Melodies take wing

And what a worm it got the other day! I was shaving when I heard something thumping repeatedly on the asbestos roof. Intrigued, I checked — to find a ‘Whistling Schoolboy’ gripping a wriggling grass snake in its beak and thrashing it senseless on the roof. After some time, the bird picked up the limp snake and flew away triumphantly. Obviously, it had mistaken the snake for an over-sized earthworm — its favourite food. On another occasion I observed two mynahs squabble over a large earthworm — a mini-tug-of-war with the worm stretched taut between the two hungry beaks. It ended with the worm being torn apart, each mynah gulping down its half.

Indeed avian behaviour is quite fascinating. One morning last week crows flocked to the grassy patch in front of my house to feast on a swarm of winged insects. Noisy and overbearing, they monopolised the patch, gobbling up the insects and selfishly bullying away the few mynahs that tried to sneak in. When the crows left satiated, the mynahs descended in full strength to partake of the meal. And when the mynahs left noisily squawking their contentment, a pair of doleful-looking shrikes landed to mop up the left-overs. Like humans, the birds apparently have their own hierarchy where physical size and numerical strength do matter!

Give the birds an inch, I’ve discovered, and they will take over a yard — quite literally. In the process they will become bold, even downright audacious. When I read under the shade of the trees in my front yard, the insolent bulbuls and mynahs sometimes bespatter me with their droppings — somehow the sight of me lounging there appears to activate their excretory systems! Their accuracy is remarkable to say the least, forcing me to retreat indoors. Once I forgetfully left a cup of tea outside — and returned to find it ‘enriched’ with you-know-what!

Then my post-lunch siesta is often disturbed by a troublesome wagtail who persistently pecks on the window-pane, peeved by its own reflection! And it perversely does this only when I nap. There’s also a pair of amorous pigeons who brazenly neck and pet on the ledge outside my offce window. When I glance at them, they eye me reproachfully, making me feel like a voyeur!

But for sheer impudence, there’s nothing to beat the spirited sparrows in our local church. During mass the cheeky little pests will boldly hop right up to you, look you in the eye unfalteringly, then suddenly streak off overhead, squeaking and sometimes ‘strafing’ you with their droppings, much to your dismay and the amusement of the others. Or when the padre is in the middle of his eloquent sermon, a sparrow will repeatedly hover over him, wings flapping, uncertain whether the tonsured cranium below is a suitable landing site! In fact the sparrows even ‘anoint’ the statues in the church with impunity. Truly, familiarity does breed contempt.

Nevertheless, I find that the ideal way to unwind on a Sunday morning is to laze under the trees in my front yard with a book, listening to the lilting lullaby of the birds. Believe me, it’s a balm for frazzled nerves — if you don’t mind the occasional ‘sniping’ from above!