The dawn is broken by the sound reminiscent of a toy gun. ‘Rat- ta -ta - tat !’ As I look around expecting a bunch of village children playing with the toy gun, I sense movement. High up in the canopy, a bushy tail is visible. As I stand still, the rust-coloured owner of the said tail runs down the tree branch. With tufty ears, beady black eyes, a pinkish nose, and a bottle brush tail, the Malabar Giant Squirrel is a sight to behold in the dense plantations and forests of Coorg. Said to be an indicator of healthy forests, this charismatic species is an important seed disperser. As I watch the arboreal beauty change colour with the rays of the sun highlighting its fur like a spotlight, the squirrel decides it’s had enough of my gawking gaze and bounds off to look for breakfast. With a fruit now firmly clutched between its paws, and ears twitching with happiness, I give it one final admiring look, and walk down the path to allow the Squirrel its privacy.

Humming to myself, as I navigate a narrow path, the air around me cold, probably due to water in the vicinity, a lilting whistle reverberates through the air. Too dense a path for school-going children to use I think to myself, when the answer to my confusion is cleared by the flash of an iridescent black and blue.

As I continue my trek to a gurgling stream, I see it sitting there with droplets from the stream forming a pattern on its ebony–black beak. Excited to get a clear view of the bird, I settle down on a flat rock to watch the Malabar Whistling Thrush or the Whistling Schoolboy, which is a favourite among birders for its stunning shades of blue and black and its haunting whistling call.

As the bird hops from rock to branch and back, another blue, this time a much lighter version joins my whistling friend. Puffing up its small body, the white on the chest spotless, and an envy of many cleaning agents, the beautiful White-breasted Kingfisher, chooses its seat right above the stream in search of a quick snack. It cleans its cherry red beak on a resilient branch while keeping one eye out for movement in the water.

Hoping for a hunt as I watch the bird preen itself, a ripple in the water, catches its attention. Stiffening its body, it dives beak-first like a fighter jet into the water only to come back up empty-beaked. Undeterred, it shakes itself, and lets out a series of shrill ‘kill -kill -killllllsssss’ an apt and impressive war cry, seconds before it takes off in search of a richer stream.

I decide to vacate my front-seat view of nature at play for another long walk down the plantation road. As I leave the canopy behind for a clear sky view, eerie childlike cries fill the air. A flock of Malabar Grey Hornbills. Chatty and probably complete with news for the day, they whoosh from one tree to another dropping a fig in their excitement. Leaving the birds to their reunion, I now take to an open road leaving the forest behind surrounded by the Great Rosewoods and Mahogany. With the songs and sounds a tad different on open ground, my eyes are drawn to the top of a beautiful Coconut tree, home to a family of Malabar, or Blue-winged Parakeets. An endemic species to the Western ghats, the Parakeets are stunning with their blood-red beaks, teal and black rings around their necks, and different shades of blue and green on their body.

A short, shrill screech is the sound these endemics make as they fly over the paddy fields and back to their tree home. I can barely get over their colours when a flight to my left catches my eye. An upside-down green object on the beautiful powder puff bush. Small, and light green with a red beak and no visible neckband/ ring, the Vernal Hanging parrot is the only Parrot species found in India. Emitting a shrill chittering sound as it moves through the bush barely visible despite its green, its habitat is now shared by excitable Purple Sunbirds hovering mid-air for a drink of the nectar from the bush. With their shrill ‘twek twek twek’ filling the air, the bush is now an activity centre joined in soon by its cousin, a single Spiderhunter. Their beaks are perfect for nectar drinking, and while the male of a Purple Sunbird dazzles, displaying its iridescent black-purple feathers, the female Sunbird and the Spiderhunter are more olive green-brown with pale undersides.

With the morning haze now lending its way to the bright sun, as I decide to end my walk with a cup of coffee while reclining on a beautiful planter’s chair, a melodious call of ‘kwee wee viu viu’ interrupts my thoughts of leisure. A sight of pure gold (no pun intended!) in the form of a Golden Oriole sits calling, bobbing slightly, its pinkish–red beak a beautiful contrast against its molten gold body, and its notes high, tuneful echoing through both the plantation and forests of the coffee heaven.

The songs of the plantation although diverse, always come together as one lending perspective to how nature is always harmonious and an equal platform for different voices!

Bhavna Menon

Bhavna Menon is an independent conservationist and a freelance writer. Having worked in the conservation sphere for almost 15 years, she has been in charge of planning and executing projects in line with conflict mitigation, creation of alternative livelihoods in tandem with community members living around protected areas and capacity building/training with the Forest Department frontline staff.

She also contributes to different publications, with a strong focus on covering conservation stories and people. Apart from working with organisations in the capacity of a Communications Consultant, she has been appointed as the Director (conservation) at Aaranyachar, a wildlife tourism outfit where she is in charge of promoting and curating ecotourism activities (community related) for guests travelling to different protected areas.

Songs of the Plantation

Bhavna Menon