Wordless Wednesday

November Rain

The rains have returned to the dry zone, ending the withering drought it experienced for several months. I know this, because I am back from a 4-day trip, which took me to several National Parks in that part of the country. I bore witness to some of the pleasant changes brought about by the rains. A brief account below.

Grey-breasted Prinia at Udawalawe

One of things that I have experienced in our dry country is that, when it rains, it really pours, just as Elvis sang it decades ago, though he was not making any reference to Sri Lanka. It had started to rain properly just 3 days before my arrrival at Yala. I was surprised to see how quickly some of the waterholes had filled up. The Wild Buffalos, neck deep them, were visibly happy that the drought is finally over.

The shrubs, which had shed leaves to conserve water during the drought, spouted up fresh foliage almost before our eyes. It was springtime at Yala. This migrant, Brahminy Myna is sitting on such a deciduous tree, with one coming to life nearby.

The new growth in the vegetation, brought about happy times for herbivores. This Elephant, busy feasting on the succulent new-growth was not too bothered by our close presence.

This female Sambar held this pose long enough for me to bump up the ISO to attempt this shot in low light.

The Spotted Deer were back in the glades, grazing the new grass that had spung up. Suddenly there was water everywhere, and the rush-hour traffic, seen near water holes during the height of the drought last month was over.

Whenever there was a respite from the weather, bird activity went up, like the Colombo Stock Market during peace. I managed to get my first decent shots of Tawny-bellied Babbler at Udawalawe.

Courting Indian Peafowl males, displaying their gaudy trains were a common sight at all sites.

Even in rainy weather, you still could manage plenty of bird and wildlife watching in the tropics. If you are patient enough, that is. Like this Painted Stork at Bundala.

Silly stuff

Have you got what it takes to survive on a deserted island, if you are marooned there for five years? Name ten four non-electronic/non-foodie thingies you would like to have with you, before you find yourself in such a situation.

I would settle for a Rambo knife, a waterproof matchbox, my binoculars, and a copy of The Song of the Dodo (preferably in hardcover).

Click here if you cannot see the above YT clip.

In flagrante delicto

These Stilt-legged Flies, were photographed in flagrante delicto in my garden at Bomiriya, 90210. They belong to the family: Micropezidae. They truly engage in marathon mating efforts, and are easier to photograph when thus occupied.

More hot news, this time birding: last Tuesday was an eventful day. It started very early with a vocal Common Hawk Cuckoo waking me up at 1.30 in the morning! Migrants of this bird species augment the resident populations during this time of the year. I presume the individual heard was a migrant on transit to more woodier interiors. It was a first record for my garden, so I had no complains, despite the nuisance caused.

At a more civilised hour on the same day, I found two hoped for migrants in my yard. The first was an Indian Pitta, which comes all the way from Himalayas. It was seen hopping at a corner of my garden (with dense undergrowth), especially designated for it. I am looking forward to photograph it later on - after giving it some time to settle down. The Indian Pitta is truly gorgeous bird, which explains why it's been featured in the front cover of Salim Ali's Magnum opus, "The Book of Indian Birds".

The second migrant seen was this Brown-breasted Flycatcher.

When I started birding, way back in the late cretaceous, it used to be known as Layard's Flycatcher - named after Edgar Leopold Layard (1824 – 1900) - a British civil servant, who succeeded in adding an astonishing 136 species of birds to Sri Lanka's list of birds. This achievment is phenomenal considering that when he started collecting, our avain inventory stood at 182. The scientific name of this bird is Muscicappa muttui of which, the specific epithet: "muttui" is to honour Muttu (more correctly, Muththu) - the Tamil (more correctly, Thamil) servant of Layard who collected this bird from Point Pedro in Jaffna - the northernmost area of Sri Lanka. Layard was full of praise for Muttu, and wrote that he has named this bird after him "to whose patient perseverance and hunting skill, I owe best of my birds".

The collection of the first Brown-breasted Flycatcher was made by Muttu in June, which suggests that the individual collected was a loiterer - a migrant that has over stayed the visa. The penalty it had to pay for that immigration delinquecy sure was flipping costly!

I am in the middle of doing some blog housekeeping, and I have started it off by changing the template.

Sanderling watching

Last Saturday, I got a detailed reading of my horoscope through a local Astrologer. It was done on my own initiative, for the record. One of the interesting things I learnt from that was that I have two lucky months. They are September and October, the latter apparently the luckiest. I was told that these months therefore, are 'auspicious' ones for me to begin new 'ventures'. And to buy things like cameras and lenses. Alright, this latter fact was revealed after I posed a specific question. Now, I must be honest here, that I had absolutely no knowledge of this when I got my first dSLR in Sep, last year, or when I got my Canon 100-400mm lens last month, or when I started this blog 2 years ago on a day like this. Wish me luck, ladies and gentlemen, today is my second blogoversary.

To mark this momentous day, I wish to share some pictures of a bird that I like very much, the Sanderling, a High Arctic breeding long-distant migrant that winters in sandy beaches, pretty much around the world.

It is an uncommon visitor to Sri Lanka and the sandspit near the fishing village at Chilaw is arguably one of the best places in Sri Lanka to see it.

Sanderling is a gregarious bird in winter. However, when there are not enough numbers at a wintering site, they can join flocks of other shorebirds, probably to seek safety in numbers. When they do that, they can be often seen in locations, well away from their typical sandy-shore habitats. Here's a case in point.

In the above, two Sanderlings (largely white & grey birds, in the left and middle) can be seen mixed with the migrant Lesser Sand Plovers, at the Bundala National Park. When found in habitats like this, Sanderlings are not at their usual bubbly selves.

I would also like to draw your attention to the wader flock in flight below, photographed at Bundala.

Alright, here's a close crop of the area that I want you to see. You should be able to identify two strangers in it.

The one that I want to point out is a Sanderling.

For none birders, it is the larger bird in lower middle. The other obvious stranger in this flock of Little Stints, is a Curlew Sandpiper, which is the one with a decurved beak, at the top left.

In Chilaw sandspits, there are enough Sanderlings to form flocks of their own during the migratory period. My first Sanderlings for this season were seen while birding alone at this site, on 1 Sep. In that, I saw 4 birds, and they appeared to me as if they had just touched down in the balmy Sri Lankan shores.

Sanderlings, when they are found in their typical shoreline habitats are absolutely pleasing birds to observe. This is mainly to do with their peculiar feeding actions. It is characterised by dashing runs towards the shoreline with each ebb, to frantically feed on any organisms exposed. Like this.

And soon turning back to run ahead of the breaking waves. Like mad. Like this.

Sometimes, those waves are too brisk for their comfort, and they are forced to take wing to take evasive action. Like this.

You really don't have to be a bird watcher to enjoy these avian tourists in their element. If you happen to pass Chilaw between now and late April, just pay a visit to the Chilaw sandspits to see what I mean. After all, these birds have arrived here after a long journey of 1000s of miles. So, why not make a short detour to see them?

Note: locals may not readily understand if you ask directions for "Chilaw sandspits" from them, for it is very much a term used by the small coterie of bird watchers, to refer to this particular site.

This is how to get there: When you drive along the road that leads to the beach, turning right near the Chilaw Resthouse (which you should be able to find easily, with its directions clearly marked), turn left when you come across a colourful Catholic church and then turn right again when you meet a small Catholic shrine, within sight of each other, at which point the sea will come into view. The road gets narrower from this point onwards with houses of the fisher folk hugging it from either sides. From here, you will have to drive slowly, very slowly, may I stress, as those children behave like children. And some of the adults tend to behave like children too. I usually advise my drivers not to toot the horn while passing this stretch (even if necessary), as the locals may find it 'disturbing'. This is a wise move, considering the amount of machetes and scimitars at work, anyway.

Generally speaking, the proletariat folk there are peaceful types (as long as unprovoked), and I have taken a fair number of bird watchers to this site, and none of us have returned home with any lost extremities yet.

Anyways, once you pass the narrow stretch, you come to an open area, with a graveyard on the right (ahem, the dead centre of Chilaw sandspits). There aren't any tombstones of bird watchers, relax!

They'd chop you into smaller pieces to feed the pigs. Muhahaha...

Having arrived there, drive another 100m or so and stop when you meet another Catholic shrine and walk towards the beach at that point. Scattered flocks of Sanderlings are usually found along this stretch. 6.00-9.00 a.m. is my preferred time belt to visit this site. Afternoons, at times, attract local visitors, who may not share the same level of passion in birds as you.

Once you are there, also look out for such goodies as Terek Sandpiper, Eurasian Oystercatcher, Western Reed Egret, and if you arrive on stormy weather, scarce seabird visitors such as Brown Noddy. This site is also great to observe a good array of tern species. These may include Whiskered, White-winged, Little, Caspian, Gull-billed, Large Crested, Lesser Crested, Common, and Bridled Terns.

If you visit this site after reading this post, please drop a comment here to let me know how you fared.

Blue-faced Tuesday

This Blue-faced Malkoha tested my manual focussing skills during my last trip to Yala National Park. A cuckoo family member, it is not brood-parasitic as most of its other relatives, but builds its own nest. In Sri Lanka it is found in the more sylvan parts of the dry and intermediate zones.