The Indian Pitta - A Little Bundle of Colour

The Indian Pitta (Pitta brachyura) must be one of the most beautiful birds in India, with so many colours packed into a diminutive body (19 cms). It has a stubby tail so it looks like someone cut the tail feathers off! More often heard than seen, as it forages in the dense under bush, I have not encountered many in two decades of woodcrawling!

Pitta calling

The first time I ran into this diminutive but colourful bird, was in Silent Valley National Park, some 2 decades ago. Those days, I had an film SLR with a lens that was blind in low light.  It is a different matter that I wasn't even an amateur photographer then. I am guilty of purchasing a 2x teleconvertor without even knowing if it would match my 70-210 mm lens! Consequently the photograph I got was a blurred green lump deep inside a bush!

A decade or more later I had a brief glimpse of my second one, in Malampuzha, but the bird disappeared even before I could say "Pitta"! After that, it has been a long gap of hearing them but not seeing one. Then, sometime last year, I had another encounter with this little bird in Bandipur Tiger Reserve. At that time too, the bird was inside a patch of lantana and the noisy safari vehicle only ensured that it disappeared deeper into the undergrowth.

So, on Sunday the 5th February 2017 evening, when my son and I were going, to what some of us call the 'nightjar valley', the pitta was the last thing on my mind. 

As I turned off the main road into the patch of forest I was forced to brake suddenly. There were three birds on the track ahead, an orange headed thrush right in front, an red-vented bulbul in the middle and another grey-green one further off. All of them were busy foraging among the fallen leaf litter and seemed to consider my presence  an intrusion.

In fact, the orange headed thrush kept coming towards us, without any display of shyness, that it was in danger of being run over!. It was giving us a look that said, "Get out of my way you moron. You are driving over my dinner!"

Then it struck me that the third bird, further up the track, wasn't another thrush. The colours weren't matching!  As realization dawned, I was felt that familiar tingling that I get when I sight a tiger or a leopard because, to me, the Indian pitta is like a tiger or leopard of the bird world, rarely sighted and photographed. I had one in my sights but I was in an awkward position and in any case too jittery to shoot in failing light!

The bird was on my left and my car was facing the other way. I told my son to jump into the back of the car and grab the camera and fire away. After all it is not every day we run into a pitta willing to wait for us! The bird itself was unconcerned by our presence, throwing up the dried leaves and perhaps, searching for some succulent caterpillar or spider under them.

Meanwhile, the orange-headed thrush was almost under my car now and I hopped out to see if it was in danger of becoming a roadkill! It was within touching distance before it decided that I wasn't about to budge, and flew off to some other place grumbling about inconsiderate humans!

While the thrush had me engaged for a little while, the pitta seemed to have no interest in the proceedings. It was hopping about from one side of the track to the other, as it went forward, lifting up leaves and peering under them. It seemed it wasn't having a good day as we didn't see it catch anything. Since it wasn't appearing disturbed by our presence, I asked my son to walk ahead slowly with me rolling along behind him. The pitta had reached the end of the track and turned to fly back but realizing that there were some obstruction in its path, it chose to skirt us and land on a tree behind us, instead.

Now, the car and I were in the way of my son who had the camera. On the narrow track, he couldn't cross to the bird unless I reversed. I decided that reversing the car would spook the bird so I killed the engine and took the camera. As I stepped out from behind the car, the pitta decided to fly back onto the forest floor again!

The Indian Pitta is a ground bird, found foraging in leaf litter or in the under bush. They do roost on trees but make a nest on the ground or lower branches.Their call is a distinctive, two note whistle (whee - tiu) , that sounds like someone is choking the bird! They call at dawn or dusk, and the Tamil name, "aarumani kuruvi" (six o'clock bird) is apt for them. You can listen to the call here on the link from Xeno-Canto. They breed in the north-western Himalayan foothills and central India, but migrate south for winter. They are tiny birds and flying long distances exhausts them and sometimes they end up inside homes or offices!

In the meantime, our pitta decided that it was getting too crowded and uncomfortable for foraging, with two-legged creatures and four-wheeled contraptions running around in its territory. Passing motorists had also started stopping to see what I was up to, hopping around among the leaves on the forest floor! I had no sort of cover and was stepping from tree  to tree, trying to hide as much as possible, till I got sufficiently close. Unfortunately, the dried leaves crackling under my feet as I walked wasn't aiding my cause! The bird flew off again but this time, as if taking pity on us, it landed on a thick vine. The perfect perch!

I positioned myself as best as I could behind a thin tree, hoping it would hide my bulges! The bird was getting skittish with all the disturbance and I did not want to spoil its dinner any more than I already had. Cranking up the ISO, ( I had no time to dig out my monopod) I clicked as it posed for me, in all possible angles. Profile view, rear view and front view; I couldn't have asked for more.

I had finally got my pitta. An unexpected bonus, on my search for more nightjars, in Malampuzha. So tiny but packed with so many colours. In Sri Lanka, apparently, they interpret its call as a complaint by the bird of the theft of its clothes by a peacock! ("The Sinhalese interpretation of its call is that the bird is complaining about the theft of its dress by a peacock: “Evith giya, evith giya, ayith kiyannam, methe budun buduwana vita ayith kiyannam,” which translates as: “Came and went! Came and went! I’ll still be complaining when the next Buddha comes! I’ll still be complaining!” ^- Source  Wikipedia)

I wouldn't doubt that. It still is a beautiful bird, one of the prettiest around and perhaps any more colours would have made it too gaudy.

Among Slimy & the Slithery

It's been a while since I woodcrawled and this blog seems stuck in a time warp. I've been running around a bit but nothing worth biting into has turned up. This weekend should change things a bit. Bandipur beckons and I'm finished packing though I'm still a good four days away from driving off down that familiar road!

The boredom was killing the blogger in me and I had to do something. Monsoon is not exactly the ideal time to be out woodcrawling but heck, it's better than sitting in my house and going through old pictures.

On the 26th of June, 2011 I told my car to go in any direction it chose, and go off where it thought best. Trust my car to find a place to potter around, and it did! I guess it's woodcrawling instinct seems unaffected by the wet weather. Meenvallam was drowning in the rains so it went further. On the outskirts of Mannarkad the road turns right to Silent Valley National Park and my car, it seemed, had it's plan worked out. It swung right and pointed it's nose to Silent Valley. Odd time, 11.30 AM, because you need to get into the National Park before afternoon but I did not realize that my car had other ideas.

Just before the ghats begins the guard at the forest check post waved me through without even bothering to get out of his chair. That was funny; I remember entering my details the last time I was there, or was that some place else. As the road climbed gently the little cascades started to appear. In Silent Valley water has the right of way. Almost all cascades flow over the road, not under it!

Silent Valley has the most pristine rain forests  in this part of the world and I knew then I did not have to be on time! It struck me that I was alone and had the whole day to myself. I did not have to worry if my co-passenger was hungry and squeamish about leeches! Here I was, all alone with my gear in the most beautiful forest at the right time of the year. One creature that I wanted to see and photograph was the Giant wood spider. I was hoping I'd see it this time around. If it had not been for my car, I'd have been staring at my laptop screen all day.

Further up the canopy closed over the road making me feel like I was driving through a green tunnel. Every turn had something interesting and I was out of my car as much as I was in it. Thank God for the weather sealing that only Olympus has!

A lovely little cascade on my left, recessed into the forest that I almost missed it. My car, apparently knew it was there! It stopped. It almost seemed like a scene out of Jurassic Park.

As I walked about I started noticing little things. Small flowers, ferns, creepers, and tiny creatures that I'd never have noticed sitting in a car.
It was like re-learning how beautiful God's creations can be from close up.

About 28 kms from Mukkali (the entrance to Silent Valley National Park is this beautiful waterfall. It is on the right of a hairpin bend and falls almost 50 meters in series of steps. It is impossible to capture its beauty on a single frame unless you are in a helicopter!

The lower half is more violent and falls in more sharper drops than the upper part.

I kept driving, stopping, driving, stopping all the way to the top. By the time I reached Mukkali is was a little after 1.00PM. No scope of a trip into the National Park. I wasn't too keen either. I hadn't packed a lunch when I left home and it was the wrong season for birds here. So after a little discussion with my car we made  the U-turn.

On the way down I had the other side of the road to survey so the routine of stop-drive, stop-drive started again. There was this little cascade again with the water running over the road but this time it ran for a considerable distance along the side of the road before spilling onto it. I started walking along the little busy water way. It was only when I sat on my haunches and stared into water I realized how really 'busy' the water was!

Crab; so well camouflaged that I would have missed them if not for their scurrying under the rotting leaf litter.

Others popped up on the rocks waiting for prey but scooted off to their crevices as soon as I stepped in their direction.

Then something caught my eye. A damsel fly laying eggs on the litter in the water. It would fly a bit, alight on a twig or leaf and curl its tail into a circle a pat the tip on whatever it was sitting on.

As I watched fascinated I detected a little wiggly movement in the water. Tiny red worms (?Blood worms). Popping up from the  mud and disappearing the minute I touched the water or picked out a floating leaf to get a good view. There were thousands of them and I was wondering how I resisted the temptation to sip a little of that cold water. Providence intervened, perhaps!

Under a rock, protected from the rain and the dripping water was a nest of a paper wasp. They were busy as only wasps and bees could be. I didn't spend too much time in conversation with them. It was not the right time to upset them so I clicked a few pics and walked on.



A strange polka dotted grasshopper was climbing a rotting log. I couldn't get closer and my long lens was in the car but the perspective through the macro lens was more like what the grasshopper would see. An endlessly long climb...

As I had been walking I heard the croaking of frogs but I couldn't find one despite my good eye sight! I could find damsel flies and worms but no bloody frogs. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a 'water droplet' going UP! How could a water droplet defy gravity? There had to be an explanation and I peered closer to inspect this curious phenomenon. The rock face was full of these little creatures, tadpoles with legs and froglets!

I had seen some amazing sights in Silent Valley but nothing to beat what I had seen in the last few hours. I got into my car and started downhill again. When I reached the hairpin bend at the 28th kilometer from Mukkali my car stopped. I had stopped on my way up but my car stopped again. This time I ignored the falls and walked into the wet forest on the opposite side. More ferns and beautiful ground fungi.

As I walked back to the car I looked up into a low hanging branch of a tree hoping to see some bird or some tree fungi. My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. There was an alien on the tree, looking at me with eyes at the tip of two stalks. A snail; that I'd never seen before. Half an hour and many photographs later  I got into my car, elated. This was a trip like no other.

I had spent a productive day, completely different from my usual jungle trip. No large mammals or birds, just 

God's little creations. The three bananas I had for lunch at Mukkali had by then been fully utilized and my stomach was grumbling again! I told my car to head home. 

As I rolled downhill again rewinding the sights in my mind I was thinking of getting home to a warm meal. My car stopped again! There; outside my left window was a web and in it's center the object of my desire. A Giant Wood Spider. Rumbling tummy was forgotten, rain was forgotten, the itchy leech bites were forgotten.

I only had eyes for this beauty, Never mind the fact it was missing a leg!

I did not know how I reached home. I only knew that God acts in strange ways. He showed me many fascinating things through the day but he reserved the best for the last.

Faith, they say, moves mountains. The entire Silent Valley moved for me.

Thank you God & thank you Car!!

Chameleon on a Suicide Mission

Last Sunday was going to be one of those boreing weekends, or so I thought. As I contemplated my camera bag I remembered that the E3 had not been on a trip for a awhile. Siruvani has been an enduring attraction but poor planning always ensured that I never got there. So I thought, why not today? I hadn't anticipated any obstacle but I had underestmated my mother. She wasn't very keen, especially with a suspect ear problem that had the penchant to act up at all the wrong moments.

I loaded my gear into my car and thought I'd take a drive closer to home. There was Kava & Valiya_erie. So off I went to explore the world. As I reached close to my destination my phone rang. It was a friend from Coimbatore inviting me to see some fancy new equipment they were installing. I did not need any other excuse and pointed my car north-east on the NH 47.

After the formalities and a brunch I was wondering what to do with the rest of the day. Siruvani beckoned, but I wasn't sure. Uncharted territory for me and an unpredicatble ear problem, so I decided to explore a straight forward route I was familiar with. The road to Silent Valley National Park through Anaikatti. The drive out of Coimbatore was uneventful as we drove past the Salim Ali Center for Ornithology, some spiritual Ashrams and hamlets, unless of course, a pile of dried elephant dung can be termed interesting. The blue jay was too busy chasing dragonflies to be interested in giving me a pose.

Some fifteen kilometers before Mukkali the dashboard clock told me it was time to return. Disappointed with a half-finished drive I turned around to head back, not anticipating I'd be involved in aborting a certain roadkill.

Just after Anaikatti the road goes parallel to a little rivulet and as it crests ridge the road dips and turns to the right. I saw something green on the edge of the road and slowed down. Then I slammed my brakes and jumped out. It was a chameleon crossing the road.

It was literally on its toes, only the claws touching the hot asphalt, as it verrrrrryy slowwwwly moved toward the center of the road. The situation was alarming. Any moment some speeding vehicle could run it over. I had to head it of. 

I went in front of it and shooed it. It just turned further towards the center of the road, gave me a backward stare with its highly mobile eye. It seemed to be asking me,"Who in the hell are you?"

For the next few minutes we were hopping about on hot asphalt. The creature trying to go south across the road and me trying to head it north, off the road. This bizzare dance had it attarct someone and it did. An old lady sitting under a tree waiting for a bus saw the commotion and ambled across to investigate. What she saw must have had her in splits but she kept her composure. Perhaps, pitying me because she would have thought the baking sun must have garbled my brain. Then she saw the cause for my strange behaviour and advised me, "Pachondi saar, pudichukonge" (Chameleon sir, catch it). 

I would have, if not for the two kilograms of E3 and lens in my hands. I've always wanted to do a Jeff Corwin and why would I forego a chance.

Then providence decided to intervene in a dramatic fashion. A Tamilnadu State Transport Corporaton bus sped into view as I was doing a jig on the road. Certainly the driver must have seen me and decided I was having a sun-stroke. As he closed in on us I waved frantically to the other side of the road. He swerved to the left, missing the chameleon and me by a few inches, glared at me and sped onward.

I gasped in relief, partly because all the dancing was making me pant, and partly because I noticed the cause of my exertions going off in a hurry; and he was going the other way.

Maybe the mad cap dancing in his way or maybe a few tons of steel & rubber whizzing past his nose. Whatever it was he'd shelved his plan to cross the road and had returned to the safety of the roadside scrub.

As for me, I was tired but proud. I'd prevented a roadkill. Even if it was only an insignificant creature, it still was God's creation. 

Rakesh, Soumya & gang would have been proud of me!!