A Midsummer's Sequel.
sanchita dey
A midsummer's sequel-1.6.'22
Sattal, Uttarakhand.
It was 6.30am of a June summer's day as I walked down the steps towards the much famed birding studio. I wasn't expecting anything much other than a dull session of photography under set piece arrangements, and honing my less than poor shooting skills. Walking along the wooded trail, I was still undecided whether to explore further or down the path or take my seat beside others around the waterhole, when I froze on my tracks. A white streaming ribbon, dived its way into the pool throwing gleaming droplets around it...the Asian Paradise Flycatcher. It sure was the curtain raiser for the high midsummer drama that would follow.
By the time I took my seat, along with a few others, there was a temporary hush around the water hole. The sun was slowly crawling up, touching the upper fringes of the canopies. It was eerily quiet, but just for a while. Out ventured the Blue-winged Minlas-about four of them. As if emboldened, one by one, out stepped the Red-billed Leothrix, Grey-hooded Warblers, Oriental White-eyes, a couple of Grey-headed Canary Flycatchers from within the low bordering shrubs right above. The fringes of the pool had suddenly come to life with an array of darting blues, azzures, olives, yellows fresh as lime, greys broken by vermillions, lilacs and oranges. Tiny as they were, they flitted in and out of the surrounding low bushes, splashed about, drank, preened, fed, played and fought. Warblers and White eyes playfully impish, the Leothrix not as bold but quite at ease, the cheery Canary FC a little apart from the rest, attempting centre stage. The Ultramarine Flycatcher couple appear for a short while, bathe, quench their thirst and leave. I later discovered there was one individual within them ... a wary and cautious little one- the Black-chinned Babbler, a lifer for me.
Surprisingly, while this lot of tiny ones were around, the larger birds were not seen. While they were at it, a high Broadway drama unfolds. Suddenly as if from nowhere a pair of Asian Paradise Flycatchers, the male, white, in full breeding plumage and the female in its Rufous morph bursts upon the scene. The male pursuing and amorous, blazing a trail of white, chasing the female brunette in and out through the dry bushes. Shutters go berserk. We are enthralled and cannot have enough of it.
Time for the curtains to be drawn and sudden calm descends again as the summer sun climbs up and above. 8.15 am... Mr. & Mrs. Tickell's Thrush tiptoe out for their quiet poolside date, followed by the White-throated Fantail exhibiting much fanfare while splashing about. The Verditer Flycatcher couple is a constant presence throughout, taking an occasional plunge from time to time. Perched on the horizontal branch across the pool, they kind of announce their ownership. It is now time for the bigger ones. The Streaked Laughing-thrush steps out of the bushes for a plunge but only for a short while as the White-throated Laughing-thrushes descend in fives and sixes, chattery, boisterous, splashing, drinking, hopping in and out, taking up the whole of the centre stage. Just as they leave, come a flock of White-crested Laughing-thrushes. Flamboyant as they are, the drama is now complete with their extended bathing spree. They exit and all is quiet again.
The sun is now quite scorching, others have left and I am alone, patiently hoping for the next sequel. The wait is quite prolonged and I'm almost about to leave when a cackling call and signs of some movement under the bushes pins me down. All activity behind the wings but no stage appearance yet. Finally a cautious entry...a couple of Rusty-cheeked Scimitar Babblers. Much quieter in their movements, they take their bath, quench their thirst and recede again under the dark bushes. 11.30am... But I'm famished and must leave now.
High above and within the canopies, the forest is still abuzz and I promise to return for the sequel must go on.
Thank you,
Sanchita
