One of my biggest surprises on my last trip to India was encountering several giant squirrels. I am use to the cute and cuddly squirrels of North America, so it was quite a shock when I first saw one of these tree beasts. Measuring a body length of around 14 inches, and a tail length of over 2 feet, these squirrels were bordering on raccoon size!
One of the squirrels had gotten ahold of a banana from someone in our forest camp in Mudumalai. He took it up into a tree and proceeded to devour it, holding it firmly in his dexterous grip while balancing his body weight across a small branch.
This is a tree dwelling species that rarely leaves the upper canopy. I felt lucky to see three of these shy creatures in less than 24 hours. My last sighting was a stroke of luck. We had pulled over to let the car rest half way up a long a winding climb up to Ooty. One side of the road was a cliff towering above, and the other side was lush with the tops of trees growing far below. And there through the canopy, directly at eye level was another giant squirrel.
I got several photos of this guy, but this was my favorite. Although I had a direct view, I shot through some leaves at a wide aperture to give the feeling of peering through a thick forest at a shy, solitary creature.
The crackling of distant thunder woke me from a deep sleep at 4:30 in the morning. Instantly wide awake, I looked to the floor-to-ceiling windows to see flashes of light behind the thick drapes. I made my way out of the door of my bungalow to the balcony overlooking a wide expanse of the desert valley. Suddenly a lightning bolt ignited the night sky, silhouetting the 1000 foot dunes in the distance.
It was my last morning in the middle of the Namib Desert in western Namibia. I stood on the balcony in awe of mother nature’s light show. Lightning continued to split the sky as pregnant thunder clouds rolled across the endless dune fields. A dry cool wind was whipping across the desert floor, bringing respite from the African heat. All at once, the sky opened up and I stood in one of the most impressive downpours I’ve ever witnessed. This land receives only 10 mm of rain each year, and here was buckets of water drenching everything to the horizon.
Although I was now soaked, I found that I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. After twenty minutes of intense rain, it suddenly stopped. Ten minutes after that I was dry, thanks to the return of the desert’s typical aridity.
I gathered my gear and met up with my traveling companions, who I was planning to join to do an aerial shoot at sunrise. Obviously these plans were quickly scrapped, as none of us wanted to be tossed around in a small aircraft in the middle of a thunderstorm. Instead, we headed out into the desert where we got into position to capture this marvelous sunrise over the Naukluft Mountains. Clear sky to the far east allowed the sun to light up the underside of the storm clouds, painting the sky a deep red. A couple of gemsbok oryx crossing the desert floor in front of the mountains added the icing on top.
Although there was not enough accumulation to create pools of water (I was hoping to find a reflection opportunity), the wet sand lent a very different look to the massive dunes. The water softened the edges of sand cut by the wind, diffusing the contours into abstract patterns.
The red-vented bulbul is common across the Indian subcontinent and has been introduced to other locations such as Hawaii, Fiji, Argentina and New Zealand. In fact, this species can so easily establish itself in new locations it is included in the list of the world’s 100 worst invasive alien species.
I came across several of these birds over the course of just two days, a couple of which I managed to photograph.
This bird gets its name due to the red feathers at its vent. However, these feathers are often hidden while it is perched, forcing identification through other means. It has the characteristic crest of a bulbul, and a scaly feathered body.
My main challenge with these photographs was getting close enough to the birds. I was not using my regular bird lens, and only had a 400mm with me, forcing me to put my stalking skills to work. Luck was in my favor and I managed to get close enough for some decent shots before they flitted away.