Sanctuary by the Highway

The last time I had been to Karnala was with a clear intention of reaching its bastion that is situated at 439m above sea level. It was also at a time when the word birding had just entered my vocabulary collection. The rain had lashed the steep slopes where the loose earth kept sliding every time the rain change its mode from slight drizzle to heavy showers. But the enormous trees whose large mature roots seemed uprooted, creped across the region ensuring that only a part of the earth gets washed away and rest gets retained to sustain the ecological balance. But anyhow, the topography keeps varying. What you experienced last year will get a refreshing look next year. And in my case, the visit was after six long years. Even this time, the process was no different. The struggle of the huge trunks along with its branches, leaves, fruits and roots to survive still persisted. What remains constant though is the freshness of its air that gets conditioned through the natural elements. One can realise a reviewing difference in the quality of air while passing through its adjoining highway that connects the Konkan region.

            

The eco-sensitive zone is home to numerous avian families; residents as well as migratory. It was the Little Spider Hunter I encountered first near the second entrance gate of the sanctuary. What I sighted was a struggle of that little bird busy fluttering its wings to build its nest. Flying rapidly from one branch to another and then from grassland to bushes to pick the exact size of twigs to shape its dream home. All in the interest to create a lasting impression on his only better half, I believe. It was not only him following the laws of nature but the whole avian family orchestrated their attributes; fluttering their wings, chirping out loud, soaring with female counterpart. The whole surrounding was dissolved in their deep emotions. A sudden cry of a handsome peacock pulled me to a caged zone where the rescued birds and small animals are kept. There were two mighty peacocks with female peafowl in their respective cages, a family of white rabbit, budgerigars, crested parakeets, alexander parakeets and black shouldered kites. Except for the budgies and parakeets (as they belong to the Australian Desert), I was wondering why the rest were caged than released in the same forest, which is an ideal habitat for the rescued. The caretakers had converted the place into a tiny zoo for those who find pleasure in mocking the caged. Was it really a haven?

But up and inside the forested region rest of the birds were spending time at their own behest. The Red Vented Bulbul, Red Whiskered Bulbul, Jungle Myna, Loten’s Sunbird, Green Bea Eater and a few unrecognised small birds were trailing swiftly across the invisible lanes. Time seemed simply flying with them. What I also liked most about that fine summer day is when I took a halt after climbing a few kilometres, my sweat drenched body was kissed by the gentle breeze of the hot season; an experience that I felt even when I took a break for the lunch.

Before I placed an order, my eyes kept wandering across the skyline. And to my wonder, my friend pointed at a wingspan with a white elongated patch beneath was fleeing across the invisible path. It was an Oriental Honey Buzzard, whirling in the sky and then vanishing in the thick foliage. When I was bringing my neck to rest, I saw that the tree opposite us standing behind the lunch home had a new visitor, Coppersmith Barbet. Flaunting its crimson forehead and throat, the little bird was silently preying on the season’s fruit; an act that reminded me that even I was famished.

The sun stood on our head, and families that had come for an outing, converged to picnicked on the lunch area; inviting macaques from the nearby woody region. We left the place and moved towards a cemented seat that was kept on the edge of a manmade periphery. As I rested my back, all I could see was thumb of the magnificent bastion standing tall and the dried branches of trees dotting the bottom of the hillock. When my glance slowly transformed into deliberate observation, my eyes caught hold of a movement that was almost camouflaged. It was the flight of Yellow Throated Sparrow that kept playing with my eyeballs. In birder’s language, it was a lifer. So finely it was merged with the surrounds, I couldn't read its features but the shutter speed ensured to encapsulate it in the memory card.

Treasuring the one act play, we moved deep into the wooded region to discover that the families of macaques who loitered and picnicked with humans some time ago were lost in the afternoon siesta on the hanging branches. Even though they were asleep, their acrobatic nature and balancing attributes were apparent. Adding to it was a typical homely scene of a mother carefully picking lice without disturbing her child’s sleep. Life, is no different, only the place of dwelling changes. Emotions are so well-connected.

As we proceeded, our surprises were fed with an unknown mating call. It was unstoppable that made us stop beneath a huge mango tree from where the sound echoed. After silently feeling the flow our breath for fifteen minutes, we saw that the bird took a flight to a nearby branch. It had a U-shaped design on the edges of its wings, which later after googling revealed that it was none other than a magnificent Malabar Pied Hornbill; claiming its territory; inviting his would be. 

Outside, at the second entrance gate, the little spider hunter was still busy following the laws of nature; building its nest, since the first rays of the sun. When I was about to bid goodbye, one more call stopped our stride. Within the dense region, right near the main entrance gate, an unfamiliar birdcall hooked us to stand beneath a yellow-flame tree, whose huge trunk gave us a chance to observe a handsome Orange Headed Ground Thrush. Just like most of the lifers that I discovered that day, he too was mellifluously beckoning his spouse. Seemed the summer’s humidity had least effect on the feathered vertebrate inside the thick vegetation. 

The day was not just another. As it filled my experiences with yet another travelogue that prompted me to pen down. Wondering, the lifers without any complaints were following the laws of nature, but on the other hand, humans on the highway were simply overtaking the rules that are meant to sustain the ecological balance.