Rendezvous with nature

Rajnish Wattas

During the time when everyone is staying at home, life doesn’t have to essentially become boring. For me, necessary joy is being generated by keeping in touch with nature.

With the change of our quotidian rhythm, instead of the usual brisk morning walk in a neighbourhood park, I now do a leisurely stroll in our tiny lawn. I pause to admire the bottle brush trees across the boundary wall laden with red brush-like flowers, popping out from dainty feathery leaves. The small-sized trees with rough barks make them a favourite with squirrels who do a myriad acrobatics and scamper from one branch to another. Suddenly, I spot a parrot in its green feathery coat with a red band around its neck, fluttering his magnificent plumage. The similar red and green colour combination of the bottle brush trees might have perhaps fascinated him too.

Looking down on the surface of the uncut lawn, I spot little star-like yellow flowers carpeting the surface. Wondering if these could be a ‘desi’ version of dandelions, I call my horticulturist friend to identify them. The answer is no! These are just seasonal weeds, but how beautifully they embroider the green carpet of lawn with nature’s artistry.

In the distance, I espy a ‘kachnar’ tree in bloom with its pink-white blossoms. Even if I can’t go near it, its powdery sprinkle of blossoms fallen on the ground can be smelt by my mind’ eye. A sleeping seed of nasturtium suddenly sprouts out from slumber and shows up its orange yellow flower in a small crack in the driveway.

In the little vegetable patch in our backyard, brinjal plants have overnight adorned small purple flowers. Even if they bear little fruit, the patch is worth its floral beauty. And right next is a patch of ‘methi’ (fenugreek) that with the onset of warm weather has become overripe for eating, but gets speckled with yellow flowers in preparation for bearing seeds. These are short-lived flowers and remind me of Robert Bridges words:

“I have loved flowers that fade,

Within whose magic tents

Rich hues have marriage made

With sweet unmemoried scents…”

In spring, there is much mellifluous birdsong to bow our heads to for their divine orchestra. If you spot the long-tailed tree pie bird you can expect a ‘grating overture followed by tinkling of bells’ unlike the coppersmith’s ‘drab koob koob’. Of course, the ever quarrelling noisy babblers will have to be ignored. In March, the dwarf variety of a mango tree in our backyard begins to don fragrant blossoms holding promise of basketfuls of luscious fruit. If you get lucky, you may spot or at least hear a ‘koel’ hiding amid the foliage. If you’re lazy, then you will rue like the poet James Stephen:

‘I heard a bird at dawn

Singing sweetly on a tree,

That the dew was on the lawn,

And the wind was on the lea;

But I didn’t listen to him,

For he didn’t sing to me.’

My favourite readings on identifying trees, flowers and birds is Khuswant Singh’s ‘Nature Watch’ and Indian Birds by Martin woodcock.

The ‘stay at home’ can turn into a houseful of wonders, if only we see and hear them.