If you have never heard the evocative honks of cranes in their environment or better still never heard flocks of cranes as they pass overhead at sunrise or sunset in flocks of hundreds and thousands, then time must be made for this opera. I shall attempt to take you on one such special journeys that I witnessed in the greater Rann Of Kutch.
I had been to this part of the bird world a few times and heard stories of the phenomenon of migration of common cranes never having witnessed it, so we decided to visit at the end of February a time when they flock in the Banni preparing to migrate out of these winter grounds to their breeding grounds in central Asia and eastern Europe before returning at the end of September. This migratory cycle, a journey of about four thousand five hundred kilometers or more is completed in about a fortnight halting at several staging grounds where they rest and feed during this arduous journey. Along the way they face many perils in the form of predators, human and otherwise.Though large swathes of bog land and inaccessible swamp, their preferred landscape for nesting in central Asia and eastern Europe has been kept untouched, tourism does still seem to disturb them in their breeding areas.
Cranes are old world birds and do not take kindly to change. The status of Common cranes is marked as Least concern, meaning they are not endangered as of the moment. Though let us not forget the extinction of Passenger Pigeons in North America that disappeared from being a million strong to none within a decade. Nearer home is the story of the ubiquitous white backed vultures that seemed to dot the skies of north India in the 1980's and were thought to be in the millions to a species struggling to escape extinction in a matter of a decade or two.
We were greeted by Chetan our eagle eyed driver, happy to meet us once again with a wide smile and the the ubiquitous Gujrati greeting of “Aaojo”. Our luggage bundled into the jeep, Chetan was questioned about the cranes but before he could answer his phone rang and we had our answer for his caller tune was the calls of the cranes.
The journey from Bhuj airport to Nani Virani where we were put up in CEDO run by Mr Jugal Tiwari passes through agricultural fields with plantations such as mango, date etc “greening” the otherwise dry countryside. Check out the wires and electric towers and you are sure to find something exciting. Today we made it straight to the home-stay and after a quick breakfast were out for a late mornings bird-watching. It was a short interesting session to Bhimsar Lake en-route to which we encountered warring raptors of three species trying to steal a prized catch from each other.The winner a common Buzzard circled back to a tree nearby to enjoy the meal. An Indian Courser kept us amused bowing and stooping on in-proportionately long legs in very comical fashion.
We returned to a sumptuous lunch and restless rest before the afternoon session. The drive towards the village of Fulay was over a tarred though broken road. Driving initially through open fields, some fallow as of the moment, awaiting the next crop while others with ripening crops of castor and cotton.
On approach to Fulay we were surrounded by thick growth of Prosopis juliflora along with Acacia on both sides of the road. We would visit Fulay for a few special encounter the next morning, but that's another story.
Soon after passing Fulay the tarred road gives way to what seems like a vast unmarked dust plain to the first time visitor. But look carefully and one begins to see the well marked tracks worn in by repetitive use. Dust billows around us covering the vehicle in a layer of fine light beige powder. We made our way towards a small rocky hillock that almost seemed like an oddity in this vast flat land. Information was being exchanged during the drive about the possibility of Sociable Lapwing sightings, but that was not to be.
On reaching the the hillock we picked up a sighting of a Red- Tailed Wheatear. This species seems to inhabit this area regularly is what I noticed from other people reporting the species from the same hillock as can be made out from their images. Some of us scampered up over large boulders to get a better view of the area while I snooped on the wheatear.
A Montagu's harrier managed to hold our attention for some time before he vanished into the unending blue. We drove on towards Charri Dhand, windows open in complete defiance to the billowing dust, we could hear faint distant sounds over the whistle of the wind. The dust plain now was regularly interspersed with scraggly bushes, here we had our first encounters with the cranes in flocks of a few to a hundred or more in each congregation.
They were shy and would not tolerate approach.
On reaching Charri Dhand we were greeted by a most foul stench. The watchtower stood tall in front of us with the back drop of the Charri Dhand and distant hills. A rotting buffalo carcass, partly decomposed and dehydrated or what was left lay in a beige dry landscape, the blood having dried a long time past. Here a healthy tallish dog caked with mud probably from his scouting the edges of the lake was gnawing on the remnants clinging to skin and bone, with few house crows in tow. Numerous wagtails belonging to three species completed the guest list at this diner while greater short toed larks hung around in the distance. The circle of life in motion.
We circled around the carcass and waited atop the watchtower scanning the Charri where large numbers of Pelicans, cormorants sat on what seemed like islands. Ducks, Avocets and Great crested Grebes preened, roosted or dived for food. The odd Harrier quartered the grassy edges of the lake.
As the light began to fade and the sun made its journey towards the western horizon the whole landscape began to erupt with strings of cranes breaking up the the sky which itself was transforming to a light blue with streaks of pink and orange, lifting our spirits.
The cranes seemed to create fluid streamers across the sky. The streams of cranes merged and diverged only to merge again as on cue heading over the Charri and on into the yonder. Cranes have a habit of calling incessantly to each other while on the wing. These honking calls of “ Kraw Kraw” seemed to permeate every Zarra ( I use this word for the lack of an romantic equivalent in the English language: would mean every particle or atom.) of the atmospheric theater.
This drama continued as we watched mesmerized, a cup of tea in hand seated atop our vehicle while others leaned against the windscreen.
On the left the sun dipped further outlining kiro and enveloping it with hues of deep orange. Kiro is a volcano that has not erupted in a long long time but keeps an eye on this landscape of many extremes, residing in the memories and lore of the natives of the land.
In the distance a buffalo herder drove his possessions home, kicking up dust that hung around their ankles as more streams of cranes surpassed them. Soon the blues, pinks and oranges changed to an inky darkness and yet we could hear the late comers making it back to their roosts. Soon we stood in complete darkness still trying to absorb the phenomenon we had witnessed, it was Mahashivratri, a moonless night that gave us fantastic views of the milky-way.
The next day we made a long journey seeking a few species, but it was planned in such a way that we enjoyed breakfast with a family of cranes,hiding ourselves behind a few bushes to keep out of their direct line of sight. The flock that included adults and juveniles seemed to accommodate our presence but with a lot of suspicion.
After a most satisfying day of bird-watching at the other end of the banni we were back on the shores of the Charri Dhand for an encore of the previous evenings show. We timed it just right to catch the evening show again and this time we were joined by two herds of camel that came to the shore for a drink. An errant youngster in the herd who could not decide which troop he wanted to belong to galloped too and fro. He was creating chaos and confusion in the most adorable childlike fashion before two adults sorted him out and improved his mind.
As we headed back we had a brief encounter with a jungle cat that played hide n seek with us between beams of torchlight and the scrubby bushes. A few jackals passed us by brought to notice under the glare of a weak torch, they decided to give us a wide berth.
As we packed up to leave, satisfied for the moment. I knew the urge to revisit had already taken seed in some corner of my mind and it would only grow with time.
Comments