Bird watching at a tank

by Athula Dissanayake

Way back in the mid 1970’s, I was still a schoolboy and had just started a new hobby, namely bird watching. Schooling in Colombo did not provide much opportunity for bird watching and therefore it was with much delight that I accepted the invitation of my aunt and uncle to spend the school holidays at their home in Kurunegala.

Their house, situated at Kaudawatte in a rural setting amidst paddy fields, coconut plantations and scrubland, was a haven for me as it provided ample opportunity to pursue my new hobby. Most of the birds I came across there were new to me. Eventually it became a habit with me to spend one or two weeks at their home during school holidays, and they always welcomed me with open arms.

My bird list grew rapidly and soon I was able to register my hundredth bird very proudly. It happened to be the Ceylon lorikeet, which was calling loudly on a coconut frond in my aunt’s garden. I hurriedly took notes in my field book for subsequent identification from a bird guide. This is a habit I would recommend to every raw bird watcher; for otherwise memory would play tricks when one attempts to write the details later, making identification difficult or inaccurate.

My two cousins at Kurunegala knew of every nook and corner of the neighborhood and took me roaming into the paddy fields, coconut estates and scrubland as well as along streams and into the jungle in the famous Elephant Rock at Kurunegla. The present day road along which a car would now take passengers right up to the summit was not in existence in those days, and we three boys joyously trekked along footpaths through the forest up to the summit, which I still remember with nostalgia.

One day they suggested that we should visit a small tank at Thittawella and so we set off, walking all the way. At the end of the long walk I set my eyes for the first time on this tank and immediately fell in love with it as it proved to be a refuge for water birds, which were at that time all new to me. Thereafter we made frequent forays to this small tank in the mornings or afternoons and spent hours at a stretch at the site.

We had all the time in the world and were not hampered in anyway by tuition classes as the present day kids are! I used to sit there and observe the abundant bird life, taking notes with meticulous care and attention to detail, while my two cousins who lacked such patience wandered off on their own frolics until I had finished my work. Later, back at the house, I used to copy these field notes and sketches of birds neatly on to a permanent record book.

Thittawella tank is situated along the Kurunegala-Puttalam road. It is small and is in a picturesque setting. Towards its southern end are some boulders of varying size standing in the water, which break up the monotony of an otherwise plain sheet of water. The largest of these is covered with scrub vegetation, offering refuge to many water birds, including herons and cormorants.

Varieties of water plants grow in different sections of the tank and offer varying shades of green. These plants consist of water lilies, reeds and many kinds of floating vegetation. The centre of the tank is mostly overgrown with lotuses with their beautiful pure white blossoms, while in the shallow periphery are the olu (Nymphaea lotus) plants with their equally beautiful, pale pink and white flowers.

These patches of vegetation are interspersed with stretches of unobstructed water glimmering in the sunlight. In the south-eastern horizon, rising out of the plains like giant sentinels, stand large boulders and mountains so characteristic of Sri Lankan scenery. On a poya day the rising full moon casts a magic spell over this peaceful scene and many an enchanting evening have I had while seated on the bund of this tank to enjoy its varied bird life and tranquillity.

To the casual observer Thittawella tank would, at first glance, appear to be devoid of any bird life. The bigger and more glamorous avifauna in the form of painted storks, pelicans, open-bills, white-necked storks and spoonbills would be prominent by their absence. It would be to the keen and patient student of nature that it would gradually unravel the mysteries that are hidden deep in the beds of reeds, clumps of water lilies, and tangles of floating weeds. I would sit on the banks, take out my binoculars and notebook, and wait patiently for things to happen, and they did happen gradually and unobtrusively.

Jacana

I noticed a strange-looking bird, like a young chicken, walking on the leaves of the water lilies. It was mostly white, wore a necklace of black and had a bronze back and short stump of a tail. It had several companions walking about on the lily pads. It puzzled me to see other similar individuals but with a different plumage, consisting of a jet-black belly and long black tail. They took to the air uttering strange cat-like calls (hence their Sinhala name halal-sera) and flew from one part of the tank to another like giant butterflies fluttering in the wind.

My notebook began to fill up with copious notes and sketches. That was my first introduction to the water birds of the tank and it was the beautiful pheasant-tailed jacana. The birds were in two different kinds of plumage, the non-breeding and the breeding. Later I would spend hours watching them walking daintily on the water lilies as their long toes helped to spread their weight over a large surface on the leaves. As they walked they fed on various small creatures and the vegetation. The jacanas flew low over the water in a tail-heavy flight with their long legs trailing behind. The black-edged white wings made a striking contrast against the green water plants as they flew.

Purple coot

Glimpses of brilliant blue patches among the vegetation on closer scrutiny revealed the presence of several rotund birds partly hidden among the plants. As I watched patiently some of them came out into the open and I had my first sighting of the colourful purple coot. It had a scarlet bill and long reddish legs. The plumage had various hues of blue in different parts of the body, varying from sky blue in the belly to dark purplish blue on the back. The short tail was jerked up repeatedly as it walked, flashing the white under-tail coverts. It constantly used to feed among water plants, a tasty morsel being held down with one foot while the bird devoured it piece by piece with its short thick bill.

The coots spent most of the day feeding, preening and resting while hidden among the vegetation and were not given to much flying. Towards the evening they came out into the open and were readily observed. The flight when undertaken was short and heavy as they flew up on to a clump of lotuses or reeds. Sometimes a sharp note “trrrt…, trrrt…” was uttered in flight.

I once saw a purple coot standing on top of a clump of reeds towards dusk. It bent down the reeds one by one with its bill and trampled on them, thus making a platform of reeds and then stood on it motionless for several minutes. With the approach of twilight it sat down on it, probably to roost for the night. Its mate also made a similar platform close by.

Teal

On scanning the tank carefully with binoculars, some brownish birds were seen, their plumage blending perfectly with the brown and green surroundings. These small duck-like birds kept to the middle of the tank. They were partially hidden by the vegetation and kept still, keeping a wary eye on any intruder. Thus I got my first glimpse of the whistling teal or the tree duck. Sometimes they would swim slowly in the open patches of water, but always keeping close to cover.

They were most of the time in small groups of up to half a dozen birds, but sometimes in pairs. From time to time a bird would put its head and neck under water in order to feed on aquatic vegetation. In the evenings some birds would take to wing and fly around the tank uttering their shrill whistling calls, before settling down once again in the water. They may circle the tank a few times or would fly away to a distant foraging ground.

It was sometime later that I was able to set my eyes on its smaller but more beautiful cousin, the cotton

teal. As I approached the tank one day, a pair of small ducks came flying fast and low and hit the water close to the shore without any apparent slowing down. They started swimming slowly in an open patch of water in a curious waddling action. The male was pure white in its head, neck and belly and a metallic greenish-black on the back. It had a black collar round its neck and was quite a handsome bird.

However its mate, in contrast, was an inconspicuous, brownish bird. After a few minutes they started bobbing their heads rapidly in unison as if agreeing on something.

They took off as suddenly as they had landed and flew away to the centre of the tank. The male displayed a striking white wing bar in flight. My subsequent sightings of them were few and far between owing to their small numbers and also to the fact that they merged perfectly with their surroundings as they swam among the lotus leaves.

Other water birds

As I sat patiently by, the tank day by day I became familiar with its other avifauna. A purple heron would stand motionless among the water plants in perfect camouflage as it waited patiently for a fish to turn up. It slowly extended its long cinnamon-coloured neck on the approach of a fish, and stabbed it with its dagger-like bill. When resting, it kept the neck curved in the shape of an S. When alarmed it had the neck pointing straight and upward. It kept still, the body merging perfectly with the reeds.

Scattered about the tank were numerous pond herons. Little and median egrets were ever vigilant in their quest for prey. A streak of yellow revealed a yellow bittern as it darted on blackish wings into a reed bed. This being the smallest member of the heron family, it was always difficult to see this bird owing to its skulking habits. A black bittern, with its brown-streaked neck poised to strike, walked stealthily along the edge of a reed bed. It was much more readily observed.

My curiosity was greatly aroused one day when I spotted several small birds swimming and diving in the water. I thought them to be baby ducks, but as I gathered more details of their brown, maroon and buff plumage, I realised that they were the dabchicks or little grebes. I was fascinated, and spent hours watching them swimming, diving and racing through the water chasing each other. As they did so they frequently uttered a shrill, high pitched call ” hi hi hi hi hi….” It was hard to tell where they would reappear after a dive. Occasionally, when swimming, a bird would stop, raise its body up, exposing the buff white underparts, and shuffle the plumage before resuming its swim.

I would get an occasional glimpse of a kora or watercock (wil-kukula, S) as it took a short flight among the dense bushes growing on the small islets in the tank. These shy, skulking birds are quite difficult to see and one would only be rewarded by patiently sitting and observing. During the breeding season they become vociferous and more active, taking short flights among the reeds and the bushes, thus offering a greater chance of seeing them.

Little cormorants and Indian shags dived for fish in the open stretches of water. Some were seen drying their outstretched wings in the sun, perched on a rock or tree stump.