|Paddyfield pipits are inconspicuous to the inattentive visitor to a scrubland|
Larks rise up with a series of whistles and float down on outspread wings. Flocks of pipits erupt like clouds of undulating dust. Mornings and evenings, grey francolins rend the air with crescendos of “katri chor …katri chor”. And if you make yourself invisible, you can see them emerge and dawdle about. Your slightest movement is enough to make them scamper away, shaking their heavy posteriors, and take cover.
|A Grey Francolin proclaims its territory|
|A Common Pierrot just after rains that turned the grasslands lush green|
Black ibises dig their curved bills deep into the earth, looking for grubs, worms and insects. Quails wait until you almost step on them before whirring up in a startling escape flight. Winter beckons harriers, kestrels and Booted Eagles to take refuge in these habitats, as they take flight from the cold of the northern territories. Jackals, foxes and hares can be spotted, often with stray dogs in hot pursuit.
|A female kestrel keeps a lookout for prey movements|
|An excavator scours off the scrublands as cement mixers get busy|
|The sight says it all|
Next year, maybe the birds coming this side from the north might be in for a rude surprise… It really seems to be sunset time for Mysore's scrublands.
|Moments away from blackout?|