The backyard bird watcher 330

His knowledge about avians is limited to birds having beak, wings, necks, head of different types and choice of colours and those that feast on food starting from grains to fishes via insects and worms. He knew the hummingbird prefers nectar as starters and non-veg as the main course. He saw no point in laying a claim as an ornithologist. But he used to avidly watch birds in flight, vainly trying to identify their ilk. The stark truth was that he was unable to distinguish between a crane and a painted stork or an eagle from a falcon, barely managing to differentiate a crow from a raven. Like the pessimist, he did not see only the half-empty glass!

Habitually, he walked either looking at the ground or craning his neck to spot a bird through the leaves and branches of trees. His grandchildren, when being walked back from school bus or to board the bus, never missed the chance to make fun of this. To tease him a bit, they will suddenly shout, "Look there, a sparrow on that branch" where none was really there! 

Pranks notwithstanding, he continued with his habit. All this was about to change, and the day was on hand to prove his bird-watching mettle, to spread its wings and boost his credentials on way to becoming a sort of a backyard expert. When unknowingly, an unknown species of bird played a decisive role, he grabbed the chance with both hands. 

Why his hands? The arena set for the unfolding episode had its roots in his name-sake garden and particularly on the shaky "pandal" he had erected for a climber or creeper he was not sure. 

Why is the unknown species of bird scheduled to play that decisive role? 

He routinely sprays and sprinkles water to keep the leaves clean, to help the plants to efficiently convert sunlight, water and oxygen into food. His grandmother’s words echoed in his mind, “Food in the stomach is strength and growth." and he exhorted his plants to follow it. But to his dismay, they refused to be strong and grow as he desired them to. 

That day morning he managed to take a video of a group of this unknown bird noisily discussing some issue by flying in and out of the backyard (balcony) through the handrails. Little did he realise, at that time, that the discussion was about taking over (squatting) a spot for a pair to raise a family. He could not find the reason why that many birds came to select one spot! A day later, the matter resolved itself when a would-be mother bird flew out, when he was drenching the leaves of the climber/creeper with water. Of all the places in the area, this bird has chosen his pandal to build a nest. Only by chance, he stumbled upon the bird's initial handwork or rather its beak's work! He wondered, whether by design or chance, the bird had chosen a spot at the 'pandal', abutting a wall and under the big leaves of the money plant to use them as a roof, come shine or rain! 

Piqued by interest, he did an on-the-spot inspection by lifting the leaves of a money plant. It revealed the initial preparations afoot, for building a nest. Intent on converting this opportunity brought by the bird (Bulbul or Drango or Magpie without red patch) in to a study project, he decided to closely follow the nest building process at frequent intervals, like time-lapse photography.  A snide thought occurred to him, “This nest – builder being a squatter on his rickety pandal, why should he take its permission to intermittently inspect the progress?”

Before he could progress any further, his grandson came to his rescue by confidently identifying the bird as a bulbul with pictures. One picture showed a Red-vented Bulbul (Pycnonotus cafer) as a medium-sized, common songbird readily distinguished by its scaly dark brown body, black crested head, white rump, and a distinctive crimson red patch under the tail, known as the vent and seen in urban areas and gardens. The other one was a Red-whiskered Bulbul (Pycnonotus jocosus) having a small, bright red patch of feathers on its cheeks (or "ear coverts"), right behind the eye, often referred to as "red whiskers".

To leave his grandfather in confusion, he opted out by saying, “among the two, you decide which is your bird" For good measure, he added this fun fact before signing off -There are 166 species in 32 groups. Confronted with such proof, he decided to accept but with a small doubt - is the grandson becoming a confidant or a competitor? 

As a worrywart, he had many regarding the bird’s project. Meticulously he posed questions and tried to answer them too. Where from the bird will bring the needed material.? Careful follow up and watching revealed the source from which the bird was meeting its material requirement. The coconut tree in the neighbouring garden! 

Why the summertime to undertake this project.? His answer was in the freely hanging down, dried out, brown fibrous sheet-like material attached to the coconut tree! Cleverly or intuitively, the bird had chosen the nature’s bounty and unlimited access to make short length fibre strings. 

How the bird was able to take out the fibres in the form of short strings? He detected the well-hidden processing unit amidst the fronds or foliage of the coconut tree. What processing method it employed at this hidden unit? By constant surveillance, he unveiled the secret. The bird, sitting royally on the hanging piece of burlap- like cloth, held one of the sides firmly in its beak and vigorously jerked its head a few times to separate a few fibrous strings. Then using its very own avian version of GPS, it unerringly landed on the handrail, flew under the bamboo sticks to reach the building site. 

He could not help but worry about, where in its tiny brain the architectural plan lay open for easy reference? Furthermore, he worried whether the architect had envisaged contingencies and changes as per site conditions and materials availability? 

Using these fibrous strings and the bigger leaves of the money plant, it managed to construct the retaining walls for the proposed nest. It got busy by spreading and tamping the short fibres into desired shape along the already formed outer boundary to form an open, conical cup. Painstaking and being happy about it, the bird undertook hundreds of sorties to and from the coconut tree, to build its own hatchery cum nursery before laying an egg or two. This bird’s care and love for the yet to be laid and hatched eggs was truly off the charts for any kind of empathy! 

By now, his grandchildren have become fledgling ornithologists without binoculars. They started making spur of the moment decisions to have a look in to the nest whether eggs have been laid or not. He had to restrain their enthusiasm as it might undermine the bird’s confidence and move away to another location to start building another nest from scratch. This possibility saddened them and their visits to the backyard almost ceased.

He hit the pause button in the narrative on reaching a fork in the road. Unable to decide which fork to take, he played it safe and let the narrative to take both the right and left hand of the fork.

This happens, if he took the right turn:

After a spell of thunderstorm, he went to the backyard to assess the condition of the pandal, after the downpour. He was surprised to observe what looked like a shift change. While one bird entered the pandal and another left the scene. He confidently concluded that egg or eggs have been laid and the roster duty had started for the brood. Feeling so sure, he was willing to lay a bet on his pandal.

Anxiety and curiosity raced against each other, wishing the birds to declare the result because he did not know how long the wait would be. The grandchildren shared the suspense with him now and then, as they had other worries to manage like schoolwork and sports activities. 

Losing count of elapsed days, he chose to wait and watch the birds, taking turns to feed the nestlings. If lucky he might even hear the noise of the nestlings from the nest. He would be happy to know from anyone one of the indications, that everything has gone on well for the birds. Soon he was rewarded with high-pitched, rapidly repeated, and frantic noises of the nestlings, reminding their parents' that it is past feed time. 

As the days rolled by, their insistence became more strident as hunger pangs became stronger. The harried parents might be wondering when, though they knew exactly when, these racketeers would become fledglings and fly the coop! If that day comes, the nest would be vacated and he would be left feeling sad wondering whether the same birds once again would choose the same nest, after touch-up works or build one anew! 

This happens, if he took the left turn: 

When the expected events did not unfold, he, the worrywart, started to run different scenarios in his mind. Partly to signal the birds to give one more chance and morely to console himself. He could only visualise what could have transpired and to what end. 

The frequent inspections and animated talks near the nest site scared the mother-to-be bulbul. When she almost decided to forget it, there was a raucous birthday party that sent soundwaves, that shook the rickety pandal. At that point, she must have had a hurried consultation with her mate. The mate, probably wary of another location scouting, hunting for building materials and the labour involved, might have tried to downplay the issue and pleaded for patience.  

The mother-to-be had other pressing issues besides the disturbances - safety and the imminent arrival of eggs. She knew it better than her mate. Just any temporary nesting place will not do and it was imperative that they do something, anything to face the crisis. The male bird hit upon a solution to double down and build a new nest, in a location they had earlier considered and kept as an option. He would bring the materials and she could build the nest. This way, he must have reasoned out that, in half the time they would be able to build a new nest without over-straining. 

Quickly reaching agreement, they might have acted upon this plan. Eggs might have been laid and they might have taken turns to brood and later feed the nestlings. Their hectic schedule would have come to an end when the fledglings flew out of the nest. 

After about a month, while walking back from the school bus, they happened to witness the fledglings getting out of the nest. The grandfather knew instantly that he had missed the rare chance to complete his backyard project like he had dreamt. 

When the narration reached the other junction where the forks met, once again his grandson came to the rescue – “Grandpa, don't worry, the window of opportunity ends in September, and we are only in the month of April. These birds would definitely come back to make use of the nest in the backyard.” Whether they would leave the other nest and come back to his backyard or not, he decided to end his backyard project. Though, he had this uncleared doubt – whether the would be mother builds the nest before or after selecting a suitor? Or is it the male bird that goes through this ritual? 

The spirit of Dr. Salim Ali, the "Birdman of India" felt happy that this backyard bird watcher had come very close to gain a firsthand experience of the nesting habit of bulbul from his spindly pandal! The “spirit” was awestruck by the fact that this bird watcher had embarked on his project not even knowing the bird’s identity to start with!