Encounter: Himalayan Bluetail
What do you call a bird with no name? Or one whose name has been changed lately? Such questions such briefly but subside when confronted with the dazzling beauty of the Himalayan Bluetail — or…
Nature’s Layers Unravelled – Encounters with birds, beasts, and relatives
What do you call a bird with no name? Or one whose name has been changed lately? Such questions such briefly but subside when confronted with the dazzling beauty of the Himalayan Bluetail — or…
To derive joy from the simple act of birdwatching, all you need to do is wait, watch and listen. Jennifer Nandi reveals the Birding 101 in the third episode of her travelogue on Bedni Bugyal…
Walking in the Himalaya offers the pleasure of a constant flirtation with epiphany, learns Jennifer Nandi A stream en route to Didana from Loharjung A morning of magic greets us. Arrogant blue skies goad us…
Traipsing in Lord Curzon’s footsteps, we embarked for Bedni Bugyal knowing little of what to expect, and least expecting what was in store for us… Editor’s Note: In April-May 2007, six of us made a…
Why call it a chestnut-tailed whatever when no one notices the colour of the tail? Bar-throated Siva? Ah, that’s another story.
Meeting the Bar-headed Goose, arguably the world’s highest flier, in its breeding grounds at 15,000 feet is a rare and humbling privilege
Ladakh’s bleak and bare landscape springs to joyous life when Himalayan Marmots, these oversized ground squirrels, come out to play.
It’s easy to see why Lord Shiva fell in love with the Ganga. Mere mortals can be hopelessly smitten.
Half-mouse and half-hare is the Royle’s Pika. One of the most adorable mammals in the Himalaya
I woke up at half past five to a clear dawn sky. There was a cold edge to the happy laughter of the brook. Ambling down on creaky knees to wash, I heard an excited chirruping and saw two lovely white-capped water redstarts (Chaimarrornis leucocephalus) chasing each other up and down the length of the brook.
At 7,138 m, the Chaukhamba massif is huge and cold. The permanent layer of snow on it influences local weather and explains the shroud of clouds around it.
Our destination is Tungnath, the third Kedar, and my purpose is religious only in a pagan sense. To walk the wild Himalayas, breathe their bounteous air, encounter their wildlife, their trees and wildflowers, rivers and springs, and to be at the mercy of their elements is pilgrimage enough for us.
Like thousands of coins jingling in hundreds of fists, the chirruping of sparrows heralds dusk. Trees quiver as roosting flocks fuss like train passengers arguing over berths. The din dies down with the fading light…
Even a peacock must bow to this unchallenged monarch of mountain fowls, the majestic Himalayan Monal