We have been going for morning walks ,for the past two weeks.
The route involves a blind road which has wooded areas to both sides. Two large British-era barracks ,abandoned lie en route. The roofs have caved in , with sunlight gleaming through windows, in a couple of rooms ; and the water tanks in the backyard always overflow. The lawn and the yard has overgrown . Thick creeper vines, rope-like, entwine the lampposts, and obliterate the windows, doors, and choke the chimneys .They have also choked an entire banyan tree, its arms raised heavenward for divine help,draped with brown and black ropes, bereft of foliage. It looks quite creepy and hogwartish even in the broad daylight.
As a result, the place teems with wild-life , specially of the avian kind. It has become a virtual birdwatcher's paradise.I had been hearing the chirps, grunts and whistles coming from the bush and the overgrown woods, for quite some time. On a trip to the library , I chanced upon a book titled, "Birds Of India." It was like peeping into a pandora's box. Suddenly , all those beauties I had seen, acquired names, behavioural characteristics and personalities.
Parrots,flashy, noisy, and swooping around in vast groups.A solitary lapwing(colourfully called titahri in Hindi), racing across a field,soaring up and dive -bombing a group of stray puppies, pecking them with its beak, all the while emitting its characteristic, high-pitched cry that sounded "Did he do it, pity to do it,"to my author, and "PA Check up it."to my anaesthesiologist husband. Graceful, silent and meditative doves, love lorn pigeons lost in their amorous goings-on. Chatty and gregarious babblers, vigilant and omnipresent crows and mynahs. Mynahs can be aggressive as they have been seen to raise a shindig at the sight of predators like snakes /cats, those that need human assistance for shooing off. They have been known to have territorial show-downs with squirrels too. Besides, their orange-yellow masks give them a sinister , conspiratorial look.
Lesser visible visitors include a couple of sand-coloured hornbills , that have no truck with the other species. A pair of "teetars" walking along the wall of the compound, disappearing into the brush, never to be seen again. Cuckoos sing to entice you, then sit silently, trying hard to pretend being invisible, when you try to look for them. In all this cacophony, bulbuls , the red-vented and the sipahi variety, sit pretty , and silent on the highest possible perch of a barren tree.
Large and clumsy peahen gather in groups of four or more , on rooftops or come to take a drink at the puddles of overflowing water at tank bases. They are always watched over, warily, by a male , sitting a few trees away, a glorious sight even with its famous feathers tucked away, looking for an opportunity to dance ,like a star dancer peeping from the sidelines at a stageshow.
An owl sat hooting mournfully in the peach tree in my backyard, some days ago. It was noon. When I went to check , it was this beautiful scops owl, brown and white,with its ears raised, trying to catch forty winks. Espying me, its neck swivelled down to give me a round-eyed , disdainful look. By the time my daughters tip toed in to have a look, it had gone off to sleep,it eyes dark tightly shut slits, in the green hued bedroom.The girls tiptoed back.
The route involves a blind road which has wooded areas to both sides. Two large British-era barracks ,abandoned lie en route. The roofs have caved in , with sunlight gleaming through windows, in a couple of rooms ; and the water tanks in the backyard always overflow. The lawn and the yard has overgrown . Thick creeper vines, rope-like, entwine the lampposts, and obliterate the windows, doors, and choke the chimneys .They have also choked an entire banyan tree, its arms raised heavenward for divine help,draped with brown and black ropes, bereft of foliage. It looks quite creepy and hogwartish even in the broad daylight.
As a result, the place teems with wild-life , specially of the avian kind. It has become a virtual birdwatcher's paradise.I had been hearing the chirps, grunts and whistles coming from the bush and the overgrown woods, for quite some time. On a trip to the library , I chanced upon a book titled, "Birds Of India." It was like peeping into a pandora's box. Suddenly , all those beauties I had seen, acquired names, behavioural characteristics and personalities.
Parrots,flashy, noisy, and swooping around in vast groups.A solitary lapwing(colourfully called titahri in Hindi), racing across a field,soaring up and dive -bombing a group of stray puppies, pecking them with its beak, all the while emitting its characteristic, high-pitched cry that sounded "Did he do it, pity to do it,"to my author, and "PA Check up it."to my anaesthesiologist husband. Graceful, silent and meditative doves, love lorn pigeons lost in their amorous goings-on. Chatty and gregarious babblers, vigilant and omnipresent crows and mynahs. Mynahs can be aggressive as they have been seen to raise a shindig at the sight of predators like snakes /cats, those that need human assistance for shooing off. They have been known to have territorial show-downs with squirrels too. Besides, their orange-yellow masks give them a sinister , conspiratorial look.
Lesser visible visitors include a couple of sand-coloured hornbills , that have no truck with the other species. A pair of "teetars" walking along the wall of the compound, disappearing into the brush, never to be seen again. Cuckoos sing to entice you, then sit silently, trying hard to pretend being invisible, when you try to look for them. In all this cacophony, bulbuls , the red-vented and the sipahi variety, sit pretty , and silent on the highest possible perch of a barren tree.
Large and clumsy peahen gather in groups of four or more , on rooftops or come to take a drink at the puddles of overflowing water at tank bases. They are always watched over, warily, by a male , sitting a few trees away, a glorious sight even with its famous feathers tucked away, looking for an opportunity to dance ,like a star dancer peeping from the sidelines at a stageshow.
An owl sat hooting mournfully in the peach tree in my backyard, some days ago. It was noon. When I went to check , it was this beautiful scops owl, brown and white,with its ears raised, trying to catch forty winks. Espying me, its neck swivelled down to give me a round-eyed , disdainful look. By the time my daughters tip toed in to have a look, it had gone off to sleep,it eyes dark tightly shut slits, in the green hued bedroom.The girls tiptoed back.
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