46 The Birds in the Hills
The centre is situated at the top of a tea estate in the medium hills of Sri Lanka, about 1000 metres up, and naturally enough it is the hill birds that predominate here. Between January and March I saw over 30 different types of birds here, a couple of which are mentioned elsewhere. Of the others the first that really caught my attention was the White-browed Fan-tailed Flycatcher. A cocky little bird this, with a delightful 9-note melody that he sings after catching his prey. He is very agile in the air and will jump, turn and dive as he searches out his flying dinner. He is quite unafraid and one day as I was on my morning walk I saw one hunting from a rock on the side of the road and he was not at all concerned by my presence. I watched him for all of 40 minutes while standing not 6 feet away. His song, like a jazz tune in a minor key became the theme music on my walks through the estate.
Seen in the lower reaches of the hills were a pair of golden Black-Headed Orioles who had made their home at the top of a stretch of the road I called Bird Drive, which for some reason or other seemed to have more than its fair share of our winged friends. Other brightly coloured birds include the Scarlet and the Small Ninivets, both red and black, and the similarly coloured Crimson Backed Woodpecker. I saw a second Woodpecker also but could never get close enough to identify it. Perched at the top of the shade trees, and more often heard than seen, are Large Green Barbets, and their call back and forth echoes throughout the plantation. Wild sunflower adorn the path that leads back into the centre, and happily feeding on the seeds is the Ceylon Lorikeet, probably the most colourful bird I’ve ever seen, with a red crown and rump, orange shoulders, green wings and body, and when in flight the underwing shows up blue, a truly kaleidoscopic little bird.
The most numerous bird around the centre is the Spotted Dove, and I must say I don’t know how doves have got such a gentle reputation, because there are endless fights between them to sort out the pecking order, with one dove jumping up and landing, or attempting to land, on the back of another. Mating, and the play that leads up to it, seems to be the dove’s main interest in life, and the constant cooing and wooing of this tireless creature was as ever present as the sound of the wind.
Other familiar birds around include the Jungle Crow, and the inevitable Common Babbler. I’ve also seen on occasion his much rarer relative, the Scimitar Babbler. Chasing each other noisily through the trees go White Bellied Drongos, while quietly underneath a pair of Grey Tits forage virtually unseen. After a long migration in which he apparently forgot to stop, a White Wagtail made it to Sri Lanka, and came to visit us in the hills, though I’m told they only rarely visit the island.
When I arrived the Eramudu trees were in full flower, one of them I could see from my room and their bright red flowers were very attractive – and not only to me, but to every nectar loving bird in the neighbourhood, from Indian Mynahs, Red-vented Bulbuls, and Blackbirds to Tickell’s Flower-peckers, Purple Sunbirds, and Tailor-birds.
The tall grasses around the centre proved to be very popular with more than one type of Munia, and these tiny birds swinging back and forth on the stems were a source of great pleasure. At afternoon tea break we sat and watched a pair of Spotted Munias building a nest in a thorn tree nearby. A pair of White-throated Munias had their nest in a tree outside my room, and would arrive home for the night regular as clockwork just five minutes before the sun set. The rather dapper Black-headed Munias were also about in some numbers. Other birds around include those taking advantage of the air currents: mixed groups of Striated Swallows, and Alpine and House Swifts, hawking through the air after insects on the wing, sharply twisting this way and that as they adjust flight path at the last moment in order to snatch a tasty morsel from the air.
At a more leisurely pace a pair of Crested Serpent Eagles were often to be seen soaring overhead, their sharp eyes keeping watch for lizards and mice on the ground below. I’ve sometimes watched them soar from a position directly overhead all the way to the outskirts of a city lying in the valley below, a distance of maybe 50km. Given the right winds and air currents they can make the journey in minutes, and without effort. One day as I was returning to my room I saw a Black Eagle, a truly majestic bird, soaring a few feet off the ground in the fields around the settlement. With hardly ever a flap of the wings he soared up and down the hillside occasionally adjusting his wing-tips so as to change direction. I watched him for nearly half an hour and there was a sense of power and integrity about the bird that I’ve rarely come across before. After a while he flew a little farther away, above the shade trees on the road below, and must have come close to a nest, for he soon found himself attacked by a pair of Bulbuls. The Bulbul is a tiny bird in comparison, but quite fearless, and they flew over the top of our peerless Eagle and went for the upper neck as he tried vainly to shake them off. Eventually they drove him from the danger area and returned to care for their young ones, while the Eagle, quite bewildered I should think, headed off to a quieter area elsewhere.
As we sat in morning meditation each day there came the beautiful sound of the Magpie Robin who rises much earlier than any of the other birds. There is one who roosts in a tree near the hall and his song, as clear as a bell, greeted the first sign of dawn. He has a number of tunes that he likes, but sometimes it’s as though he’s forgotten them overnight and at the beginning his whistle is something of a search for the lost chord, as he tries out different combinations, before eventually ‘remembering’ one of his old favourites. When he’s found his proper voice once more then he’s off to perch at the top of the Sacred Barna tree, where his ability can be displayed to best advantage.
as I walked this wide earth
I pondered in my heart
whether it were still possible
for man to live with wonder
I sat down by a grand old tree
with mountains rising afore
and listened to children chanting
relating to the world around
has innocence departed from us
lost in that which divides?
or can we look anew once more
at the beauty of creation?