A dim-lit light
By: Nitin V Ranga Rao
Tags: Night, Nocturnal Animals, Ecology, Wildlife, Experience

A partial view of my garden

As I sat on my balcony bench with a strong cup of filter coffee, I gazed into the not-so-starry night sky. The dimly lit street light illuminated my garden ever so slightly. Unfortunately, my eyes had not adjusted to the darkness, and I could not observe any creatures in the midair. However, my ears could pick up reverberations of an assortment of animals. The cacophony of nocturnal animals reverberated through my ears, and I honed onto their sounds. I could undoubtedly recognise a few of those sounds. The crickets’ stridulations, the clicks and chirps of the bats, and the screeching of spotted owlets, my night was not that silent after all. The night had so much to offer, I thought to myself. The night showed me such exhilaration and, I eager to see what I could look forward to for the rest of the night.

As my sight adjusted to the low light, I could now see a plethora of activities. First, I could see the giant fruit bat flying across the garden to get to the ripe fruits of the mango trees. Next, there were smaller bats that were flying erratically, probably to catch insects. I could hear their chirps as they got close to me, and within an instant, they were gone. Bats use echolocation to orient map their environment. Their ostensibly erratic flight patterns are not unpredictable as they follow detailed internal maps. Finally, I saw the silhouette of two-spotted owlets perching on the father edge of the defunct lamppost. The bats would fly around the garden scanning several trees, and land on a branch hanging upside-down feeding. There were intermittent screeches and shrill noise from the resting bats. Sip-after-sip as I consumed my coffee, I tuned in to the activities around me. My senses were on a hyperdrive; I could see a little better, smell the fragrance of the jasmine flowers in the balcony, the breeze that touched my sink was cold, and my hearing was as sharp as a bat.

My attentiveness amplified, and straight away, I heard the loud call of a house gecko. At that moment, I started to observe the tiny creature scampering on the ceiling. As I stared at the top of the balcony ceiling, I could see a common house gecko eying a moth. The gecko’s tongue protruded outwards, and it dabbed its’ eyes. Someone unfamiliar with this behaviour would assume that the gecko was licking its lips, looking at the morsel of food just as a child would look at a chocolate bar. But, as patient as a monk, the gecko stood still and had only one thing on its mind, the moth; the hunt was afoot. The moth fluttered its wings mesmerized by the light; it soared to and fro from the ceiling lamp. The gecko was waiting for the moth to disembark. The moth, now exhausted from hovering, settled down. The gecko was now at a striking distance from that moth. As the gecko lunged forward, the moth had no chance of escape, and the gecko gobbled it up.

The predator-prey interaction unfolded right in front of my eyes. Even though the predator was not as charismatic as the tiger and the moth as endearing as an Indian Gaur, the hunt’s underlying principle remained the same. This episode started a chain of thought as I pondered over the workings of the natural world. I was neither in the jungles of Bandipur, watching a tiger stalk a deer, nor was I in the Serengeti observing a pride of lions ambushing a cape buffalo. Instead, I was seated in the comfort of my home as I watched the hunt unfold right in front of my eyes. The predator-prey relationship’s underpinning phenomenon is identical for any species in the animal kingdom, be it a gecko and a moth or a tiger and a deer.

One always likes to witness grandiose events in nature and often perceives that the bigger the animal, the greater the drama. Yet, for me, at times, small things seem extravagant. It’s not that I would not enjoy the big game safari; believe me, I thoroughly do. However, at times situations like the gecko’s hunt make me ecstatic, and I often find myself reminiscing the feeling of contentment. This newfound appreciation for the natural world is due to the time I have spent outdoors and an immense interest in the working of nature. I recently noticed that the more I learn, the more I have started appreciating more minor things. One need not expend too much energy in experiencing nature away from where you stay. All you got to do is look around and observe. You might be surprised by what you see.