A Rare Sighting (Melghat Tiger Reserve)

We met at dawn. Yawning with smiles, Sahas and I threw our gear into the SUV as the sun crested the high mesas surrounding the Semadoh rest house in Melghat, marking the new day. As we drove along rock-studded dirt roads, Bora, our local guide, explained the rarity of the species we were about to observe. The species was once believed extinct, but though new groups were recently discovered in a few forests in the Western Ghats and nearby areas, the population had yet to be estimated.

A village whirled by, a river, then trees. Our driver turned the car off the main road into an empty forest – few leaves and hardly a bird in sight. Bora imitated the species’ call and described how we might see it, that it might take a while before it appeared. Sahas and I grabbed our cameras and binoculars and we three spread out, treading lightly among the crackling dry leaves that blanketed the forest floor. I began systematically scanning the landscape for mobbing songbirds that might betray the location of our carnivorous target and strained my ears to hear the familiar call. But hardly a minute passed before Bora pointed and said calmly in Marati, “There it is: the forest owlet.”



Small and mottled brown with the characteristic white abdomen, she was perched high on the dark branches before us, watching us. I imagine she knew Bora by now; Sahas and I were merely a few more captivated tourists he had brought to her feet. She twisted her head, scratched her feathered face and flew to a tree nearby while Sahas and I cooed at her every move. She was a beautiful owl, sitting in the empty forest, alone. Her solitude seemed to highlight her value - rare, perhaps one of only a few hundred or thousand of her kind. I marveled at her as she looked down upon us again before flying off into the day. Sahas mentally checked off the new lifer on his bird list while I quietly pondered how many more lifers the forest owlet would serve before the bird itself was checked off as extinct.