Wildlife Around Me - Hornbills.

Silhouetted against the grey monsoon sky are my favourite neighbours, The Hornbills. They used to live deep inside the foliage of a tree little away from my house but now it appears that they have shifted closer. We used to hear them arguing amongst themselves in their harsh voice every morning but I had never seen them.  They seemed to be strictly following the saying “Hornbills are to be heard, not seen” just like, “Children are to be seen, not heard”. I had been trying to locate them from their call using my abilities of ‘shabdhavedhi’ but had only been successful in making a reasonable guess of the tree from which the noise was coming.

These days I see them occasionally on another tree closer to my house when they fly from one branch to another. My wife said that she once found one of them pecking at our windowpane and was forced to shoo him/her off and protect our property. Good neighbours, as long as they don’t break our windows.  May be they saw the sunbird and the robin doing it and thought that they would pitch in and help their friends in breaking the glass.

 Today I was lucky to find one of them sitting on a bear branch and with a clear background and rushed for the camera. It remained seated as if posing for the picture and I got a decent one considering that the bird was about 80 feet away and that I had to use the full zoom of my autofocus.  Only after transferring the picture on to the computer screen I found that I had got the spouse also! If you too have missed the second one at first look, check the fork right below for a curved beak pointing in the opposite direction.

Happy Monsoon !

I am not keen on celebrating birthdays and anniversaries. I like what the Kannada writer Beechi said when he turned sixty and people started congratulating him. “What is so great about turning sixty? Any stupid fellow who doesn’t die, will be sixty one day”. (“aravattaguvudEnu mahaa? saayadE  uLida yaava bhanDanigaadarU aaguttade aravattu!)

I do not celebrate the new year day, middle year day or the year end days, nor, father’s day, mother’s day or the dentist’s. They make no sense to me.

And I think there is really nothing to celebrate about Diwaali, Christmas or Ramzaan.

What I feel like celebrating is the onset of monsoon. At a time when we don’t know what is in store for us  - what with the mindless environmental abuse we are indulging in - I consider the onset of monsoon is an indication that mother nature has forgiven us yet another time.

Sometime during April- May, the water supply department starts giving out bulletins about the stock of water available in their reservoirs and how long it would last. That makes me fear what we would do if the rains are not on time and if we run out of water? I don’t know what they call the phobia of having to live without water but I have it. My anxiety levels increase with the decreasing levels of water in the reservoirs and when the monsoon sets in it disappears for another year. When I see the rain pouring, I feel like dancing. But I do not dance because, if I do, my family would start praying that it never rains again.

The monsoon is right on time this year and it started raining this morning. I like the sight of drops of rain falling from the sky and pouring out from the tips of coconut leaves. I like the sight of water drops on the papaya. I like the sight of water flowing between the flag stones and collecting in a puddle around the plants in my garden. If I were a poet I would write a poem every year (thank your stars that I am not) but I have to make do with a few drab words that are at my disposal.

So, HAPPY MONSOONS !  (For anyone who cares)