Mornings at the field station are a rare delight now that I have become familiar with the vibrant bird life of Siddapura. Early in the morning, a familiar cackling call stirs me from sleep. A hornbill - probably a Malabar grey hornbill - and by the sound of it, it's right by my room. I…
The crik-crik-crik of the Malabar gliding frog fills the still air of the Forestry College Horticulture Garden. We skirt around the pond in our pyjamas, the dogs sniffing busily at our heels, taking care to not startle any snake that might be out on the hunt. Up ahead is a palm with lovely arching fronds.…
Mudskippers look like an odd mix of tadpoles that are just beginning to grow limbs and fish flopping about on the exposed mudflats. These tiny fish are known as the fish that climb trees. They hop about using tiny jumps and are amphibious in nature, able to survive both on land and in the water.…
A sea of green broad leaves. Pale purple flowers pop up on occasion. A pond heron stands perfectly still on this mat of greenery. The blue waters are barely visible. Water hyacinth. It grows voraciously, swallowing the river, clogging the channel, and tangling in the boat's propeller. Purple swamphens peck about on the wet meadows…
The kuk-kuk-kuk of the swamphen carves through the otherwise-silent night. The Phragmites rustles in the gentle breeze, creaking like old wooden stairs. We pad along the bundt, silent as panthers, flashlights off, Subas da in the lead. Himaja yawns, already bored before the watch has begun. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the lack of light;…
Little silver fish skip across the water's surface, so light and quick they might as well be flying. Like silver bullets, they cleave the waves effortlessly, skipping like stones. Fishermen spin their nets once, twice, and let them go. The nets flare as they descend. A meal secured. The terns flap noisily around the nets,…
The mud path abruptly narrows and we brake sharply. Looks like the car won't go any further. We park it off the path in some shrubby vegetation, narrowly avoiding an army of procession ants (never ever let these little guys bite you; you'll be itching for days) as we climb out and tie on our…
Just a few kilometers ahead of Kathalekan along the Siddapur-Honnavar highway, a hidden swamp wallows in the low-lying dense forests of the Sharavathi. Malemane (literally "forest-house" or "house in the forest") falls along the Kathalekan belt of swamps, an interconnected series of Myristica swamps along a perennial stream. Each successive swamp collects runoff from the…
When interviewing locals to learn about their knowledge of swamps, Rohan and I stumbled across the legend of the krishnasarpa. But what is the krishnasarpa?
Deep in the heart of lion-tailed macaque country lie multiple hidden Myristica swamps. Rohan and I spent hours driving the (surprisingly) well-maintained roads, past faded signposts and countless towering arecanut plantations, past colourful houses and dry brown paddy fields, past patches of dry deciduous forest interspersed by cool, wet evergreen forests, until we finally reached…
On Life and Wildlife 