Suddenly, the sky swarmed with hundreds of Plum-headed Parakeets, uncommon visitors to Punchakkari’s wetland habitat
Since I moved back to Thiruvananthapuram last year, the Punchakkari wetlands have been among my favourite birding haunts. Since my parents live nearby, and it is fairly extensive, I find myself roaming there quite frequently. Sunday morning, despite the overcast conditions, I decided in favour of a stroll there with Nandakumar Ramachandran, fellow sojourner to Koonthakulam. As we walked along the slushy bund next to the Vellayani Lake, trying to find some macro photography subjects (the sky was so cloudy that we weren’t expecting a lot of bird activity), we heard a din. It was as vociferous as standing near a baya weaver colony in the nesting season, but the calls were altogether different. They sounded parakeetish, but definitely not harsh like the calls of Rose-ringed Parakeets (Psittacula krameri), which were the only parakeets I have spotted so far at Punchakkari.
As we walked ahead focusing our attention on a restlessly mobile Cotton Pygmy Goose (Nettapus coromandelianus), the calls got closer and I saw a few parakeets fly right overhead. I noticed long trailing, bifurcated tails in some birds and shorter tails in others. The cotton pygmy goose was quickly forgotten as I tried to get a closer look at the birds. The telltale maroon head of the male, and its maroon shoulder-patches, confirmed that I was staring at a Plum-headed Parakeet (Psittacula cyanocephala).
The males had long, streaming tails and the females had shorter stubby ones. I was totally perplexed (and still am) to see them here. I have seen Plum-headed Parakeets mostly in the foothills of the Western Ghats, or in open woodland such as mixed deciduous forests. I have had my share of encounters with them, mostly in groups of twenty or so, in dry deciduous forests at the foot of BR Hills and in Mudumalai. Here, they were all over the place in huge flocks numbering about five hundred. Punchakkari is quite removed from any kind of forest as far as I am aware and it is actually closer to the Arabian Sea. Presumably, the nearest habitat for them would be the Neyyar Wildlife Sanctuary, about 30 kilometres away.
This bulk migration had to have some solid reason, and some careful observation gave me a rough idea. The birds were flocking on the Australia Acacia trees, which were today adorned with bright yellow blooms. The birds were flying from tree to tree, busily pecking away in between the leaves — in all probability at their nectar, or flowers.
Another interesting behaviour I noted was their aggression: they behaved as if they had taken over the entire area. The usually noisy crows were perched together, as if boxed into a corner, afraid to make a move against the visiting horde. They restricted their action to the other side of the wetlands, away from where the parakeets were frolicking.
A black kite that ventured into the vicinity was mobbed tirelessly by the parakeets. I did not see them strike a single blow, but they enveloped the raptor from every direction. The kite, clearly overwhelmed, beat a graceful retreat. We spent nearly a couple of hours with these charming birds, though they didn’t let us get too close. By about 10 am, the sun came out and the clamour died down. We walked back, still full of questions more than answers, but even those questions were quite fulfilling.
Text and photos by Sandeep Somasekharan
He is an engineer by education, IT professional by vocation, and a hopeless dreamer since creation.
nice images, sandeep.i feel, even if i were there with you today as planned, i would have taken the role of a spectator…
some how birds and me do not mix it seems….
come to think of it i might even be wrong…. who knows…
let us go on the voyage during the last week end, this month……got to go away on work on wednesdy………
wow!!! wonderful!!! what an awesome sight it must have been….