The Tribune - Magazine section

A bird’s-eye view of Subathu
This small Himachal town is a paradise for birdwatchers. Spotting 30 species of birds on a two-day visit to Subathu, Lt Gen Baljit Singh (retd) comes back delighted.

IN FULL FLIGHT: Red-billed blue magpie

SOARING HIGH: Himalayan Griffon

Almost all birdwatching guides and gurus would tell you that clear skies, mild day-time temperatures, close-to-zero humidity and just the suggestion of a breeze is the ideal setting for birds to be out in flocks. This, mostly, holds true. But there are times when foul weather conditions can also be rewarding for bird watchers.

In the first week of February, we had driven to Subathu, about 45 km from Chandigarh, through several stretches of thick mist. However, late into the afternoon, when the sun shone through clouds for about 45 minutes, we were simply mobbed by birds from all directions. Since it had rained there, the birds were intent on making up for the lost feeding hours and, therefore, were much more tolerant of our proximity. From one spot and, in a matter of minutes, I saw many different kinds of birds. Among them were three species which I was encountering for the first time in the wild. And, all three had exotic plumages.

The white-crested laughing-thrush, the red-billed leiothrix and the grey-hooded yellow warbler—all moved into my vision more or less simultaneously. You could spot the laughing-thrush from a hundred yards as it is bigger in size than the other two species and has a loud, resounding, laughter-like call. Its physical presence is equally engaging: it has a large, thick, prominent snow-white crest, white breast and a broad, coal-black stripe on the eye which makes a dramatic impact. A bright chestnut-coloured band separates the dark-brown body from the white breast and neck to complete the exotic picture.

Within minutes I had unwittingly used up the 20 unexposed frames on my camera film. Just as well, because I could now sit back and watch them all at leisure. The grey-hooded yellow warbler’s whispered call “sweet-sweet” was a balm to the ears after the explosive decibels emitted by the laughing-thrush. This tiny 10-cm ball of bright lime-yellow fluff remains in perpetual motion, flitting from one place to the other. It appears as though it is attached to roller-skates. I suspect that the photographs of this bird in photo-guides must be of captive birds only.

Next there was a mixed party of several red-billed leiothrix and a few red-vented bulbuls and Himalayan Bulbuls. The red-billed leiothrix may or may not attract your attention by its soft rattling babble but the lacquered red of his bill and breast and the horizontal stripe on the wings will surely check you mid-stride. Its upper plumage is mellow olive, the belly white and the long tail ends in a sharp black fork.

This bird show came to an end when a gaggle of the red-billed blue magpies on pine trees took to chasing each other. Their noisy chatter can be best summed up as “a complex series of squeals, whistles and squawks.” But it is never offensive.

WINGED BEAUTY: White-crested laughing thrush

The next day was sunny. We were out of the house by sunrise. We went down a hillside and climbed another hill. Photography and birdwatching are great face savers when you are out of breath! When we gained the last ridge-top before breakfast, from a closeby dead tree came the rather faint sounds of hammering. There was a brown-capped pygmy woodpecker, a mere 13 cm from beak to tail. At about 3,500 ft, this may well be the altitude record for the pygmy woodpecker.

To work up an appetite for lunch, we gained several other ridge tops, ultimately reaching a pine-covered open patch, at least 1,500 ft above Subathu. By now the sun was fairly hot and a few Himalayan Griffons were floating on thermals, for the sheer joy of it.

As we settled to a sandwich-black coffee lunch, I noticed a bird hawking insects in short sallies into the air. It resembled the male magpie robin and so I took no further notice. But when it perched itself on a bush directly below, it revealed its power-blue head and nape. This was the first time I had spotted a male blue-capped redstart. Unfortunately, the moment would also be remembered as an opportunity lost forever as I wasn’t carrying my camera.

It was time for the last walk of the day, this time ostensibly to work up a thirst for a sun-downer. Descending through freshly ploughed terraced fields, we saw clouds of sparrow-sized birds. Closer observation revealed that the birds were plain mountain finch in flocks of hundred. With that, the tally of my first encounters in the past 24 hours stood at an incredible six. Of course, altogether we had seen more than 30 species in less than two days. Subathu is definitely an attractive destination for serious bird-watchers.

I am often asked how frequently I go birdwatching. The truth is that I never go birdwatching per se. Instead, I am conscious of the presence of birds always—be it when I’m walking, driving, travelling or sitting out with a book at home. For instance, on the drive back to Chandigarh, as we sat in a road-side eatery, we saw on the facing hill slope a Great Tit, a pair of Indian Robins and that inimitable songster, the blue whistling thrush. We also came across a Great Barbet, perched at eye level on a pine tree, so close that I could count his moustachio bristles. What more can one ask from life if you have an abundance of such pleasures?