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| Indian Grey Hornbills outside the hostel balcony |
Entry 16 – Fowl that may Fly
The Vivekananda Institute for Indian Studies is located on the edge of the industrial section of Mysore, in the outskirts of the area of Hebbal. The hostel where we stay is just down the road from the Institute, and sits not only beside the industrial area, but on the edge of a small somewhat scrubby green strip that includes shrubs, grass and trees. Less than fifty yards wide, it runs from the Ring Road, just a stone’s throw from the hostel, down to Hebbal Lake, a little less than a kilometre away.
I have been pleasantly surprised to see a little bit of natural India even in the midst of this urban and industrial environment. There is little green space in Mysore compared to most Canadian cities, and much of it does not seem inviting. However, where the hostel is located, even poor green space is better than none. During the day, industrial noises are heard in the background – trucks, machinery, and what is that siren that goes off at random times during the day anyway? It is a little worrying, knowing that just down the road is a large chemical plant. Just a few kilometres outside Mysore, at Ratnahalli, a “Rare Materials Plant” is engaged in the work of uranium enrichment for use in fuel rods in nuclear reactors; in this industrial process, the nuclear fuel produces radioactive wastes at every stage.
Certainly there is an industrial feel to this area, but for now, let me concentrate on this barely green strip that stretches not even a kilometre, past a few buildings and a small, new hospital, before abutting against a coconut grove beside Hebbal Lake. The lake itself is smaller than two football fields, and shallow, and uninviting, surrounded by ground that has been churned up and left as dirt with no vegetation save a few weeds, and covered in garbage.
From the balcony on the second floor of the hostel, just outside my room, I can look over the concrete wall and into the green space; here I see a little bit of both natural and traditional India on display. Shepherds and goatherds bring their flocks through this area as they move in search of grazing land; the women wear saris and the men wear dhotis, the traditional men’s garment that is wrapped around the waist and tied. Some of the men will wear a length of cloth wrapped around their head, but open at the top. The sense of being in the twenty-first century is given in the plastic flip-flops that they wear on their feet, and sometimes the umbrellas they carry for shelter from sun or rain, and the plastic bottles of water they carry with them. A plain stick or sometimes shepherd’s crook keep the animals moving the right direction with gentle touch.
I see water buffalo, with their large grey heads, curved horns and soft-looking hide, coming through with their herders. I see cattle as well, occasionally some Brahmin cattle with their long horns that point straight up and their humped backs; I also see cattle similar to those I am used in Canada. When the buffalo or cattle come through, it is not uncommon to see cattle egrets moving along with them, occasionally hitching a ride on the back of a cow or buffalo. The cattle egrets are heron-like, but smaller; elegant birds, they eat the insects that are stirred up by the hooves of the moving cattle, and can often be seen walking directly underneath or just beside a cow. It looks as though they are in imminent danger of being stepped on or kicked, but birds and beasts walk closely together, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the other.
There is an abundance of avian life in this short stretch of greenery, and I have enjoyed seeing the variety and determining what kinds of birds I see and hear. The King James Version of the Bible accounts for the fifth day of creation in Genesis in these words: “And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.” Not a lot of open firmament in an industrial area, but there the fowl fly, and roost, and walk, in abundance. Thanks to Ellen, one of our Mount Allison students whose parents insisted she bring the Field Guide to the Birds of India with her on the trip, I have been able to identify all the birds I have spotted; I am sure I have got more use from this book than Ellen has herself.
The Vivekananda Institute for Indian Studies is located on the edge of the industrial section of Mysore, in the outskirts of the area of Hebbal. The hostel where we stay is just down the road from the Institute, and sits not only beside the industrial area, but on the edge of a small somewhat scrubby green strip that includes shrubs, grass and trees. Less than fifty yards wide, it runs from the Ring Road, just a stone’s throw from the hostel, down to Hebbal Lake, a little less than a kilometre away.
I have been pleasantly surprised to see a little bit of natural India even in the midst of this urban and industrial environment. There is little green space in Mysore compared to most Canadian cities, and much of it does not seem inviting. However, where the hostel is located, even poor green space is better than none. During the day, industrial noises are heard in the background – trucks, machinery, and what is that siren that goes off at random times during the day anyway? It is a little worrying, knowing that just down the road is a large chemical plant. Just a few kilometres outside Mysore, at Ratnahalli, a “Rare Materials Plant” is engaged in the work of uranium enrichment for use in fuel rods in nuclear reactors; in this industrial process, the nuclear fuel produces radioactive wastes at every stage.
Certainly there is an industrial feel to this area, but for now, let me concentrate on this barely green strip that stretches not even a kilometre, past a few buildings and a small, new hospital, before abutting against a coconut grove beside Hebbal Lake. The lake itself is smaller than two football fields, and shallow, and uninviting, surrounded by ground that has been churned up and left as dirt with no vegetation save a few weeds, and covered in garbage.
From the balcony on the second floor of the hostel, just outside my room, I can look over the concrete wall and into the green space; here I see a little bit of both natural and traditional India on display. Shepherds and goatherds bring their flocks through this area as they move in search of grazing land; the women wear saris and the men wear dhotis, the traditional men’s garment that is wrapped around the waist and tied. Some of the men will wear a length of cloth wrapped around their head, but open at the top. The sense of being in the twenty-first century is given in the plastic flip-flops that they wear on their feet, and sometimes the umbrellas they carry for shelter from sun or rain, and the plastic bottles of water they carry with them. A plain stick or sometimes shepherd’s crook keep the animals moving the right direction with gentle touch.
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| a cattle egret, without the cattle |
I see water buffalo, with their large grey heads, curved horns and soft-looking hide, coming through with their herders. I see cattle as well, occasionally some Brahmin cattle with their long horns that point straight up and their humped backs; I also see cattle similar to those I am used in Canada. When the buffalo or cattle come through, it is not uncommon to see cattle egrets moving along with them, occasionally hitching a ride on the back of a cow or buffalo. The cattle egrets are heron-like, but smaller; elegant birds, they eat the insects that are stirred up by the hooves of the moving cattle, and can often be seen walking directly underneath or just beside a cow. It looks as though they are in imminent danger of being stepped on or kicked, but birds and beasts walk closely together, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the other.
There is an abundance of avian life in this short stretch of greenery, and I have enjoyed seeing the variety and determining what kinds of birds I see and hear. The King James Version of the Bible accounts for the fifth day of creation in Genesis in these words: “And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.” Not a lot of open firmament in an industrial area, but there the fowl fly, and roost, and walk, in abundance. Thanks to Ellen, one of our Mount Allison students whose parents insisted she bring the Field Guide to the Birds of India with her on the trip, I have been able to identify all the birds I have spotted; I am sure I have got more use from this book than Ellen has herself.
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| the Red-Naped Ibis, a noisy bird from dawn to dusk |
The first bird I encountered was the Red-Naped Ibis. A rather goofy-looking bird, it has large feet, a stocky body with a narrow almost wooly-looking neck and a naked head. Dark in colour, when the light reflects off the body it has a dark green and purple gloss; the back of its head and neck are brilliant red. Its long beak curves slightly downward. A noisy bird, especially when in a group, the ibis chorus begins shortly after six o’clock each morning and continues for about twelve hours. Their noise is a sort of hoot; the only way I can describe it is a cross between a crow and a loon, if you can imagine it.
Glossy ibis appear too. Black all over, they come in small flocks to pick over the remains of meals, especially fruit rinds, that have been tipped into the shallow pit behind the hostel kitchen. Occasionally a heron from nearby Hebbal Lake will pause in my view from the balcony, and sometimes an egret will rest here too.
Glossy ibis appear too. Black all over, they come in small flocks to pick over the remains of meals, especially fruit rinds, that have been tipped into the shallow pit behind the hostel kitchen. Occasionally a heron from nearby Hebbal Lake will pause in my view from the balcony, and sometimes an egret will rest here too.
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| A Tawney Eagle at rest |
I often see eagles in the sky over Mysore, and have seen them from the balcony, soaring high and then coming in low, teasing me to try to get a picture before they suddenly rise up on a thermal current, out of range again. I have identified two different kinds of eagles – although I am sure there are other that I cannot identify – namely the Tawney Eagle and Bonelli’s Eagle. As many as seven or eight might appear in the sky at one time. One morning, I was summoned to the balcony by a student hanging clothes out to dry; a Tawney Eagle was sitting in the tree about thirty yards away, where it lingered for the better part of an hour.
If I am in the hostel just after six o’clock in the evening, which is shortly before sunset, I will go to the balcony to watch the evening show. First I hear a chattering in the distance, and then, as the chattering gets louder, flocks of Rose-Ringed Parakeets come flying in just above the treetops, sweeping past me to their nightly resting place. They come in waves for about fifteen minutes, sometimes only two or three at a time, sometimes ten or a dozen, and sometimes too many too count. They move far too quickly for me to get a picture, even with the advance warning of their sounds. They come in a flash of brilliant lime green, long tails stretched out behind them, then they are gone. I wonder where they go each morning (and why I don’t hear or see them then), and I wonder where they return to each night, but I delight in this colourful fly-past that takes place at the same time every day.
I have identified three kinds of egret, the Indian Grey Hornbill, a Red-Whiskered Bulbul; I have seen Coots, and Fantails, Lapwings and Munias, Koels and Crows. And there are more. The regular sighting is the Common Mynah, a robin-sized bird with brilliant white shoulder patches that become larger markings that flash brightly when it flies. The male has a conspicuous yellow eye patch. The bird guide describes the Mynah’s song as “noisy, disjointed and tuneless” – I would agree with that description, but it might also be applied to my own attempts at singing. On a few occasions I have seen the White-Throated Kingfisher, notable not for its white throat but its magnificent turquoise-blue back and wings, which become much more evident in flight.
A short walk down the road takes me to Hebbal Lake; while the scenery is not particularly appealing, the bird life is abundant and active. Ibis and egrets abound, and there are cormorants, pelicans, and some waterfowl I have not been able to identify. Along the way I often see bee-eaters. The Green Bee-Eater is a small bird, about the size of a finch, with fine features like a hummingbird. Depending on the light, the feathers are a stunning brilliant green, or might appear lighter, almost rosy. It has a slim beak that it uses to pluck insects from the air as it flies. And there are always eagles overhead at the lake.
If I am in the hostel just after six o’clock in the evening, which is shortly before sunset, I will go to the balcony to watch the evening show. First I hear a chattering in the distance, and then, as the chattering gets louder, flocks of Rose-Ringed Parakeets come flying in just above the treetops, sweeping past me to their nightly resting place. They come in waves for about fifteen minutes, sometimes only two or three at a time, sometimes ten or a dozen, and sometimes too many too count. They move far too quickly for me to get a picture, even with the advance warning of their sounds. They come in a flash of brilliant lime green, long tails stretched out behind them, then they are gone. I wonder where they go each morning (and why I don’t hear or see them then), and I wonder where they return to each night, but I delight in this colourful fly-past that takes place at the same time every day.
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| the Common Mynah (male) |
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| Kingfisher |
I have identified three kinds of egret, the Indian Grey Hornbill, a Red-Whiskered Bulbul; I have seen Coots, and Fantails, Lapwings and Munias, Koels and Crows. And there are more. The regular sighting is the Common Mynah, a robin-sized bird with brilliant white shoulder patches that become larger markings that flash brightly when it flies. The male has a conspicuous yellow eye patch. The bird guide describes the Mynah’s song as “noisy, disjointed and tuneless” – I would agree with that description, but it might also be applied to my own attempts at singing. On a few occasions I have seen the White-Throated Kingfisher, notable not for its white throat but its magnificent turquoise-blue back and wings, which become much more evident in flight.
A short walk down the road takes me to Hebbal Lake; while the scenery is not particularly appealing, the bird life is abundant and active. Ibis and egrets abound, and there are cormorants, pelicans, and some waterfowl I have not been able to identify. Along the way I often see bee-eaters. The Green Bee-Eater is a small bird, about the size of a finch, with fine features like a hummingbird. Depending on the light, the feathers are a stunning brilliant green, or might appear lighter, almost rosy. It has a slim beak that it uses to pluck insects from the air as it flies. And there are always eagles overhead at the lake.
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| A Green Bee-Eater with its supper in its beak |
Looking out from the balcony and over the wall, I have seen – only once – a mongoose, as it broke cover from under some bushes and dashed across open ground to take shelter again in more shrubs and bushes. One day, alerted by the commotion of a pair of mynahs who sounded distressed, I dashed to the window in time to see these two birds diving and flying up, only to dive again. They were driving a snake away from what may have been a nesting area; the snake was an Indian Saw-Scaled Viper, more than five feet long and as big around as my wrist (and, yes, one of the big four venomous snakes of India). I will be quite happy not to see another.
We have contemplated making a visit to the Mysore Zoo on our last weekend in the city, which is one of the first zoos in the world dating back well over one hundred years. But if we don’t get there, to see the leopard, tiger, and sloth bear that are native to Karnataka, I will not be disappointed, knowing I have seen some of the beauty of natural India even in the midst of industrial Mysore.
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| Tawney Eagle in flight |
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