I wrote this in March 2020, and stopped. ” Writing in February (2020), I did not believe the world would turn in such a way as if nothing else matters, to be able to think of nothing else, but as a contagion which has afflicted the earth and its people in a hundred varied ways.…
We will never know what happened to the carcass of the other nestling as it emerged in the dim but clear photo, a tinier head wedged beneath its better formed and oh, slightly bigger sibling. My housekeeper had counted 3 eggs in the nest when she last peeped, but I had barely make out two…
The yellow-vented bulbuls have returned to nest again. This would be the fourth generation of sorts. They come, amidst great changes to the garden, its environs and the landscape about us, as urbanization inches its way towards our idyllic rural neighborhood and the ever pressing developments clang and clink. The black bamboos have been decimated…
The parents have emerged, as both take turns to feed the nestlings and to keep the nest warm. Here, a parent keeps a moment of vigilance on surrounding intruders before disappearing into the depths of the well-camouflaged nest in the bush. This is the crucial period for survival – humans can only keep a watchful eye from…