And the Rains Came...

  Masinagudi, India
Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Samy and I ducked silently through thick brush. There, just thirty feet away, was a leopard resting on a branch of an older leafy tree. We watched for a minute before the leopard jumped into the brush under the tree.

Samy was a tribal villager with one of the keenest eyes east of the Western Ghats, a global hotspot for biodiversity. His English was sparse, as was my Tamil, the language of Tamil Nadu. We communicated best just walking though the forest listening and pointing quietly. He was my guide as I hiked for a couple of days around the dry deciduous forests in the rainshadow of the tall mountains to the west.

For four days, I stayed at Secret Ivory, a guest house abutting dense forest, a perfect place to watch nature and wake at dawn to the sounds of thousands of animals big and small.

The rains fell in the afternoon and at night, breaking the long dry season drought to a show of lightning. Grasses began to sprout. Termites by the millions donned wings to leave the soil and reproduce. The earth smelled rich and deep, like it had been waiting for this moment for a long time and was taking full advantage.

Samy and I hiked past and through these termites and the changing soils, up towards a forest reserve area called Bokapuram and Solur. The forest reserve was an alternative area to hike, as both nearby national parks were closed because of fire danger.

We began in dense bamboo thickets, towering into the sky among patches of evergreen forest. Following the sounds of the jungle, we found several Malabar Grey Hornbill and a group of Malabar Flying Squirrels, two endemic species found in these mountains.

Several hours later, we were high in the mountains, eating bushbari straight from the tree. These small fruits pack the vitamins of four apples. Though the taste is somewhat unpleasant, if you sip water afterwards, the drink becomes sweet as your taste buds change to relative tastes.

Earlier, we had passed a wretched smell, a decomposing sambar--tiger kill--putrifying under a dense canopy. Below the trail, a Sloth Bear had freshly dug for termites.

From a promontory, we listened to elephants far in the valley below. A bison, locally called the Katermai, walked at the foot of the granite bluff. Above, two butterflies, locked together, performed sky mating. An electrifyingly blue Asian Fairy Bluebird sang from a nearby tree, perhaps the most striking bird I have ever seen.

We returned to a small village far below, where the Thodas tribals were celebrating at their Mariaman Temple, constructed by the Indian government. Relationships between the tribals and the government have been strained, as each vies for control of resources. The tribals once held forty local forestry department staff hostage, I was told. For a while, we all danced together before I returned to Secret Ivory.