in the right direction.
Author: Eric Ramanujam, First appeared in: Sanctuary Asia, Vol. XXXVI No. 8, August 2016.

Andaman visit 2024 - summary post

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