Joys of Backyard Birding

 

This month we have been birding in our backyard.... well almost, since the birding site is right behind our lane. And an unusual one at that - it is actually an open plot of vacant land that mostly lies undisturbed. Situated right next to the dispensary, it is an enclosed area with very little human footfall. Due to the growth of wild vegetation and tall grasses through the year, the area is preferred by the avian population. 

Many a times it is used as a breeding site. We have seen peafowl, egrets, lapwings, and herons before. This year due to the accumulation of stagnant brackish water, there are waterhen and black winged stilts as well.

During our walks around the neighbourhood, we make it a point to stop by this unusual birding site while it lasts. The chirps and twitters are pleasant to hear, especially in the evenings when the slanting sunlight gives the area a golden glow.

However, while the birds and their graceful flights look great, this swampy area actually points to a deeper malaise within the locality. Local residents are aware of the issues but the powers that be choose to ignore it. Six years of living in the neighbourhood have made us realise that systemic changes are impossible to pull off; the only options are to close our eyes to the problem, or grin and bear it. Of course there are more drastic measures that one may have to eventually take... 

But for now, I am loving this opportunity for backyard birding daily.

Update: Indian black glossy ibis spotted at this site on 15Feb2025.

Notes From The Backyard - II

 

The Sunbirds' Story

Our old friends - the Purple Sunbird couple - returned this year to raise their family in our home again. But this time they chose the backyard to expand their brood. And from all the options available to them in our rather expansive backyard (including a man-made hanger similar to last year's hen chime), the sunbirds chose the bare, flimsy-looking branches of the Laburnum for making their precious nest. The nest was so low that it was at my eye level, and we were scared of potential attacks by predators once the eggs hatched.

The original nest of the sunbirds

Well, nature has its own ways and who are we to question that! The bare branches of the Laburnum soon filled out with new leaves, providing the perfect coverage that was required for the nest. All was going well - the eggs were laid and hatched on time, and the nest was sturdy enough to withstand occasional gusts of wind. Till one afternoon the unthinkable happened.... the leaf to which the nest was tied dried up, shrivelling in the hot loo winds, and fell to the ground, taking the nest with it. But the sunbird babies were lucky and landed on one of our plant pots. All this while the parents were blissfully unawares!

The makeshift nest in a cardboard box 

With the diminishing evening light, we swung into action. A cardboard box was quickly procured to house the nest with the babies, a hole cut in the middle so the sunbird parents could safely latch on, and this makeshift nest promptly tied up at the same place as the original nest so the parents could easily find it.

Thankfully, the parents warmed up to the new arrangement soon and started feeding the startled babies in right earnest. 

But our joy was short-lived as the very next morning, one of the babies got impatient and in trying to chase its mother, fell out of the nest. As we ran inside to get something to pick it up from the hot floor, in all probability the garden gecko had a swift feast. Saddened by the loss we kept an eagle eye on the remaining two sunbird babies.

Comfortably ensconced in the new nest

And predictably in the next couple of weeks they jauntily flew out of the makeshift nest.

The last sunbird baby on our drying stand after flying out 

Another year, another happy ending!

Notes From The Backyard - I

Mango Out, Laburnum In

It is incredible how the passage of time brings about changes - in people and in places. Sometimes the change is quick and therefore more evident, and at other times it evolves at its own pace, slowly but surely, before one suddenly realises that things have changed. The same can be seen in our backyard.

As I wrote in some of my previous posts (that you can read here and here), the lush mango tree was the centrepiece of our backyard. Once that came down, the place looked a little barren, almost lacking character. But it also made the house feel much hotter, with no green canopy providing any shade. So last monsoon we decided to plant an amaltas or yellow laburnum tree in place of the mango.

Yellow Laburnum sapling - June 2023

Though many friends suggested we plant another fruit tree, but given the propensity for termite infestation in the area, we chose a flowering tree instead. Amaltas is also appropriate for the arid climate and clayey soil of Gurugram, and hence a locally viable species.

Yellow Laburnum in April 2024

Its abundant blossoms in summer, hanging merrily in bunches of bright yellow, look so beautiful as they spread a sweet scent in the air. So our vote went to the laburnum.

Purple sunbird nest hanging from a Laburnum branch 

Now barely a year old, the tree is already housing its first nest, all thanks to the sunbird family. Augurs well for the tree and the home, I hope! 🤞🏼🤞🏼

Magical Milestone

Today we completed five years of living in our current abode. Five years that passed rather quickly, I must admit! 

Much water has flown under the bridge since we came in.... and nowhere is the growth more apparent than in the way we have settled into a routine about everything, despite the frequent changes that we seem to face here. And of course, the growth can be seen in the children - from gangly teenagers loathe to changing schools in their higher classes, they gracefully dealt with a pandemic, a few losses, and a plethora of life lessons. And have now transformed into beautiful young adults who make us both happy and proud. But I digress...

Us in 2019

Today, on the auspicious occasion of the harvest festival Baisakhi, we had moved in five years back with dreams in our eyes and excitement in our hearts. Many of those dreams materialised, while some surprises were sprung at us too. But then, such is life - a mix of sweet and sour! 

Us in 2024

As we stepped out on the front porch today to enjoy the rainy afternoon, an amazing experience unfolded. A large bunch of rosy starlings chose to present their magical dance in the sky right before our eyes. 

Watching their mystical murmuration right over our heads seemed like a divine gift to mark our milestone in this abode. And perhaps a portent of things to come... But we all were so absorbed in watching the spectacle unfold that we didn't realise the camera wasn't recording. Such divine experiences are meant to be remembered only by the mind's eye!

A Rookery In The Making

 

Last month on our evening walks we noticed droves of egrets and herons flying overhead in a particular part of our block. It was a magical sight, no doubt and we wondered what brought these water birds to be so close to human habitats.

On probing further, some obvious reasons emerged. The upcoming expressway in the vicinity must have disturbed their earlier haunts due to the construction noise, pollution, and sudden influx of activities. Meanwhile, the shady clump of trees in this part of our block provided the ideal coverage for these birds to spend the night comfortably and undisturbed. Slowly their numbers grew...

Till a friend informed us that the people living in the nearby houses were struggling to keep the area clean. Droppings, dead birds, clumps of feathers, and that peculiar smell associated with water birds made it difficult for the residents to cope.

I researched some more and suggested that the clump of trees should be cut to limit their numbers. It seemed to work for a little while but then they returned. Once egrets and herons start nesting at a site, it is difficult to dislodge them. Really feel sorry for the affected residents but in the process I learnt about rookeries - a colony of egrets and herons.

Their graceful flight is a pleasure to watch every evening. I hope in future we come upon a solution whereby both birds and humans can happily coexist.

Winter Flora and Fauna

The cold has been pretty brutal this year, mostly because we have hardly seen any sunshine. What should have been a cheery first post in the new year actually got to the finish line only because I had done my homework in the last month itself, when the sun was still out and the year-end festive feels kept up my mood somehow.

Indian Pioneer butterfly 🦋

All the creatures you see here have long disappeared due to the intense cold, fog and sunless days. So have the flowers...

But just a month back the skies were so clear and blue, that it appeared every creature was in celebratory mode. Including our national bird, that gave us quite a few grand appearances on our evening walks.

Proud peacock 🦚

While our chrysanthemums were blooming, this fellow would appear almost every day to bask in the sunshine. But once the weather turned grey and bleak, the poor guy turned black and sluggish, trying to warm itself on our front porch.

Garden gecko 🦎

I was intrigued by the colour of its wings, and initially mistook it for a bumblebee variety. Till I discovered it's real identity and saw it furiously collecting nectar from whatever blossoms it could find.

Carpenter bee 🐝

Finally a glimpse of our Lohri bonfire this year to beat the cold. Was a very short window of relief but we made good memories.

Praying for the sun to be out soon and for the soul-withering cold to abate.

Of Happy Endings...

 

This post is surely about happy endings. And perhaps, new beginnings... After all, endings and beginnings do go hand in hand.

But let me start at the very beginning. In mid-February, a pair of purple sunbirds built their nest on a hanging hen chime in our patio. While we watched in anticipation, the obvious never happened. For sometime in March, amidst a spate of untimely thunderstorms, the sunbirds disappeared and wouldn't return to the nest. I'm assuming (from whatever little footage we could see via our CCTV) that a bigger nocturnal bird attacked their nest.

Then again in May the purple sunbirds came back. After diligently repairing the nest, the pair started raising a brood. And this time three little chicks magically appeared one day in June.

Within a couple of weeks, with the parent birds' due care and nurturing, the triplets grew quickly. From pink blobs of flesh with eyes closed, they turned into beautiful little chicks with soft yet strong wings, yellow beaks, and the most shiny black eyes.

The nest suddenly became full of activities - the parent birds' coming and going multiple times as they brought food and groomed their babies, the chicks scrambling over each other in their eagerness to get ahead, and plenty of cheeps as the siblings moved around, perhaps flapping their new-found wings.

And before we realised, on the last morning of June, all three of them flew out, one after another. We could catch only one of them in flight, on camera.

It was the happiest and most heartwarming sight to watch the sunbird chicks take wing. With their pretty plumage all bright, the chicks flew away to new beginnings.

We marvelled at the intricacies of nature, and at how clean these tiny birds had left the nest. As we became empty nesters, albeit with our hearts full! ❤️❤️❤️

The Sunbirds In Spring

 

Come spring, quite a bunch of flowers started popping up in the front garden - roses, nasturtiums, ice, and marigold flowers - to name a few.

And one could hear the familiar call of the sunbirds, with the bright blue of the male glistening in the sun while the female sported a more subdued green and brown plumage. As they flitted from one flower to the next, inserting their beaks in to suck nectar, we watched their antics from the living room. They seemed to enjoy the hanging hen chime in the porch, clambering on to it on every visit.

Then I took off on a three day visit to Bangalore, and returned to find the purple sunbirds starting to build a nest on my wind chime. Of all the places they could have chosen, they found this to be the safest place! Hanging mid air, delicately balanced between two bells, the most fragile nest started taking shape bit by bit.

Day 2

Tiny blades of dried grass, dry leaves and twigs, and a fierce amount of determination went into building the nest. As we watched with awe, the tiny female bird made innumerable trips, bringing in materials and deftly sewing items together with her sharp hooked beak. Watching her was a lesson in dexterity and patience.

Don't miss the round-shaped doorway to the sunbirds' home, or the overhang they added to ensure the insides remain shaded in the growing heat. After all, every species looks out to provide the best for the babies.

Seeing the frenzied antics of the purple sunbirds, and their sheer diligence in building a secure and comfortable nest, reminded me of Kahlil Gibran's words. Words from 'The Prophet' that are not only well-written but very appropriate, where he describes the process of birthing as "Life's longing for itself". 

Meanwhile, this story is bound to have a second part as we keep an eye on the purple sunbirds and their attempts at raising a brood. Stay tuned!

The Mango Tree Saga

The mango tree has always been an integral part of our love for this house. The first time we stepped in to see the house with our agent, the mango tree caught my eye. Green and lush, it gave the backyard a focal point and much-needed character. That it also produced fruits was not of much importance. What mattered was the perfect canopy it provided, given our location in the sunny tropics. 

After we had officially bought the property and repairs had commenced, the agent got the mango tree chopped a bit to give it a definitive shape. I remember it looked shorn when we moved in, and I missed its shady canopy. 

But in the next couple of years, the mango tree became lush again, and its canopy expansive. The shade it provided was so inviting that we spent many an afternoon working on our creative projects in its cool embrace. 

Situated right outside our bedroom, it was also a favourite with the birds, as their noisy chirrups woke us every morning. As we lay in bed on hot and endless summer days, looking at the lush leaves outside made us feel as if we were lying right under the mango tree. 

Just after moving in, we had an amusing episode with a bunch of local kittens who scrambled up the mango tree in a bid to escape us. You can read more about that here. For the first couple of years, the tree did not bear too many fruits. I made chutneys from the handful we got, happy to have gotten any produce at all. But last year the bees were plentiful and the tree filled up with flowers.

Soon there were fruits showing up aplenty in all the branches, filling our hearts with joy. Just the sight of them dangling cheerily, never mind the strong gusts of summer loo, gave us a lesson or two in resilience. 

And this was when the Delta strain of coronavirus was wreaking havoc everywhere. While we also lost loved ones, this tree and its bountiful fruits gave us hope. Hope that life always renews itself.

In June we harvested a huge crop of sweet, juicy mangoes that we distributed to family and neighbours as well. Basketfuls of the king of fruits right in our backyard was such an indescribable blessing!

Then in July that year, the rains came in torrents, filling up the roads and open stretches, and with water entering our houses. Even after the rains subsided, the ground remained wet and humid for weeks. That is when the termites came, making the mango tree trunk their home and eating away its roots. They ravaged the mango tree from its very core, despite all our efforts to fight them. And slowly the tree dried up, its leaves turning a sickly brown. 

We waited till spring, hoping against hope that something may sprout again. But when nothing showed up, finally last month, about a fortnight after we completed three years in this house, we had to let the tree go...

The backyard looks barren now, and we feel exposed and open to the prying eyes of neighbours. It has been heartbreaking losing the mango tree; it truly feels like losing a family member all over again. Such was the benign motherly presence of our beloved mango tree! 

A saga that ended much too soon...

Revisiting Najafgarh Lake

 

This year January saw exceptional rainfall in North India. As a result, most water bodies were full or overflowing. The newspapers claimed that the excess water and longer winter season had attracted thrice the number of migratory birds. So we decided to visit our secret birdwatching destination again. 

Only this year we went in January instead of the February visit we had made last year. What a sea-change we saw! The marshes we had traipsed through last year to reach the Najafgarh lake were all submerged. 

There was flowing water everywhere.... so much that reversing the car out from the narrow road between the fields was no less than an adventure.

An aggrieved farmer whose fields had gone under water shared his story with us. About how the lake overflows its banks every year, damaging crops and destroying agricultural livelihoods. Whatever he said was right before our eyes to see. 

January 2021

Last year we had walked right past, and way beyond, that little outhouse you see in the picture above. To compare better, I have included a shot from our last year's trip below. In last year's picture, see how far in we had parked the car, and then walked all the way to the other side of the outhouse before reaching the lake shore.

February 2020

Coming back home and reading up more on the Sahibi river, and how it affects the Najafgarh lake, one learnt more about interesting aspects related to the history of the region. 

And yes, the migratory birds were not as visible this year because they were far out, and so were difficult to capture on camera. 

Road Trippin' - Najafgarh Lake Area

With the final exams over, the kids had almost a fortnight off from school (except for the occasional trips for farewell practice). Since we couldn't go out of town on vacation, we decided to make the best of our surroundings, and visit a bird watching site I had been aiming to see for a while.

Our first attempt at finding the spot (which was well marked on Google Maps, but was obviously inadequate info to go by) landed us on a secluded bund road from where the birds were too far to see properly.

Then we decided to follow our own sense of direction, and ended up in the middle of lush green fields instead, in the company of a few egrets.

We also managed to spot a lone kingfisher...

... some Eurasian coots and an unknown species.

But the roads that led closer to the birds eluded us completely and we returned back home.

On our second attempt, we fared better and managed to reach closer to the lake that hosts a variety of migratory birds. Driving on kutcha roads and then walking through marshy fields, as a cool breeze blew in the midst of an open expanse, was such a refreshing feeling.

Till our traipsing led us to this sight - a huge flock of geese cackling away, creating an avian symphony in the middle of nowhere.

What a pleasant view it was!

Their footprints on the wet mud of the fields made for an interesting sight, prompting us to imagine them waddling around.

It was on this attempt that we realized that the birdwatching site we were aiming at was actually spread over a large area and had multiple roads (mostly kutcha, going through  fields), leading to different sides of the lake.

So it was back home, and poring over more maps and routes to plan a fresh itinerary. Till we head out again, hopefully soon!