Velrampet Lake - An exciting bird counting experience

Common Myna foraging along the banks of the lake

An American naturalist, Aldo Leopold once observed, “January not just brings a new calendar but also spring thaw.” And it’s the same across the globe. January takes away, with it, the pleasing cold weather; snow in some places (polar regions) and fog in other places. My place. Pondicherry.

I hit the road, gasping the morning breeze, to Velrampet lake. The headlight beam pierced through the fog-covered road. It was tough.

The roads were empty as it was early in the morning – 6 am – allowing me to ride with ease. Yet the fog was at a disturbing level.

It was not up to this level the day before, I thought. And while on the drive, it struck me as I saw people burning something. Yes, It’s Bhogi! The day before the most auspicious Harvest festival – Pongal.

It was on this day, people get rid of their old and unused stuff by literally burning them. People gather and discard their stuff by lighting a bonfire. The occasion is to discard our old belongings giving way to the new possessions.

So, its not fog but smog – perfect blend of smoke and fog. While morning breeze comforts you, the invisible particulate matter (PM) in smoke loots your lungs. And the best part is, you will never know until it gets worse.

Nevertheless, I was riding a bike and somehow managed to reach the lake despite all odds.

The atmosphere was serene as usual. Thanks to the fruitful monsoon season, the lake was brimming with water and it looked stunning. Common Mynas, standing on top of Raintrees, shrieked. Some even mimicked parakeets and crows.  

Serene Velrampet lake

A few birds dodged the Water hyacinth that had spread across the lake. Without further ado, I took out my binoculars and carefully screened the surface to spot and count them as part of Pongal Bird Count. My friends joined me for the event in observing and counting the species.

I saw a dark purple coloured bird from behind. There was a distinct white patch in its tail portion, which the bird was flashing while moving forward. It turned and its red beak glistened. It was a Gray-headed Swamphen; also known as Purple Swamphen or Moorhen. It wasn’t alone. I counted seven of them sitting together and a few more were scattered around playing hide and seek among the Water Lily plants.

Pheasant-tailed Jacana looking for a feed

Just as I was admiring the Purple Swamphen flock, I saw another small bird darting on the surface along the big round leaves. I positioned my binoculars and got a better view of its brownish exterior and its sharp tail. The huge slender feet effortlessly allowed her to walk on the floating vegetation.  It was a little smaller than the Swamphen. The dark brown cap on the head and black patch flowing along the eyes assured me that it is a Pheasant-tailed Jacana. It was a female because male Jacanas have a black exterior with yellowish patch on the white neck. The long-pointed tail is the highlight, especially during the breeding period. I noted three of these fellows (female) around the surface and that’s when I heard the distress call of the White-throated Kingfisher nearby. 

Poor little guy must be disturbed, I sighed.

One of my friends gestured to a horde of crows, approaching us. There were more than 10 crows scattered all over the place and my binoculars helped me to get a better view and I observed them chasing a bigger bird. A Raptor.

It was a Brahminy Kite!

Crows always have this tendency to chase away other birds, irrespective of its size and shape. They are brave. Many a time, I have seen them fiercely chasing Black Kites.

One such incident happened in this same lake a few months back. 

A black kite hovered over the lake for a minute before plunging into the water to catch a fish. Watching this from a distance, a crow started its chase targeting the kite. This little guy was literally pounding on a bird twice its size, in mid-air.  The kite didn’t want to lose its food, clutched onto the prey with its claws and picked momentum. The crow was in no mood to let go and raced behind. Both passed out of my sight in minutes. 

While its intention is largely unknown, one could see how vicious this species is.

There were a few tiny birds soaring up and down, swiftly. It was the Asian Palm Swifts with a streamlined body shape and sharp narrow wings. One by one, they came down to the surface, sipped a few drops while on flight. Swifts are efficient flyers that can do anything and everything onflight; hunting, drinking, eating and even mating. They have evolved over the years to exist with less sleep.

While adoring this wave-like patterns formed by the flock on the water surface, I saw something with an elongated neck from the corner of my eye. It stayed still like a sculpture before beginning to hunt for its food. It’s a big bird with reddish-brown breast and purple-brown plumage. The name is Purple Heron. I counted three of them as they dispersed on the lake. Next to them was a flock of ducks distinct in their caramel coloured upper body. Soon after another flock joined, and we heard sharp whistling noises. They were the Whistling Ducks. There were more than 35 of them, bustling around.

Little Cormorants drying their feathers in style

An alert Eurasian Coot

We spotted a few cute Grebes near the bank playinghide and seek with us taking frequent dips and looked very energetic. The Cormorants were drying their wings standing on top of a broken stem listening to Black Drongo’s sweet melody. Egrets, both lesser and intermediate, Black-winged Stilts and Eurasian Coots were having a good time feasting in the lake with vast resources. Full list of birds are recorded in eBird.

It seemed as if the flora of the area did not want to be left behind as we heard the clattering of Palm leaves and the branches of the Raintree in the wind; both found predominantly all along the banks of this serene lake.

A unique scent surfaced in the atmosphere, which was a sweet concoction of floating leaves, shaking branches, sparkling flowers and birds’ medley compelling me to recall the verse of Henry Thoreau, 

A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.