NatGeo is NextDoor

Every time I step out in the morning on a nature walk in my neighbourhood of Dolphin Hill with my camera there is a sense of heightened anticipation.  I have butterflies in my heart, fluttering in excitement.  What will the day put on display today, will I stumble upon a new species? I have to still my mind and tell myself: “do not look for something; just see, observe, be”. But the mind races ahead when I see the roadside lantana brimming with swallowtails and skippers. Though the patch seems abundantly endowed, yeh dil maange more… Greedily, I seek to see what lies just ahead, at the turn. Like the proverbial green grass on the other side, I feel something more exciting is lurking round the corner. Often it does; then again, nothing that this patch would not reveal, if only I stayed on!

 “The butterfly counts not months, but moments and has time enough.”

- Rabindranath Tagore

'HEART, DO NOT FLUTTER'

'The birds, butterflies and bees are going nowhere; they are here and now,' I try telling myself. Though the butterflies are constantly on the wing, they are in no hurry to get anywhere.  Hurry is the antithesis of their existence. Mindfulness is their nature. If I were to take a leaf from their book, I would learn to stay centered and focused.

And when I calm down thus, Nature reveals its secrets as a reward.

Like it happened when instead of one individual of a species I saw a pair of Pierrots pirouetting through the bushes. Or the time when I was witness to a social ritual of mud-paddling of Common Crows (a butterfly species).  One day, I stumble upon a Pale Palm Dart, stark orange against tender greens; on another, it may be an Awlet, its eyes popping out, literally.

A movement in the grass beneath the feet could be a Garden Gecko, a baby, with its eyes still lidded over. A ghost-white Chameleon could be an albino or just a juvenile; I am yet to learn the finer nuances of identification. When I am snooping around the bushes chasing dragonflies, a Grey Francolin may step into the periphery of vision, tantalizingly.  On my way home at the end of a nature–trek, a small mongoose (Asian) may just stray out of its comfort zone catching us both unawares.

There are days when ‘new’ species elude me; instead I am rewarded with a great spot of sunlight that imbues the regular daily scenes with a different hue. I get to see weeds and grasses in all their glory. I discover then that weeds are indeed photogenic and make great portraits or fine art prints. There is something to be said about poking one’s head into bushes, smelling the greens, and watching little life flit about.

OMG MOMENTS

Sometimes, Nature listens to your heart. Like the day when I was praying silently for a vision of a snake. A couple of days before, I had seen a green keelback slink into a clearing of woods on my favourite trail. So here I was, heading to the same spot making a wish. There was no sign of any snake on the ground and just as I was about to leave I saw a golden ‘hawser’ coiled on a stump of tree, a metre above the ground. A ten-foot long rat snake lay there basking in the early morning sun, a picture of nonchalance.

Sometimes, Nature makes your heart listen. Like this day when I was working on a wildflower that was the muse of the moment, with a macro lens. I heard a rustle in the bush behind.  I thought it must be the pesky squirrels going about their game of tag, but something made me look nevertheless. A skink was jumping about excitedly, and only as an after-sight I saw a green triangular jaw strangling the poor dear in a vice-like grip. A green vine snake had it for a meal. It was a “Kodak moment”, indeed, as a friend put it later, only when your macro prime-lens is primed for a wildflower in manual focus at short distance, you need to get your wits about to take in action, further away.

CAMOUFLAGE ARTISTS

On a nature trail or on a wildlife chase, not only does one have to keep one’s senses alert for a movement or flight, rustle or whistle, but also keep one’s eyes peeled for hidden treasures. Stick insects, mantids, grasshoppers (I grew up thinking that grasshoppers were green until I learnt as an adult that they can be brown, grey or even multi-coloured) can suddenly cleave off self-same-shade vegetation. Foliage—fresh or dry—may just come alive suddenly developing eyes, betraying head, legs, wings and a camouflage artist may come into existence.

Like the bug that I saw and nearly missed. At first sight, it looked like a cottony, clump of fabric and I wouldn't have given it a second glance if I didn't think it moved. I wondered if it was an insect. As I tried to pry, the clump rolled down, and it seemed like the wind did the trick. It lay there motionless, lifeless, for a while and I chided myself for my over-imagination, until days later I found the critter in cyberspace as masked hunter bug! In retrospect, I recall it rolled over and acted dead as I investigated! Under my very nose it had me in doubt. Go to Pinterest to see these con-artists and you’ll be floored.

Wildlife is replete with con artists and mimics. You’ll think it is some kind of chimera, a joke. That someone is pulling a fast one on you. It is almost as though life-forms are formed that minute in front of your eyes in an ultimate illusion.  To think that there was a time when I thought I would never be interested in insects because they are yucky!

Nature is an endless treasure hunt.

The excitement of discovering species (rajah, silverline, monkey-puzzle butterflies) for the first time or seeing a 'lifer' (such as a pale-capped pigeon or rock-thrush) not endemic to one's neighbourhood can only be shared and understood by fellow birders and wildlife enthusiasts.  A quote by Ornithologist, Noah Strycker, who recently stumbled upon a new species of Himalayan Forest Thrush, would be apt here. 

 “I once worried that I’d get burned out on birds this year, but the opposite has happened—it’s easy to imagine what it would be like to just keep going forever… If birding is an addiction, then feeding it definitely doesn't kick the habit.” 

Pale Palm Dart

Common Pierrot

Common Crow mud-paddling

Grey francolin

Asian Small Mongoose

Rat snake

Green vine snake and skink

Silverline 

Common Baron 

ALL PHOTOGRAPHS IN THIS BLOG AND WEBSITE ARE THE AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL WORK/COPYRIGHT.

WAITING IN THE WINGS

MICRO LIFE WITH MACRO LENS

When one shutter closes, another one opens.

Like any birder, I started birdwatching by procuring a decent pair of binoculars and a bird guide. This was two decades ago, in India. Then came a time, during my Kenya sojourn, when I would reach for my camera sooner than the binoculars; my birding trips were rarely complete without my Canon PowerShot SX100.

The PowerShot was my first camera and, like a faithful friend, I  tagged it along everywhere. With an effective focal length of 360mm, it served me well for wildlife photography to seal in memories of once-in-a-lifetime (figuratively speaking) safaris. Of course, it fell woefully short in the face of the “bazookas” tourists of all hues flaunted there. Thankfully, I was not shooting wild African lions and elephants with a cell-phone camera like a visiting friend once did!

That is when there was a paradigm shift.

Passionate birders believe that binoculars are all you need for birdwatching. They maintain that a camera is a redundancy, a distraction at best. They believe that in the pursuit of obtaining the perfect picture, birder-photographers sacrifice acute observation and pure pleasure. The keen birder in me sees the point, but the bird-photographer in me has her own infallible logic.

Nobody can deny the immense contribution of photography in recording and documenting vital and subtle information. In many instances, logging of bird-sightings thus has aided in accurate identification of species that has confounded even a seasoned birder. Having said that, bird photography, like any other form of photography is, primarily, a "fine art" and not just means of documentation.

There is a breed of bird-photographers, as distinct from purist birders, that has to compulsively and obsessively entrap birds in its lens-eyes. This breed suffers from an irresistible itch to immortalize the subjects and aims to give it its best shot.  

For a while, I managed with the PowerShot, but soon it lost its appeal and application and I knew it was time to move on to a DSLR. As a greenhorn in creative photography, I settled for a crop sensor camera more out of consideration of budget than desire. I landed an incredible deal in a Canon EOS 700D with a kit lens combination—of standard lens and a macro telephoto. The entire kit cost less than the price of a good camera-body alone; what's more, a macro lens costing nearly Rs. 10,000 was virtually thrown in!  But as is wont with "interchangeable-lens cameras", without an appropriate lens I am still nowhere equipped for birding photography. Reaching for a camera-body was easier; it was the lay of the lens that had me in a fix.

Birding lenses which are super telephotos are the most expensive accessory of all photography gear. Of course, there are relatively cheaper versions, but they are not a patch on the “original” ones. I surveyed, researched, and discussed with friends and photo-enthusiasts the merits and demerits of birding lenses. I deliberated on the possibility of third-party lenses with relatively smaller reach to fit my pocket size, but nixed it presently.

In my book of photography, image quality is sacrosanct. For bird photography, smaller reach is akin to getting to the doorstep of the bird-world but no further. What I have my sights on is the latest version of the enduring Canon “100 – 400 mm” zoom, a technology marvel. But there is a blip between the eye and the lens. For a hobbyist, it is an extravagance ill-afforded, and I don't see me indulging myself; not yet. Of course, if I had my way I would go in for the best prime lens! There is no end to greed and need in photography, an expensive hobby if there was one.

As I bide my time for the perfect birding lens, I am out experimenting with the macro telephoto. My birding trips are now enhanced to being wholesome nature trips. In the process, I have stumbled upon butterflies and bees, dragonflies and damselflies, and chameleons and crickets.  Butterflies are always creating a flutter in Dolphin Hill where I reside, but now I am able to “see” them better with the "55 – 250 mm" appendage. The fresh “eyesight” has brought me closer to these insects-on-wings for I am discovering their habits and habitat, now. As I hover over butterflies trying to focus, I naturally latch onto dragonflies—dainty creatures with gossamer wings—in scarlet and sunset yellows.

With my macro lens, I am unravelling micro life.

After ornithology, I am drawn into entomology.

Birding and photography make for a captivating combination. Among nature- and photo-enthusiasts, birds and birding photography are perched high in wildlife hierarchy. It was my passion for birding that led to photography and that in turn has sparked interest in insects, anew. Delegated to low life, the insects were waiting in the wings for their moment in the sun. In my eyes and lens, they are now elevated. For their part though, they were always content in the knowledge—or perhaps oblivious—of the invaluable part they play in the web of life. 

ALL PHOTOGRAPHS IN THIS BLOG AND WEBSITE ARE THE AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL WORK/COPYRIGHT.

POCKET BIRDING

There are long stretches when I cannot go birding early in the morning, out on field trips. But that does not prevent me from watching the backyard banyan or snatching time to search pockets in my neighbourhood—whenever, wherever. It is like what the doctor orders: when you cannot spare time for a full-fledged workout, take the stairs or stretch in the confines of your office!

A word about my neighbourhood: I stay on a hill where the tapering topography gives me a clear and unhindered vista of the bay by the foothills. My block is also wonderfully ensconced in an isolated lane giving it a fantastical world-of-my-own feel. Precisely because of the vast expanse, it is not easy to spot birds from the perch of my balcao, particularly now in the post-Hudhud (cyclone that visited us last October) phase when the tree cover and the shrubbery has whittled down.

Three blocks sit in my lane and at the last the road curves in a U-turn; there is a children’s park nearby, a patch of neglected woods and overgrown scrub beyond the fence. The other day, saddled with excessive work, I had to forgo my customary evening walk and could step out for a quick stroll only at dusk. Just as I crossed the blocks and turned the corner, I saw a nightjar squatting in the middle of the road right under the noses of the noisy children at the park. I could barely make out its form in the fading light until it took off. It sallied and swooped down to the same spot again and again with a chuk-chuk call.

Nightjars are funny creatures… unlike most other bird species they will not turn tail at the slightest human presence. They stay put mid-road, sometimes at the peril of being crushed under wheels, and take you by surprise if you get too close unawares, before taking off.

I moved closer without unsettling this one and sat on the parapet watching its sorties, mesmerized. It was a magical moment stolen from a mundane existence. Few days later, I set out on the same trail around the same time hoping to see the Grey Nightjar (Caprimulgus indicus)—or was it an Indian Nightjar (Caprimulgus asiaticus)—once again.  Birds, you see, are creatures of habit and routine. Imagine my excitement at spotting not one but two nightjars. A few more rounds and I was rewarded by a huge apparition of a Eurasian Eagle Owl (Bubo bubo) atop a lamp post. Hoo-hooing softly, it peered down at me wide-eyed and for a moment our gaze locked. In that instant, it took wings, and ever so lightly, disappeared into the descending darkness. Birding like this without the encumbrances of binoculars, cameras, guidebooks etc. is ‘pure pleasure’. 

After sundown a new world was coming alive. Nocturnal birds were blinking sleep off their eyes, stretching their wings and embracing the dark. It made me wonder what orgies play out when we are safely tucked in and fast asleep in the dead of the night. Nightlife such as porcupines, foxes, civets, even leopards—who knows—must be lording it over! An aside: In the savannas, tourists on safari have to be strictly inside the safe havens of the resort by 6 pm. Unless you go on a night safari, there is no way of knowing what happens in the pitch black yonder. But once in a while a streak of lightning lights up a zebra herd huddled in the open plains, or a hyena cackles close by or worse, a lion strays outside your room or a hippo by your tent! It is a sneak peek into an alternate world.

Female Blue Rock Thrush 

Some days back, in the morning the park had another visitor, literally and figuratively. Perched on the fence wall was a dull brown heavily streaked bird, a lifer for me. Going by its stance and general appearance, it seemed to me to be a female Blue Rock Thrush (Monticola solitarius). Its unmistakably blue counterpart was nowhere to be seen. This is a winter migrant from Europe and national bird of Malta, I learn. Also present was a pipit, not sure which sub-species (need to cross-check with my expert birder friends). Just a small patch of neighbourhood slightly off the beaten track had thrown up extraordinary and innumerable possibilities.

Similarly, the banyan in the backyard is a transit point for koels, treepies, orioles, besides being home to a pair of Spotted Owlets (Athene brama). From my bedroom window, unbeknown to them, I can pry into their ‘bedroom’ and watch them snuggle up to each other—grooming and kissing.

Who says you need an earmarked birding hotspot or dense woods to indulge in birdwatching! The smallest of space—a tree (banyan flush with figs, mango in bloom or silk cotton bursting with cotton pods), a playground, a modest water body, roadside wasteland, pockets of deadwood and debris (like that generated after the cyclone and still lying about), and of course, a house garden – all can be fertile birding sites, no less. In fact, more neglected the pocket the richer it is likely to be in birdlife.  

One of my most unusual birding experience was at the Tiger Hill (War Graves) Cemetery in Coonoor, Nilgiris in South India. The cemetery entrance was a charming, compact stone building with an arched doorway and lancet windows housing the graves of WWII soldiers. Weeping cypresses and firs towered over the dwarf facade and dry leaves littered the ground providing a haven for lower life. Nilgiri verditer flycatchers could be seen weaving in and out of the gravestones that also served as props for other avifauna. With not a soul around, the place seemed dead, and yet, with plenty of birds, so alive, that it was a surreal experience just to be standing there!

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CAUGHT IN THE ACT

A RESIDENT PAIR OF SPOTTED OWLETS IN THE BACKYARD 

Twenty Years of Birdwatching

                                   

When I came to my current abode of three months – on Dolphin Hill in Visakhapatnam – the green hills seemed devoid of avian wealth. All I was witness to was a countryside trembling with countless butterflies. Swallowtails – as big as the smallest humming birds - suffused the lantana verge; but no birds! Of course, there were the garrulous mynas and the rowdy crows of the garden variety. Then, one fine day, parties of screechy parakeets announced themselves. From the eyrie of my balcao, I almost missed the drab Roller perched on a pole until it took to the skies in resplendent blue - a la Cinderella. Soon, I was toting up bee-eaters, pigeons, drongos, and babblers, wondering where indeed were they hiding earlier. In the hills, unlike in the plains, spotting birds is a tough game. The tiered topography doesn’t help, nor do the cloudy climes that often play spoilsport. 

In the sepulchral silence of NDA (National Defence Academy, Khadakvasla, near Pune) woods - my first armchair birding destination - no trill or tweet went unnoticed; in fact, with no other distraction it commanded attention. Following the sound trail, many times I would be led on wild goose chase, literally, before I finally confronted the ‘ventriloquist’ bird. And thus began a journey into the bird world. Soon, identifying a bird by its whistle or song, sally or stance became child’s play. To my trained gaze, then, birds stood out stark with the foliage and flora melding into the background!

Twenty years back when I first saw - or saw the first - Oriole in the sylvan environs of the NDA, it seemed to me a golden bird out of a fairy land. After years of living in treeless urban-dump, it was the first time I had encountered wildwood. But as years passed and the noob bird-gawker in me became a seasoned birdwatcher, the golden orioles became more visible, more plentiful, like the ‘Rose’ of Saint Exupery’s "Little Prince".

In Goa’s Mandovi Periphery, the Orioles were so commonplace that I would see them every day, everywhere. Golden Orioles may not be as “common” as the crows or sparrows, but they are “common” enough to make it to the list of most common birds of India. Come to think of it: sparrows aren’t “common” anymore, are they?

A Bangalore-based ornithologist recently compiled a list of “50 Most Common Birds of India” on a social networking website to which a dear friend commented: “These are most common birds…I would have thought most of them are uncommon.” This comment is precious not because it is innocent and an inadvertent admission of ignorance but because it is perspicacious. Even many birdwatchers would not have dreamt up that exotic-sounding bird species such as Zitting Cisticola or Rufous Treepie could figure in the ‘commoner’ category’. So what’s behind this conundrum?

After two decades of birdwatching, it still took me nearly a month or more to start spotting birds and realize what a haven Dolphin Hill was! This just illustrates how we presuppose - subconsciously perhaps - that birds should be seen readily and obviously to make their presence felt!

A year back, I made a Powerpoint presentation on ‘Backyard Biodiversity’ for the denizens of Mandovi where I talked extensively on birds. A friend, fledgling into birding, asked me: “Where do birds go at night”? Another real riddle! My answer was the counter-question: “Where do they go during the day? Why don’t we see them even in broad daylight?” For a common man not into active birdwatching, spotting birds is an elusive proposition. For one, not all bird species are gregarious or noisy; many are solitary and silent and unless out in the open or on telegraph poles or in the garden, they easily merge into the elements of the ecological habitat. Camouflage is their ace cheating card.  If we miss the avian action in the light of the day what is to be said of the night?

You see birds when you seek them and when you start seeking them, you start seeing them! On one of my evening walks in Mandovi, as the day drew to dusk and the birds fell silent, I resigned myself to a close of yet another birding binge. Suddenly, as though by a sixth sense, my attention was drawn to a faraway tree by the flank. An ethereal, magical moment gripped me. In the twilight, silhouetted against a tree top was a flock of peafowls settling in for the night. In the stillness of the woods, it was a rare communion we shared that day.

In Dolphin Hill, the other day, as I was walking with a friend engrossed in conversation, well past sunset, I really do not know what made me turn to the distant fence. Sitting bolt upright, absolutely still, the size of a monkey, was a Great Horned Owl! The joy of such serendipity is supreme. That then is the beauty of birding. After a while, you don’t look for them, the birds look out for you!

BACKYARD BIODIVERSITY

PERIPHERY PATH - INS MANDOVI

 A year ago, I went on a trek to Chorla in Sattari taluka on Karnataka-Goa border. This is a pocket of moist deciduous forest overlooking the Western Ghats - a lesser- known Valley of Flowers on the lines of Kaas Plateau in Maharashtra. Kaas Plateau, as you may be aware, is popular with tourists who pay to come and witness the seasonal natural phenomenon when for a month or two the valley is carpeted with wildflowers. I was astounded by the wealth of wildflowers at Chorla, not only for its beauty and novelty, but also because it dawned on me that I had already seen many of the species right here in INS Mandovi! 

INS Mandovi is situated on what was once Mandovi Hill, a lateritic plateau habitat existing since millions of years. This kind of lateritic plateau harbours a variety of endemic species of wildflowers and other flora and fauna. The Mandovi campus has retained a fair amount of native vegetation, even today. The Periphery, particularly, has remained untouched over the years.  Thus, INS Mandovi is a unique, if not exclusive, biodiversity hotspot. This was corroborated by the erstwhile Director of WWF (Worldwide Fund for Nature) India - Goa Chapter, Dr. Nitin Sawant, when he visited the campus.

My daily walks on the Periphery Path over the year have reinforced the fact. Struck by the richness of Mandovi’s backyard biodiversity, I decided to document it by photographing the wildflowers and avifauna. As one passionate about ecology and environmental conservation, I firmly believe that conservation should begin at home, in one’s backyard; that documenting backyard biodiversity, raising awareness among residents and children is of activist importance. This documentation thus spans an entire circle of season from summer of 2012 through showers to the summer of 2013.

MONSOON – The harbinger of natural wealth

In the legendary Goan monsoon, Mandovi wears a green garb. Wildflowers sprout vigourously over the months from July – September such that new species come up in quick succession. We think of these wayside flowers as weeds, and therefore, something unwanted or waste. But give them the label, wildflowers, and it gains respectability, which it deserves!

Many wildflowers such as water willow, sonki (senecio grahamii), touch-me-not (mimosa pudica) and so on are seen during this period. Many of the flowers are tiny, some the size of pea, yet others the size of a thumbnail. For two months after monsoon, climber vines completely invade trees and hug them like a rug. By September, the monotony of green foliage is broken by striking red tubular flowers; these are the ipomoea hederifolia or scarlet morning glory. Another red beauty that speckles the verdure closer to ground is the Gloriosa lily. It does not grow as extensive as the other species found here, and is in fact, few and far between. This is a rare medicinal plant whose value has been recognized since ancient times. Its tuber is used extensively to treat many maladies. In fact, some tribes in Nilgiris use the tuber of this plant as an antidote for snake bites. Once abundant in the Western Ghats, it is now getting scarce due to poaching because of its medicinal properties.

Ipomoea hederifolia

Gloriosa lily

Celosia argentea

Impatiens rosmarinifolia

We also have wild okra - jungli bhindi or raan bhendi (as it is locally known) here. Similarly, wild ancestors of cucumber or melon family too abound. Spiked green lemon-size fruits that look like cucumbers can be seen hanging on the vines. These are not edible, but are an important ingredient during Diwali celebrations in Goa. Only a few days before Diwali, the Panjim Vegetable Market gets flooded with baskets of cucumis prophetarum. I am told that on the morning of Dhanteras this fruit is nipped in a symbolic gesture to officially usher in Diwali!

jungli bhindi

sesamum indicum

By October-November, a short shrub with attractive purple orchid bells reared its head filling up the landscape. Imagine the joy when I figured out that this was Sesamum indicum, the source of sesame seeds or til!

WILDFLOWERS and Us

Why are wildflowers so important to us?

According to renowned Goa-based botanist-ecologist Nandkumar Kamat:

·       Wildflowers are an important genetic resource.

·       Many of them are medicinal with great potential for future research and use.

·       They are a rich bank of biopharmaceuticals and pigments.

·       They sustain certain species of insects and birds.

·       Cultural dimension – painters and poets have been inspired to create classic works of art.

Think of Van Gogh’s paintings of Blue Iris or Sunflowers and, of course, William Wordsworth’s Daffodils, and you will get an idea of its aesthetic value and cultural connotations! 

Here’s the list of wildflowers I documented in Mandovi.

MANDOVI – a butterfly haven

Common Sailor wearing its stripes! In Naval Base, Mandovi

Cotigao, Bondla and Netravali in North Goa may be butterfly-watcher’s paradise, but our Mandovi Hill is no less. Where there are so many wildflowers, can butterflies be far behind? The gloriosa lily, the explosion of morning glory, the scarlet ixora of garden ubiquity and wild asters – all - attract butterflies. Many artificial butterfly parks have been created to attract tourists, but Mandovi Hill is a natural butterfly park.

Presence of butterflies is an indication that the ecosystem is throbbing and alive; that there are plenty of host (flowering) plants. On the flip side, butterflies perform the important function of pollination, thus propagating plants. Therefore, habitat protection is the best means of conserving butterflies.

Butterflies are seasonal. In October, they were visible prominently; late monsoon and winter season is the best time for butterfly sightings. The quality of site-fidelity, that is being present in the same place, day after day, makes it easier to spot or track them. Opposite Sick Bay where the steps lead to the swimming pool one could see colonies of striped tiger mingling with plain tiger and common Indian crow varieties. The Common India crow is one of the commonest butterflies found in all habitats (forests, grasslands etc.). It can be confused with the female of Great eggfly, though. The Eggfly is an interesting species. The female of the Danaid eggfly actually mimics the Plain tiger and that of Great eggfly, the female of common Indian crow. They can have you foxed. As if it were not enough to have mindboggling variety of species you now have to contend with ‘conmen’ butterflies ‘impersonating’ other butterfly species!

Great eggly

Plain tiger

Peacock pansy

Lemon pansy

Some of the common species such as the Common Wanderer can be seen feeding on ixora. Others are butterflies of the undergrowth such as the Common bushbrown. They camouflage well amid dry leaves and twigs. In the dry season, when its eyespots fade it actually becomes indistinguishable from a dry leaf! One of the most beautiful butterfly species seen on the Periphery is the Peacock pansy. Its eyespots resemble the motif on peacock feathers, hence the name. I have also seen the giant Malabar raven in flight. As per guidebooks this species is a common sight in “well-wooded forests”… by this logic we can safely conclude that Mandovi is a well-wooded forest!   

Common Indian crow

Common wanderer 

Click here to see the list of butterflies of Mandovi.


While wayside flowers changed the landscape drastically and butterflies weaved in and out of season, one faunal variety that stayed more or less constant and thriving was birds.

BIRDS – Indicator of Healthy Habitat

Birds are an indicator of healthy habitat in ways that even butterflies cannot be. Birds are the first cog in the wheel of the environment cycle; their disappearance should be the first warning sign that something is going wrong with the  ecosystem. Construction activity in the vicinity can be more disturbing for the birds than butterflies. Thankfully, Mandovi still pulsates to bird calls.

In fact, Mandovi mornings begin with bird songs. The common iora sings its heart out first thing at day-break, sitting atop a tall tree. The magpie robin takes the cue and starts its  celebratory chirrups. Apart from the common birds - mynas and bulbuls, one sees many other species - drongos, bee-eaters, and robins - throughout the day. There are numerous other birds (uncommon to the city-slicker, though quite common here) - from orioles to  bluejays and kingfisher to cuckoos - that make a regular appearance.

Drongo

Cattle egret

The uncommon birds that I have seen here are the Tickell’s Blue flycatcher and the shy Black-headed cuckoo shrike - one of the haunting song.

The Periphery is particularly buzzing with frenetic activity. INS Mandovi is blessed with the presence of peacocks that are the pride of the Periphery. If you see a flock of birds performing fantastic synchronized aerobatics taking off the silk cotton trees during November to March, be sure they are the rosy-starling and chestnut-tailed starlings. The rose-coloured starlings are winter visitors here - migrants which breed in Afghanistan.

Chestnut tailed starling

Tickell's blue flycatcher

When I told some of my naturalist friends that I had spotted green pigeons – yellow-footed and Pompadour - they were amazed as they are rare. We are extremely fortunate to have the green pigeon varieties here. They are to be found only in ecological hotspots like Pilerne Industrial Estate, Goa University campus or Raj Bhavan premises. It is a rare sighting and truly indicates that INS Mandovi figures among Goa’s last pockets of pristine plateau habitats.

Black redstart

More have come in cameos and left their imprint behind, such as the very rare Black Redstart! I was fortunate to see one individual behind the Naval War College building. This bird is a migrant from trans-Himalaya/ Ladakh, so I gather. 

In INS Mandovi, I have seen many ‘lifers’. This is a birder’s terminology for ‘first sighting of the season’ or a ‘person’s first sighting of any bird species’. These are:

        

•  waterhen, that of the water-bodies.
• Blythe’s Blaza (brown lizard hawk).
• grey-headed bulbul
• white-browed bulbul
• sparrow hawk

In fact, almost every day I see new species. I have counted 70 species of birds on the Periphery alone and am still at it! All this reinforces that Mandovi’s habitat health is in fine fettle.

White-throated kingfisher

Purple sunbird

Here’s my list of birds of Mandovi.

SPECIES diversity

Not only is this place blessed with birds and butterflies, but it also represents a wide diversity of insect and reptile species. Fungoid frogs are a ubiquitous presence in the kitchens and bathrooms. Periodically, snakes – venomous and non-venomous, make a surprise appearance in the house, too. In my year-long stay here, I have come across a saw-scaled viper, spectacled cobra, striped keelback and green vine snake, among other serpents.

On my walk by the Dhobi Ghat one evening, I came across a very unusual stick insect the size of a human index finger. Its body was couched in what looked like a tiny bundle of twigs. At first, I thought a small insect was trapped into something, but on close observation, I could see that the twigs were a kind of exoskeleton equivalent of a tortoise shell!

The species diversity of Mandovi Hill is mind-boggling. My documentation hasn’t even begun to touch upon trees, shrubs and grasses! Documenting flora and fauna is a humongous task and calls for observation over at least one-year season-cycle to understand the real nature of biodiversity.

 

BARREN is Beautiful

Only for three months, the campus looks green. The rest of the time dry grass takes over and the charm of the cooling soothing green gets behind Mandovi. But, barren is beautiful. Observe closely and you’ll find that barren is also productive; it is fertile. If barren was not beautiful, the African savannas wouldn’t have been the biggest draw on Earth. At first impression, the African savannas – Maasai Mara – looks like a desert, fallow land. But the beauty of it emerges when you see it pulsating with wildlife.

As months pass and the vegetation dries further, the tangled overgrowth may look messy, but when grasses, plants and shrubs wither and die they get back to the soil and nurture it. The leaf litter helps create humus which sustains viable roots that will sprout again with renewed vigour in the next season.

  

Author’s Note: This documentation is culled and adapted from the script of a presentation the author made to the Mandovi fraternity on February 8, 2013 at Tarang Auditorium. It is born out of labour of love… out of a year’s “walking in the woods” of INS Mandovi. The sightings of wildflowers, birds, butterflies and other reptiles documented here (all the author's work) have been logged from the limited geographical area of approximately 10 km-stretch of the Periphery Path, alone.

Backyard biodiversity is our natural heritage and, if it be rich like it is in INS Mandovi, then it is a veritable museum of who’s who of flora and fauna! Therefore, it is important to document it and preserve it, for posterity.

“Mandovi Hill Periphery Path” is fit to be a “Biodiversity Hotspot, Birding Site and a Butterfly Park” in its own right.

All Photographs in this blog and website are the Author's Original work/Copyright.