Peaceful exhilaration

Today, I visited my mother's garden for a special reason.  The Horse Tail creeper is in bloom and that is an annual event not to be missed, for it is brief, spectacular and never fails to delight me.

For 350 days in the year, the vine is like a dark green curtain, cocooning my parents from the squat cement wall of the neighbours.  And then for a couple of weeks every year, the vine blooms.  And how!

Usually, the two weeks are in January, sometimes even February, but here we are this year, in December, with a poor monsoon, and some clock in the plant has struck the blooming hour.

Porana volubilis, of the Convolvulaceae family - Horse tail creeper in bloom

Do the bees feel the awe and delight that I do, I wondered as I quietly watched them flit from flower to flower. Somewhere, a honeycomb was being filled with sweet nectar from my mother’s garden.

Exuberant bunches, swathes of white, sweet fragrance, the drama of it all.

The softly falling petals. So much beauty. So temporary. So mortal. In a few days, maybe even tomorrow, they will be a memory.

The wild mallow seemed to keep a watch.

Until next season then, I bade goodbye to the blooms.

Trees in our cities

Watch: Off Centre With Pradip Krishen:News18 Videos



I wish that we could translate this interview into all the main Indian languages and get more people to listen to this simple, convincing dialogue about -

• how we citizens need to protect our forests and tree cover, and ensure better governance and urban planning
• how future afforestation in order to cut trees for development doesn't make sense.
• what is a native species and why that's good to plant
• how plantation forestry has weakened and destroyed mixed deciduous forests, and are continued by the forest dept

And here's another one from the him as well.

Plain tales from the hills

Delhi’s bad air is an opportunity to underline linkages between the degradation of the Aravallis and the need for good legislation.

I spent a considerable part of 2018 driving across Rajasthan searching for specimens of rock to take back as exhibits to Jaipur. Rhyolite, granite, sandstone, ironstone, stromatolitic phosphate, rippled quartzite — these were some of the specimens I was looking for. This doesn’t make me an expert on rocks or mining but I did gain some perspective on the disappearing hills of the Aravallis.

It’s true, the hills are melting away before our eyes. About 50 km before you reach Jaipur on NH 8, you drive past an imposing hill of quartzite looming over a small hamlet called Deo ka Harmara, near Chandwaji. Like a giant cone of shawarma, the rock is being pared away layer by layer and eventually ground into gravel-sized stones to be used for road-building. I have watched it shrinking by noticeable increments each time I drove past and regret that I didn’t photograph it to record its deconstruction in time-lapse. This is not an illegal mining operation, just one of hundreds of tekra outcrops that are being dismantled and crushed for roadworks all over Rajasthan, and no doubt, elsewhere in this country.

Mining is big, easy money in Rajasthan today. The state boasts a long list of valuable minerals hidden in its hills and below ground — zinc, silver, uranium, copper, limestone, some of the most colourful marble in the world, mica, dolomite — but I don’t think that all of these minerals add up to a tenth of what is actually mined in small, reckless, fly-by-night operations. Most of the mining is about relatively less-valuable Aravalli quartzite and granite. Or drive out in almost any direction from Jaisalmer town and the stony ground is pitted and broken by shallow digging for the ochre limestone that lies exposed on the surface. There is no reason to doubt that someone needs to restrain the unregulated digging and looting of rocks and minerals before Rajasthan disappears down a large dusty hole of its own making. But what a shame that it has to be the Supreme Court that steps in and not an enlightened and concerned state government.

Countries like South Africa and Australia, which do a colossal amount of mining have their problems too, but they have evolved policies that address important issues of how to steer a course between challenge and opportunity. It can be nobody’s case that mining is all bad and should be banned — these countries recognise that along with economic benefits and employment, mining threatens to severely pollute and degrade the environment and have created strong regulatory regimes to encourage compliance with environmental and mitigatory rules.

Why do we find it so difficult to do anything like this in India? Part of the problem is a lack of probity and enforcement, because there are rules and regulations in place although no one can seriously argue that the rules have been framed with any serious intent or rigour. Naam ke vaaste is the name of the game.

This applies all around, to every parameter of the environment in this country. Whether we look at the quality of water in our rivers and lakes, at the contamination of fossil water in our aquifers, at the fouling of the air or the stripping of topsoil from fields, at pesticide residues in our food, at natural old-growth forests and wilderness being lost — and this is by no means an exhaustive list — it is painfully evident that India has simply not summoned up the will to enact and enforce regulations to curb degradation. No aspect of the environment figures in the election planks or promises of any political party. Maybe it is foolish or at best naïve to expect environmental legislation to arrive unbidden from our legislatures. Maybe it needs a groundswell of public support and pressure for any of this to happen — just like it needed insistent demand from the outdoor recreational angling community to push through the Clean Water Act in the US.

The trouble with hoping for or expecting significant public support for these issues in India is that they it tends to attract the attention of small communities who are easily brushed aside as being “elitist”. The environment is not likely to attract sufficient support on a large enough scale until its downside effects are seen to impact significantly on health or mortality. This is where Delhi’s filthy air seems to represent a real opportunity to mobilise public opinion and recruit support for a better environment all around.

It may seem tragic and ironic that the National Capital Region’s dreadful plight is seen as an opportunity, but this is the sad reality in India today: It is the first high-profile crisis we have faced that everyone recognises is squarely an environmental one. More, it is seen as having a set of discrete, preventable causes and even if everyone doesn’t agree about how to ameliorate the situation, everyone does agree that it can be mitigated by a set of measures that curbs some things and outlaws others. Realistically, this is how environmental intervention in public life is likely to take place in this country — as a response to widespread public perception and concern by enacting laws and putting in place restrictions in order to bring about change for the better.

It is in this sense that Delhi’s bad air presents itself as an opportunity to underline linkages between the degradation of our air, soil, food and water, and the need for good legislation, and indeed, better enforcement of such legislation. I expect Delhi’s crisis to usher in a new general understanding of how important it is to protect our environment. I expect that political parties too, will start talking about environmental issues. The sad truth is we sometimes need to come to the very brink before we pull back and learn to act sensibly.

Krishen, an environmentalist, is the author of Trees of Delhi

Learning bird calls

Getting Started 6: Learning Bird Sounds – Bird Count India



and this



https://birdcount.in/getting-started-5-bird-sounds/

Pallikaranai plans

Plan takes wings to protect migrant birds in Chennai's Pallikaranai- The New Indian Express

Plan takes wings to protect migrant birds in Chennai's Pallikaranai

The ministry has identified sites in only 14 States and for the rest, the exercise is still underway.

For representational purposes (File | EPS)

CHENNAI: City’s Pallikaranai marsh is among the 11 wetlands in Tamil Nadu chosen under a five-year National Action Plan for Conservation of Migratory Birds and their Habitats along Central Asia Flyway (2018-2023).

Of the wetlands of ornithological importance identified on the basis of existing monitoring information, 29 sites, including 20 major wetlands and nine wetland clusters, have been identified as significant bottleneck sites for migratory waterbirds in India.

In Tamil Nadu, Point Calimere (Nagapattinam), Great Vedaranyam Swamp (Nagapattinam), Gulf of Mannar Marine National Park and Adam’s Bridge (Ramanathapuram & Thoothukudi districts), Karaivetti Bird Sanctuary (Ariyalur), Pallikaranai (Chennai) are the wetlands prioritised for the conservation of migratory waterbirds. The wetland clusters in Kanniyakumari, including Suchindram, Theroor, Vembanoor and Manakudi Estuary figure in the list, besides salt pans of Puthalam and Kovalam. This is highest for any State in the country.

In neighbouring Puducherry, Ousteri lake, Bahour lake and Kaliveli tank have been identified. The ministry has identified sites in only 14 States and for the rest, the exercise is still underway.

Asad R Rehmani, member of Governing Body of Wetlands International South Asia and a former director of Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS), told Express that Tamil Nadu plays a strategic role in entire Central Asian Flyway, which encompasses overlapping migration routes over 30 countries for different waterbirds linking their northernmost breeding grounds in Russia (Siberia) to southernmost non-breeding (wintering) grounds in west and south Asia, Maldives and the British Indian Ocean territory.

“Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka are gifted as not much land area is left past them. The birds that come here have no choice but to stay back. So, the wetlands here are crucial and need to be protected,” he said.
Globally, nine migratory flyways have been identified under the Convention on Migratory Species. The Central Asian Flyway is one among the identified flyways. Flyways are areas used by groups of birds during their annual cycle which includes breeding areas, stop-over area and wintering areas.

“After due deliberations and stakeholder consultations, the ministry has developed the national action plan along the central Asian Flyway. The plan is structured in six inter-related components i.e. species conservation, habitat conservation and sustainable management, capacity development, communication and outreach, research and knowledge base development and international cooperation,” said R Gopinath, Joint Director (Wildlife), Environment Ministry.   

At least 370 species of migratory birds are reported to visit Indian subcontinent, of which 310 predominantly use wetlands as habitats, the rest being landbirds, inhabit dispersed terrestrial areas.

The long-term data sets show that Central Asian Flyway migratory landbirds are declining rapidly. However, the ministry is proposing to formulate and implement Single Species Action Plan (SSAP) for coordinated conservation measures for select important migratory species to a favourable conservation status within India. Twenty such species have been identified as high priority for developing SSAP.

For instance, the number of Spoon-billed Sandpiper, which breed in Russia and fly to India via Myanmar, Bangladesh, Thailand and Vietnam, declined rapidly. The species used to come to migrate all the way to Point Calimere in Tamil Nadu. But last year, only one bird was sighted and it is believed that hardly 1,000 birds are left globally.

The sense of Magnetoreception - the wondrous world of migration

How some animals use the Earth’s magnetic field to navigate - The Economist explains



How some animals use the Earth’s magnetic field to navigate

Magnetoreception helps them locate themselves, which is vital for turtles and songbirds alike



K.W. | NEW YORK



Magnetoreception helps them locate themselves, which is vital for turtles and songbirds alike



COME wintertime thousands of garden warblers, pied flycatchers, and bobolinks—all tiny songbirds—will cross the equator heading south for sunnier climes. It is an epic trip. For guidance they will rely on the position of the sun and stars, as well as smells and other landmarks. They may also use the Earth’s magnetic field, thanks to a sense known as magnetoreception. Theories about it have long attracted quacks. Franz Anton Mesmer, a German doctor working in the late 1700s, argued that living things contain magnetic fluids, which, when out of balance, lead to disease. His idea of “animal magnetism” was debunked and similar ones viewed with scepticism. But magnetoreception has drawn more serious attention in the past half-century. A pioneering study in 1972 demonstrated that European robins respond to magnetic cues. The list of animals with a magnetic sense has since grown to include species in every vertebrate category, as well as certain insects and crustaceans. Some may use it simply to orient, such as blind mole rats. Others—salmon, spiny lobsters, thrush nightingales—may use it for migration and homing, alongside other sensory cues. How do they do it?



Think of the Earth’s magnetic field as shaped by a bar magnet at the centre of the planet. From the southern hemisphere, magnetic field lines curve around the globe and re-enter the planet in the northern hemisphere. A few features of the field vary predictably across the surface of the Earth. Intensity is one variable—the Earth’s magnetic field is weakest at the equator and strongest at the poles. Another is inclination. The angle between the field lines and the Earth changes with latitude, so an animal migrating northwards from the equator encounters steadily steeper inclination angles on its route.



Animals can potentially derive two types of information from the geomagnetic field: the direction in which they are facing, and where they sit relative to a goal. Directional information is the more basic, as polarity lets animals orient north or south as if using a compass. But this has limited utility over long distances. A strong ocean current can sweep turtles off track; winds can do the same for migratory birds. Determining latitude relative to an end point is more useful, and magnetic cues like intensity and inclination may help. Take loggerhead sea turtles (pictured). They swim from the coasts of Florida into the North Atlantic gyre, circling it for years before returning to their natal beaches to breed. Straying from the course can have deadly consequences. One study put hatchlings in test sites that simulated the magnetic fields at three points on the outer edge of the gyre. In all three cases, the turtles reoriented to stay within its confines. Another study, published in April, showed that turtles nesting on far-off beaches with similar magnetic properties (like two on either side of the Florida peninsula, at similar latitudes) had more in common genetically than with those nesting closer by. Turtles, it would seem, can get lost while searching for their natal beach. They may swim to one farther afield but more magnetically familiar and breed there.



Questions still abound. The evidence for a magnetic sense is mostly behavioural; researchers have yet to find receptors for it. Part of the problem is that the cells could be located anywhere inside an animal, since magnetic fields pass freely through tissue. (By contrast, cells that enable the other senses, like sight and smell, make contact with the external environment.) Two theories of magnetoreception dominate. One says animals have an intracellular compass. Another suggests that chemical reactions influenced by the geomagnetic field produce the sense. For researchers, this means more questions than answers.

Inside Nanmangalam Reserve Forest, Chennai’s lesser-known natural gems

Inside Nanmangalam Reserve Forest, Chennai’s lesser-known natural gem 



September 8, 2018 Seetha Gopalakrishnan



Around 40 different species of butterflies have been recorded within the limits of the Reserve Forest. The presence of abundant flowering trees laden with nectar support the population.



Chennai is home to not just one, but two reserve forests – the Pallikaranai wetland and the Nanmangalam scrub forest. Located along the Tambaram-Velachery Main Road, the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest is among the last remaining havens of the ‘Vandalur scrub’, the original natural forest of this landscape.



While it might be difficult to tie the seemingly disparate scrub and forest together, the Tropical Dry Evergreen Forests (as they are also known) with their short, small leaved trees and thorny shrubs indigenous to South-East India are best equipped to survive the local climatic conditions.



The scrub and its diversity



Spanning around 320 hectares, the patchy vegetation of the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest thrives across hillocks and plains. While the plain landscape is dominated by thorny shrubs, thickets and grasslands, the thicker and woodier vegetation is found mostly in the hillocks bordering the reserve.



A study conducted by city-based biodiversity conservation organisation Care Earth Trust revealed the presence of 442 different species of flowering plants inside the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest alone. “The species diversity in Nanmangalam is phenomenal; it is the highest compared to any other patch of forest within city limits. The forest is home to some rare species of plants which are not seen anywhere in the vicinity,” says plant ecologist Muthu Karthick from Care Earth Trust.



The forest is home to 100-125 species of birds in addition to 40 different species of butterflies and close to 20 species of damselflies and dragonflies. Forest birds being very shy tend to nest far away from human habitations. As a logical extension, many of the birds spotted here in Nanmangalam are rarely to be seen elsewhere in the city, making this space a bird-watchers’ delight.



The Reserve Forest’s most famous inhabitant and star attraction is the great horned owl. “A ravine which was once a quarry used in the past for cleaning heavy vehicles now provides protection for these nocturnal predators,” remarks J Subramanean from Care Earth Trust.



As a general rule, the landscape is typified by small to medium sized birds characteristic of drylands. “Insectivorous birds such as bee-eaters and babblers are common-sight here. Smaller nectivores such as the sunbirds and fruit-eaters including mynas and bulbuls frequent the scrublands,” adds Wildlife Biologist Vinoth Balasubramanian from Care Earth Trust. In addition, many waterbirds, local migrants from the wetlands in the vicinity, continue to move in and out of the reserve on a regular basis.



Reclaiming lost lands



In the early 1960s, extensive portions of these scrublands were opened up for mining which massively affected the region’s diversity and ecological balance. The Tamil Nadu Forest Department took control of the area in 1974; mining has been banned since.



Abandoned quarries now serve as receptacles of rainwater, frequented by wild animals and cattle. The severe water crunch of 2017 saw the Chennai Metro Water Supply and Sewerage Board (CMWSSB) identify the quarries in Nanmangalam as potential sources for augmenting the city’s water supply. The plan, however, failed to take off.



Interestingly, Nanmangalam is one among the 23 megalithic sites within the Chennai metropolitan area. Stone-age burial sites, called cairns, dating back to the Neolithic times are found within the limits of the reserve forest.



Attempts to restore and rejuvenate the landscape are being taken up in earnest by the forest department. Decentralised water conservation projects and afforestation initiatives have been designed with an intention to minimise the impact of quarrying on biodiversity and the overall quality of the forests.



Here are some snapshots from the green haven:



Spread across plains and hillocks, the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest is home to a diverse community of plants and animals.





Patches of forest land we see across the city such as the ones within the premises of the Theosophical Society and Guindy National Park as well as the chunk in Nanmangalam and Vandalur hills were once contiguous forests. Thanks to urbanisation, they now remain terribly fragmented.



Spread over 320 hectares, the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest is among the last few remaining tracts of the Vandalur scrub. In addition to the natural vegetation, the forest department has taken up afforestation projects where species of Terminalia, Bauhinia and Syzygium have been planted to augment tree cover.



Trees are characteristically short with thick, small leaves–an adaptation which enables them to survive better in the dry environment. Seen here is a species of Diospyros exhibiting all characteristics features of trees native to the landscape.



As it is with the flora, the birds and mammals seen here are small to medium sized, characteristic of drylands. The scaly-breasted munia along with sunbirds and swallows are seen throughout the year.



The white headed babblers, native to subtropical and tropical dry shrublands can be commonly sighted here. These birds are usually seen moving about in groups of seven, fetching them the common name ‘ Seven sisters’.



The attractive inflorescence of Memecylon, an evergreen shrub native to India abounds with nectar, serving as a very important stop for foraging bees and insects in the forest. Commonly found in the Deccan Plateau, its leaves and roots are known to have medicinal properties.



Succulents are common-sight in the area. Euphorbia of the Ancients or the antique spurge (seen here) along with prickly pear cactii and leaf-less Sarcostemma are among the many drought-tolerant plants seen in the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest.



In the early 1960s, large tracts of land in the city’s outskirts were leased out for quarrying rocks by the government. Ever since the Forest Department took over the area in the 1980s, quarrying has been banned. Depressions left behind as a result of quarrying serve as receptacles of rainwater during the monsoons.



Projects taken up under the Tamil Nadu Afforestation programme have ensured the increase of the diversity and density of plants within the reserve forest. Eucalyptus along with Acacia species have been raised by the Forest Department for rejuvenating the landscape.



Natural slopes and depressions have been identified by the Forest Department for harvesting rainwater. In addition to minimising soil erosion, these ponds also serve as watering holes for small mammals and birds in the forest.



A bird-watchers’ delight, the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest is among the lesser known natural gems of city. Many bird species that are no longer seen within the city can be spotted here in good numbers.

Access to the forest is restricted; permission from the District Forest Officer is a must for entering the property.



Chennaites have to thank their stars for being blessed with two reserved forests and a National Park within city limits. Along with the Guindy National Park and the Pallikaranai marsh, the Reserve Forest in Nanmangalam plays a very important role in enhancing the city’s livability and improving its green quotient.



[All photos have been shared with permission from Care Earth Trust, a Chennai-based biodiversity conservation organisation involved in studying the rich biodiversity of the Nanmangalam Reserve Forest.]

The post-monsoon green splendour of the Deccan plateau

28th August 2018

Raji and I are making our way to Aurangabad from Chennai.  Flew in to Mumbai, took a cab to Dadar Junction, where after lunch and some waiting, we boarded the Jan Shatabdi to Aurangabad.

We were armed  with books, music and crossword, but the views from the windows were so gorgeous, we stared open-mouthed for the most part.

On the Jan Shatabdi, after thane, the countryside was just absolutely gorgeous.

Washed, green, lush fields and streams and little waterfalls.

We went through narrow gorges, a  tunnel and a couple of bridges.

Rolling terrains, and not a soul.

Until we reached Nashik on the western edge of the plateau.

Then it was farms, vineyards and towns.  As dusk fell, we lost visibility, and then it was time to sleep and entertain ourselves.  The show outside had stopped, sadly.

Aurangabad station, the usual chaos, and trees full of roosting egrets.

Hibiscus watching

The Hibiscus

On the balcony

Joyously responds to the July rains.

The audacious architecture of the Louvre in Abu Dhabi

May 2018

It's the month of Ramzan in Abu Dhabi and the days in May in this desert metropolis are warm.  But we are from Madras, toughened by our summer and humidity, so nothing to complain about!

It is graduation time at NYUAD and we are here for Commencement, as they call it.  (Commencement of what, I wondered.)  Saadiyat is where NYUAD is located, and unlike most university neighourboods, Saadiyat is very tony, very upmarket and planned as an art and culture enclave, with the the Rafael Vinoly designed NYUAD campus the first occupants of the island, back in 2014!  With its high line, covered walkways, it is a pretty cool building in terms of design and architecture.

And I am pretty sure the head gardener is from Madras - Copper Pod, Neem, Bougainvillae and Nandivattal are in profusion as we walk through the common areas that have a much greener look than when we were at Marhaba four years ago. 

The red vented bulbuls and doves were present across the campus.

So the Neem flowers even in the desert!

And so we have the privilege of visiting the Louvre in Abu Dhabi.

The day turns out to be cloudy, and we see the dome and complex on our way in to Saadiyat island.   While the Louvre has opened, a Frank Gehry designed Guggenheim is also on the drawing board

Our first glimpse of Jean Nouvel's "floating dome", some 7,500 tonnes I had read!

The 8 layers of the dome create more than 7,000 "stars" of sunlight, filtering the desert sun.  All through the museum we would have glimpses of the water.

OK, so I did peek out of every window and was thoroughly distracted from the art treasures.  I am a sucker for water views.

And I have to say that for once my son showed remarkable patience with his malingering and wandering mother! 

There were windows like this one everywhere.  The architecture does make this museum experience quite different from any other and the outdoor spaces so beautifully include the waters of the bay on which AD is located.

The starry roof, in the day.  When the sun is strong, there will be sunbeams of lights making patterns on the floor - we missed that experience as it was a cloudy day.

This was my favourite view and space

The roof, within the rxhibit area of the museum.

Ai Weiwei's magnificent "chandelier" the Tower of Light, with the roof above

Two tons and almost 35,000 crystal make this art nstallation!

Its a great story in itself - inspired by a Communist Russian ideal Tatlin monument, "Ai’s sculpture reads this history from a Chinese context: Monument to the Third International in the guise of a crystal chandelier speaks of the gap between the Chinese Communist Party’s ideals and the elite’s taste for opulence in real life."

I Read all about it here:  The story behind Ai Weiwei's Fountain of Light at Louvre Abu Dhabi

Up-close

The Abu Dhabi skyline

Sunset views

I wondered whether we would visit AD again.  Maybe not.  But then again, who knows?

(More on the eclectic and somewhat quirky art and museum collections in a  later post, hopefully.)

The Banjh Oaks of Sitlakhet, Vivekananda and Siyahi Devi

June 2018

My Youreka summer.  Endless stories and memories.  

Plastic-free landscapes

Night skies, stars, children staring in awe

The persistent call of the Black-headed Jay

Rain.  Hailstones thundering on the roof

Monkeys on the move

Mighty Trishul and Nanda Devi

Plums, pears, apricots, apples

And the oak groves.

The private estates were kept green and wooded with these Himalayan Oaks.  

Quercus leucotrichophora - the trees, their moist trunks and their canopies -
were at the centre of a whole ecosystem.

All around, any direction, would take you through these oak groves.  Sometimes so silent, I would almost instinctively still my breath and tread softy.

And sometimes, there would be a cacophony - the Jays calling overhead, the tits,
oriental white eyes, minivets in mixed hunting parties, darting from tree to tree.  Tree creepers
and nut hatches would be busy zipping up and down the trunks.

The paths were undisturbed carpets of oak leaves, with their characteristic serrated edges.

Looking up and the undersides of the leaves would be almost white, the reason this is also referred to as White Himalayan oak.  When the breeze blows across the valley, the trees would alternately appear dark green and white, rather pretty.
And, yes, there they were, those acorns that I had read about, the one that the Ice Age squirrel froze for!

And there they were on the ground as well, waiting to keep the grove replenished. Mighty oaks from little acorns grow.  indeed.

The Banjh or white oak, is abundant all through the hills of Uttarakhand at the lower levels, and is important for humans too.  Its one of those trees that will withstand lopping, and branches are constantly cut for fodder, fuel and for timber it appears.  The only problem this seems to create is the removal of too many acorns to allow for natural dispersion and regeneration.  As a result, these groves are now under stress, (sigh!), we take away more quickly and heavily than the grove can withstand.

It seems to be that the Chir Pines are outgrowing the Oaks in Uttarakhand, and this does cause a problem for species that are dependent upon oak.  From what I have read, the beautiful rufous-bellied niltava, which I saw on my first walk in the groves, is one such as is the white-throated laughing thrush, which I would hear noisily turning over the oak leaf litter, as it looked for grubs and insects.

Here is An annotated checklist of the birds of banj oak–chir pine forests in Kumaon, Uttarakhand

Climbing up the hill to the top of the ridge, I arrive at a "T" point.  I would come across the odd local, smiling and hurrying along as I sweated and made heavy weather of the steep slope.  Reaching the T point was a relief, because from then on it was a relative walk in the park, with stone walls separating farms and views down to the valleys below.  The hillside was stony here, and quite often I saw circling raptors above - once it was a magnificent Black Eagle that lazily circled, and I could see the tips of its wing feathers working like rudders, as it glided on the thermals.  Another day two crested serpent eagles circled and called, as a Great Barbet hurried by, and the farm dog barked at my intrusion.

I would stand and gaze down into the valley with a tinge of sadness.  Down below, the hills were completely deforested.
I mused on the sustainability of this development.  

Right through my stay, I did not get a clear view, and everyone around blamed the forest fires for this.  Some 2,000 hectares burned this summer, according to the government itself, so I wonder how much really was under fire, causing this level of murkiness.  

I learnt that the Forest Survey of India FSI has satellite information which now allows almost real-time alerts on forest fires.  And its up to the state governments to make use of this system I guess.

I digress.

I am walking up to the Siyahi Devi temple, the route all the way lined with the oak trees, and a good place to spot woodpeckers and Russet Sparrows;  

The path takes me to the village, with the primary school at one end, and the temple at the other.

The Siyahi Devi hamlet, dominated by the mobile phone tower, as a result of which everyone enjoyed 4G!

Looking down from the ridge - the haze is evident.

The mule train taking goods up and down.

The Primary School was in session and little toddlers were trickling in.

Farmlands

I did not get much of a background or history about the temple, but there seems to be one about the Devi and an eagle that is elaborated upon, in the Talking Myths website.  

And no, she is not the Goddess of Ink, but rather the Royal Goddess!
I loved the fact that one could wander around the temple, right into the sanctum,
 without being stopped by any purohit.

Devotees offer bells when their wishes are fulfilled.

At the north-western end of the temple is another gate, overlooking the Almora valley, and from where one can visit the Vivekananda caves and protected groves.  

Just beyond the temple gate.  In the background is the town of Almora in the valley below,  And the little red Shinto-like gate is the entry/exit into the beautiful wooded oak grove.

Small mandirs dot the protected grove

The sun was going down and the light through the trees was magical and ethereal.

This is what Vivekananda had to say about the Kumaon Himalayas:

"This is the land of dreams of our forefathers, in which was born Pârvati, the Mother of India. This is the holy land where every ardent soul in India wants to come at the end of its life, and to close the last chapter of its mortal career.
This is the land which, since my very childhood, I have been dreaming of passing my life in, and as all of you are aware, I have attempted again and again to live here; and although the time was not ripe, and I had work to do and was whirled outside of this holy place, yet it is the hope of my life to end my days somewhere in this Father of Mountains where Rishis lived, where philosophy was born … I sincerely pray and hope, and almost believe, that my last days will be spent here, of all places on earth. Inhabitants of this holy land, accept my gratitude for the kind praise that has fallen from you for my little work in the West….
As peak after peak of this Father of Mountains began to appear before my sight, all the propensities to work, that ferment that had been going on in my brain for years, seemed to quiet down, and instead of talking about what had been done and what was going to be done, the mind reverted to that one theme the Himalayas always teach us, that one theme which reverberates in the very atmosphere of the place — renunciation! The Himalayas stand for that renunciation.” (Extract  from: The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 3/Lectures from Colombo to Almora ). 

It was a special place, that grove beyond the gates, and I hope I can visit again, to hear the wind whistling through the pines, the dry call of the black headed magpie, the crunch of the oak leaves under my feet.

More than anything else, I hope it remains, undisturbed and magical.