Le Question: What colour is the eye of the Sarus?

Seeing eye to eye with the Sarus Crane evokes a host of questions and the answers aren't exactly simple

Shashwat and I were driving along a small arterial road in Rae Bareli, checking out the pairs of Sarus Crane (Grus antigone) among the paddy fields on either side. It was the end of a relatively warm November day, and dusk was imminent. We came across a beautiful female near a clump of reeds by the roadside -- though sexes are almost alike, I could tell since it was smaller than the male, which was foraging a few metres away.

Me: What colour is the Sarus?

Shashwat: Grey, White.

Me: What is the colour of its face?

Shashwat: Red

Me: And the color of its beak?

Shashwat: White, Grey

Me: And the eye?

Shashwat: The Sarus has no eye!

The Sarus hadn’t lost an eye but we were looking into the setting sun with the clump of reeds and the bird in the foreground. Its bright red eye was hidden in the glowing red skin of its head -- you actually could not see it. I knew the eye existed and that he was only telling me what he saw. We were both right, as a Zen master might say, but he was in the "moment"; the unconditioned observer.

Life notes from a sea of green

A bad day of birding need not be a bad day with nature, not when you have a lush green paddy field to adore

Another routine morning trip to see if I could catch some birds on the wing took me to a remote corner of Mandya, along a paddy field. Skies were clear from the rain that had cleansed everything the night before, and a September sun jovially smiled upon us. But birding luck didn't. All we got to see were a few egrets and black headed ibis, and a few weavers. 

Sneaking up on them, I lost my footing and fell amidst the paddy. As I hauled up my overweight frame from the (thankfully dry) paddy field floor, something tiny caught my eye. This orange insect clung to a paddy leaf, the tip of which held a glowing crown -- a tiny drop of water. It held onto the leaf, as if guarding the drop from being stolen, its eyes fixed on it.

Intrigued, I looked around for more and was rewarded by scores of other insects. No two were alike. A tiny white moth sat on another blade, wings spread as if in penance.

Another orange moth sat on a straight blade, looking down, possibly pondering over life's intricacies.

As if to test its resolve, Providence let a gust of wind blow another blade across, giving an illusion to the moth that it is on the crossroads of life. Yet, it preferred to stick to its blade.

More careful inspection showed many other life forms. A pied paddy skimmer dragonfly, a robberfly, a ground skimmer dragonfly, and some other teeny rock stars I couldn't identify. As I spent time observing and clicking them, this tiny ladybug materialized in a sea of green.

My day was made. Birds or no birds.

Text and photos by Sandeep Somasekharan

Wordless Wednesday - Who goes there?

Photograph: Sandeep Somasekharan