A Bit of Brouhaha in The Afternoon
Babblers, cat, and a rare cameo by the crow pheasant
Jungle babblers are known for their bursts of raucousness, notably during siesta hours of mid-afternoon.
They babble during foraging (sharp, nasal, interesting squawks), it’s especially funny when there’s a kid around — you’d notice ruffled feathered, determined juveniles begging vehemently for food, while fluttering their wings very enthusiastically.
The peak of babbling occurs when a threat is perceived. Here’s one minute of babbler's war cry.
Hearing this racket today afternoon, I stepped out in the backyard to record and check. I was sure it’s the tom who appears grudgingly for food.
Sure enough, I spot him.
He’s at an odd location, halfway up the terrace stairs in the corner, staring intensely up at a tree above my head.
I follow his gaze and look up at the blissfully green neem tree.
For a second I get a vision of Ryuk from Death Note. 😅
If its sudden looming wasn’t startling enough, this bird, perching quietly mid-tree was admirably magnificent in its calmness as well.
It appraised me as well as the cat with what seemed like cold objectivity. It took no notice of the screaming babbler flock around.
It explored a few other branches, before half waltzing, half flying away to the next housetop.
This was my first meeting with a Coucal.
I wish I could’ve heard its deep call… and also seen its plumage from closer.
The Coucal is common in India, and of chill nature that got them hunted widely around the British era. The Hindu calls it sluggish in nature, a weak flyer that hops swiftly through branches. It really is a terrestrial bird.
British soldiers mistook its pheasant-like tail to be a pheasant’s tail… and complained about the foul-smelling Indian pheasant in their letters to folks back home.
Interestingly, sighting a Coucal is considered a good omen, so they are pretty much left unharassed in most of India now.
It is indeed disturbing to see how the arbitrary human assignment of a creature into a harbinger of ‘good’ or ‘bad’ luck can determine the fate of its species.
Meanwhile, the babblers reminded me of a very agitated Captain Haddock yelling swear words.
They stopped shortly, as the ruffian departed.
Peace persists.
Snapshots © Shreyasi
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