The first sign was the little silver bill — a small bird with a silvery beak that sat unsteadily on the pebbled pathway. I stood at a distance wondering what the little fella’s next move would be. Silver bills are beautiful birds that usually prance about in my backyard when the sun decides to shine brightly.
The silver bill was alone — quite unusual for its kind. They chat in large groups and they are anything but loners. I watched how she sat balancing herself on that long rounded piece of stone and then, without a warning, took off to a huge bush. I don’t know if her friends had a party there but I knew that the days of cold blanketed mornings would soon become a distant memory.
I wrote to my son about my encounter with the bird. “Warm days are ahead mom”, he wrote, “but, here I continue to shiver under layers of fleece”. Sonny boy is in a different time-zone where temperatures are not very kind to humans.
I read the sentence twice and thought about all the little indications I have been getting the past few days — the frenzied flights of the winged creatures holding out little twigs, threads, fluff — anything to make their homes.
I don’t know how the birds know that it is time to build a home, but their frantic activity around has given me so many smiles. Take the sparrow family that has taken up residence in the long winding climber up on the front porch. The climber isn’t strong. The little space that the sparrow couple have found is the gap between the main stem and a thin branch.
Intact through sandstorms
Both of them hold a lump of twigs that somehow has managed to form a circle with a small impression at the centre. How the house manages to stay intact through sandstorms and the rough winds is beyond me. But, the couple has been active — shooing away strangers, chirping loudly and staying guard. I can see the parent sitting still inside their wooded home and I can tell that very soon there will be flight lessons.
What surprises me most is the twig house on a tall tree. This house is not in the tree. It is wedged between the trunk and a very long palm leaf. I don’t know if there is a resident there because I cannot see anyone from below. I see some Bulbuls hovering about and I don’t know if they have managed to build their home there.
When I saw this for the first time about a week ago, I was reminded of the pictures I have seen of some of the luxury hotels that stand on the edge of a cliff to give the guests those spectacular views. Did our bulbul family have that in mind when they built it — I laughed.
On days when the tree arches along with the gush of the afternoon wind, I worry if the babies sitting cozily in the mass of sticks are safe. But the house is undeterred and dances along with the swinging branches.
Flying in and out
As if these two houses were not marvellous enough, a sunbird family has decided to start a family in a nearby tree. A long winding thin branch is holding a small bushy oval structure filled with moss, lint, thin sticks and some dry leaf.
The couple is busy — flying in and out. I like the way they work turn by turn, using their slender beaks to meticulously weave their home. A small hole opens out and I watch the parent sticking the head out to keep guard.
I don’t know which of these homes will survive the heat, wind, other birds and wildcats. But, as I sit down to watch them go about their business, my old friend the Indian Silverbill returns.
She is not alone. She chirps about gregariously and is flocking my backyard with a bunch of her friends. They take a tiny dip in the water I have placed under the plants. I watch them flit about and I know in my heart that the sunny days are back again.
Sudha Subramanian is an author and writer based in Dubai. Twitter: @sudhasubraman
