It’s probably the hopeful brown-headed barbettes and coppersmiths who — just before winter has already healed — signal that spring is just around the corner. The kutru-kutru-kutaru call of barbets sometimes accompanied by the metallic hiccups of Coppersmith reminds you of a straight summer afternoon. Then all of a sudden, one morning you learn that change has taken place, that winter is over and that its expulsion by all the resident avian population is about to begin. in parks and Garden And in uninhabited areas, the barbet and tamarind are now joined by many other birds and it is time to re-acquaint ourselves with them and their songs and calls that lift our spirits even on Monday mornings.
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For the birds themselves, this means the start of another frantic season of finding a place to woo a mate and raise a family—and they approach it with apparently joyous optimism. All birds (usually mares) sing to inform their community that they have made it through the winter and are strong, healthy and very beautiful, looking for beautiful young partners and claiming the territory Wherever they are from. Barbets, Coppersmiths, Hornbills, Magpie-Robbins, et al. will find the highest point in the canopy and broadcast it Message All the more diverse.
Competition within and between species can be fierce – and sly tricks may be played. A magpie-robin found in Goa pretended to be three different males by singing three different songs from the same territory in order to claim an area that it might otherwise occupy (and which included a swimming pool). was also involved), thus discouraging other hopes of searching the area. As I’m typing this, brown-headed barbets are pouncing on each other, each trying to yell at the other.
Since many of our residents are cavity nesters, competition for hollows in tree trunks and twigs—and even holes in walls—can lead to strangulation. I’ve seen a hardworking little cupcaker being ruthlessly ejected from his hole by a brown-headed barbet, who in turn was kicked out by a black-finned flameback (golden-backed woodpecker)—which was taken for a week. Had to go inside. In a hurry when a swarm of bees came in search of a place for a new hive.
There is an excitement about bird calls and songs which is infectious and which makes you feel optimistic and excited despite the current state of crisis in the world. The sound of the gray hornbill (a large shabby bird, dressed in brown with a huge curved beak, but with eyelids to kill) opens and closes like a rusty gate, and still when you hit a The pair watch the pair flap and dip in tandem, calling out to each other and then sitting side by side, while the gentleman offers his girl neem berries (like offering an emerald with giant tweezers), you can’t help it. , but feel that everything will be all right. The two of them have a tough road ahead: the female will lock herself inside her hollow while incubating and her mate will feed her – and her babies – through a narrow slit until she is fit to emerge. Come and help them. growing family,
At the smaller end of the scale, the ‘gentleman’ purple sunbird, sequined purple and bluish-black in color, will begin to whirl around its mate, singing lustily and doing nothing to help as it sheds its prey from the garbage. The small hanging builds the jhuggi-jhomri and the spider-web where she will bring her family. Another small loudspeaker is the tailor-bird – (tovit-tovit-tovit) – maybe 5 or 10 grams in weight but all 100+ decibels in volume.
There are more sullen-voiced buzzards—especially the red-mustard ones, who look like a tall slender palace guard; Last year one did duty as my morning alarm all summer long and I am waiting for him to report for duty this year as well. flamboyant as March will give way to white-throated April Neelkanth The tongue will also give away with its shrill ‘kill-lil-lil’ call that rings on trees and rooftops.
In the parks and gardens of our city, magpie-robins are quite the maestro – though not taken by the tuxedo! When a woman (or property) is to be won, they may behave like proper hooligans, chasing each other fiercely through trees, screaming, with no quarters given or demanded. . If you give them a bad review they will hide in bushes and emit harsh threatening ‘churrs’! on you. But you will listen with enthusiasm when they sing up on top of the umbrella.
It’s worth going to an area at this time of year to listen to the Skylarks. The little skylark is a brownish biscuit-brown little fellow that rises from the earth itself, spirals into the sky and then flies in tight hazy circles, pouring out its heart in a beautiful non-stop trilling melody that’s a stretch. But for ten minutes. As soon as you start thinking it’s about to explode in a whiff of wings, it will fall silent and dive toward Earth, only to rise again in a matter of minutes with a repeat. Half a dozen or so of these hilarious spirits can perform at the same time over a large area. It’s a feat of something truly incredible Tolerance: Try singing and running several stairs at the same time without holding your breath or dropping notes and you’ll know what I mean.
The burst of spring birdsong will soon come to an end: once a mate has been wooed, and a home has been established, children follow the tout de suit, bobbing their heads. Who has time to sing now?