Spring in National Botanical Garden

Winter is our main birding season as migrant bird species arrive here from colder climates. At the end of winter, most birders – including myself - feel a touch of sadness at the departure of the migrants.

But this week I was pleasantly surprised when I visited the National Botanical Garden in Mirpur, Dhaka. Established in 1962, its 87 hectares are home to 68000 plants of all sizes and shapes. Naturally, it is a haven for numerous birds.

After spending a morning here, I realized anew that our resident birds are no less appealing than our migrants. At springtime, they fly around with renewed energy, not afraid to show themselves as they search for a mate during breeding season.

Soon after I entered the garden, I saw two magnificent black kites (bhubon cheel) chase one another, flying low over a meadow. On a nearby krishnachura tree, a fulvous-breasted woodpecker (batabi kathkurali) walked vertically up a dead branch, hitting the wood forcefully with its beak searching for insect-laden cavities. The secret to the woodpecker's vertical walk is its zygodactyl feet: the first and fourth toes face backward while the second and third toes face forward.

Nearby was a teak grove, where a large yellow leaf was moving suspiciously. Sure enough, behind it was a chestnut-tailed starling (kath shalik). The morning light accentuated its multi-coloured bill.

A spotted owl (khuruley pecha) was perched on another teak branch. Its large eyes quickly sized me up and then continued scanning 360 degrees for insects and small animals.

Nearby, a bauhinia (kanchon) tree was blooming with purple flowers. Among them flitted a big tit (boro tit.) Propelled by the energy of the insects it gobbles continuously, this tiny black-and-white bird skipped swiftly from branch to branch, foiling my attempts to photograph it.

Looking around the garden, I saw new leaves on many trees. Two trees with exceptionally beautiful red leaves were mohua and kushum. The mohua's leaves are smaller and redder than the kushum's. Other trees had sprouted tiny green leaves, but none as pretty as new mahogany leaves which make intricate dancing patterns against the sky.

Black-hooded orioles (holud pakhi) flew all over the garden, whistling sweetly. Atop a tall tree, a few early-blooming crimson mandaar flowers were scattered. The orioles flew from flower to flower, picking inside for nectar, flower parts and insects.

Frustration came in the form of other humans. Behind the rose bushes (the Garden sports 300 rose varieties), on a dark slope, I spotted an orange-headed thrush (komla dama.) It scampered when it saw me, flew and sat on a branch. Alas, just when I had it in my camera's viewfinder, two men appeared arguing loudly, frightening it away.

After three hours of carrying and lifting twelve pounds of camera gear, I was tired and ready to head home. On my way back, I found another surprise at the teak grove. A baby spotted owl sat outside its cavity, eyes closed, looking like a mummy. Presently, it sensed me and opened its eyes. Taking its time, it retreated into its home in the tree. Watching its hesitant movements, I wondered whether it would survive the sharp eyes of cheels or other raptors.

As I left for home, I realized how lucky we are to have these wonderful bird species living year-round in our country.

www.facebook.com/tangents.ikabir. 

                Winter is our main birding season as migrant bird species arrive here from colder climates. At the end of winter, most birders – including myself - feel a touch of sadness at the departure of the migrants.

But this week I was pleasantly surprised when I visited the National Botanical Garden in Mirpur, Dhaka. Established in 1962, its 87 hectares are home to 68000 plants of all sizes and shapes. Naturally, it is a haven for numerous birds.

After spending a morning here, I realized anew that our resident birds are no less appealing than our migrants. At springtime, they fly around with renewed energy, not afraid to show themselves as they search for a mate during breeding season.

Soon after I entered the garden, I saw two magnificent black kites (bhubon cheel) chase one another, flying low over a meadow. On a nearby krishnachura tree, a fulvous-breasted woodpecker (batabi kathkurali) walked vertically up a dead branch, hitting the wood forcefully with its beak searching for insect-laden cavities. The secret to the woodpecker's vertical walk is its zygodactyl feet: the first and fourth toes face backward while the second and third toes face forward.

Nearby was a teak grove, where a large yellow leaf was moving suspiciously. Sure enough, behind it was a chestnut-tailed starling (kath shalik). The morning light accentuated its multi-coloured bill.

A spotted owl (khuruley pecha) was perched on another teak branch. Its large eyes quickly sized me up and then continued scanning 360 degrees for insects and small animals.

Nearby, a bauhinia (kanchon) tree was blooming with purple flowers. Among them flitted a big tit (boro tit.) Propelled by the energy of the insects it gobbles continuously, this tiny black-and-white bird skipped swiftly from branch to branch, foiling my attempts to photograph it.

Looking around the garden, I saw new leaves on many trees. Two trees with exceptionally beautiful red leaves were mohua and kushum. The mohua's leaves are smaller and redder than the kushum's. Other trees had sprouted tiny green leaves, but none as pretty as new mahogany leaves which make intricate dancing patterns against the sky.

Black-hooded orioles (holud pakhi) flew all over the garden, whistling sweetly. Atop a tall tree, a few early-blooming crimson mandaar flowers were scattered. The orioles flew from flower to flower, picking inside for nectar, flower parts and insects.

Frustration came in the form of other humans. Behind the rose bushes (the Garden sports 300 rose varieties), on a dark slope, I spotted an orange-headed thrush (komla dama.) It scampered when it saw me, flew and sat on a branch. Alas, just when I had it in my camera's viewfinder, two men appeared arguing loudly, frightening it away.

After three hours of carrying and lifting twelve pounds of camera gear, I was tired and ready to head home. On my way back, I found another surprise at the teak grove. A baby spotted owl sat outside its cavity, eyes closed, looking like a mummy. Presently, it sensed me and opened its eyes. Taking its time, it retreated into its home in the tree. Watching its hesitant movements, I wondered whether it would survive the sharp eyes of cheels or other raptors.

As I left for home, I realized how lucky we are to have these wonderful bird species living year-round in our country.

www.facebook.com/tangents.ikabir.