Sighting of a Great Bittern in Lahore Suburbs: A Rare Encounter

( All pictures are taken by me, kindly respect copyrights) 

06th October 2024 (date of sighting

Every Sunday, I ventured into the suburbs of Lahore with my camera, exploring ponds and marshes that serve as bird sanctuaries. On one such day, during a quiet stretch of birdwatching, I caught a glimpse of movement in the tall grasses near a marshy wetland. Initially, I thought it was a common resident like a Purple Heron, but something about its posture made my heart race. Raising my camera, I realized I had spotted a Great Bittern.

The Great Bittern (*Botaurus stellaris*), a large heron-like bird, is known for its exceptional camouflage, blending seamlessly with reeds in wetlands. This elusive bird often remains hidden, its presence betrayed only by its deep, booming call, which resonates through marshes during breeding season. Spotting it in Lahore, where wetland habitats are shrinking due to urbanization, felt extraordinary.

The bird stood motionless in its signature "bittern stance," neck extended upward, mimicking the vertical lines of the reeds. For several moments, it remained still, and I felt a profound connection to this rare creature. This species is notoriously difficult to observe due to its secretive nature, freezing in place when alarmed. Seeing it so clearly was a rare privilege.

Great Bittern sightings in Lahore and its suburbs are extremely rare, and I haven’t seen any recent records on eBird. Their preferred habitats—undisturbed wetlands—are rapidly disappearing due to urban expansion, leaving fewer places for these birds to thrive. This sighting, however, suggests that small pockets of suitable habitat may still remain.

As a birdwatcher, it reinforced my passion for conserving the remaining natural habitats around Lahore. Such rare sightings show that there is still much to discover in the wildlife around us, and it’s crucial to protect what remains.

𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗕𝘂𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗶𝗹 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗱: 𝗔 𝗥𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗘𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗢𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗟𝗮𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲

( All pictures are taken by me, kindly respect copyrights) 

08th September 2024

Male & Female

Urbanization often disrupts wildlife habitats, yet occasionally it produces unexpected benefits. A prime example is the Lahore-Sialkot motorway, where human development has unintentionally fostered a thriving microhabitat. The elevated road and its sloping embankments have become a refuge for various bird species. On these grassy slopes, Prinias flit through the undergrowth, bee-eaters dazzle with their swift flights, and bitterns stalk quietly around the wet patches. Ponds formed by runoff have further enriched the area, creating a bustling ecosystem amid the modern infrastructure.

Not long ago, I was fortunate to spot a pair of Barred Buttonquails along these embankments. They were quietly foraging on the ground, nearly invisible due to their remarkable camouflage. Their barred brown and gray plumage blended perfectly with the dry earth, making them easy to miss unless observed closely. It was a rare and thrilling encounter with these elusive ground-dwelling birds, experts at remaining hidden.

The Barred Buttonquail (*Turnix suscitator*), often mistaken for a true quail, belongs to the unique *Turnicidae* family. Unlike most birds, these buttonquails follow an unusual reproductive strategy. In a fascinating role reversal, the larger, more colorful female leads the courtship, while the smaller male takes on the responsibility of incubating the eggs and raising the chicks. This rare behavior is just one example of nature’s remarkable adaptations.

Male smaller in size

Female larger in size

Pair

Barred Buttonquails thrive in areas that offer plenty of cover and food, favoring grasslands, scrub, and forest edges. They are often drawn to agricultural fields, where the quiet environment provides ideal foraging grounds. The motorway’s embankments have inadvertently created such a habitat, giving these birds a safe space to search for seeds, insects, and small invertebrates.

Despite the busy traffic nearby, this new habitat highlights nature's resilience. The construction, designed to elevate the road, has unexpectedly formed grassy slopes that now provide shelter for species like the Barred Buttonquail. Observing this pair reminded me how wildlife adapts and thrives in even the most unexpected places, coexisting with human development.

The Forgotten Shamshanghat of Taxali Gate Lahore Reemerges

Lahore, a city steeped in history, has witnessed the ebb and flow of empires, religions, and cultures. Before the partition of 1947, it was a vibrant mosaic of Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs, living side by side. Among the many forgotten relics of this era are the Shamshanghats—Hindu cremation grounds—once scattered across the city. With the exodus of Hindus during partition, these sacred sites were gradually abandoned, and over time, they faded from both memory and the landscape.

One of these forgotten Shamshanghats was situated outside the Taxali Gate, west of Lahore. Historian Kanhaiya Lal, in his *Tareekh-e-Lahore*, described this site as a prominent cremation ground for the Hindu community. Originally, the Shamshanghat lacked an enclosure, but during British rule, a large boundary wall was constructed, with the eastern gate serving as the main entry point. A Peepal tree stood by the entrance, where the deceased were placed before being moved to the cremation area. 

The space was simple but functional, featuring an arched corridor built by Rai Mehla Ram for the guards. There was also a small pond constructed for ritual baths after cremations. This Shamshanghat, like many others, disappeared with time as urbanization encroached upon its grounds. By the time the old Ravi River, which once flowed near the Taxali Gate, changed course, the Shamshanghat was lost entirely. During an excavation near Lady Wellington Hospital, remnants of its walls were uncovered, revealing traces of the British-era Lahori bricks and the tall wall of the pond. I was fortunate to capture photographs of this long-forgotten site.

The Three Forgotten Shamshanghats of Lahore

Lahore, a city steeped in history, has witnessed the ebb and flow of empires, religions, and cultures. Before the partition of 1947, it was a vibrant mosaic of Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs, living side by side. Among the many forgotten relics of this era are the Shamshanghats—Hindu cremation grounds—once scattered across the city. With the exodus of Hindus during partition, these sacred sites were gradually abandoned, and over time, they faded from both memory and the landscape.

The Lost Shamshanghat of Taxali Gate

One of these forgotten Shamshanghats was situated outside the Taxali Gate, west of Lahore. Historian Kanhaiya Lal, in his *Tareekh-e-Lahore*, described this site as a prominent cremation ground for the Hindu community. Originally, the Shamshanghat lacked an enclosure, but during British rule, a large boundary wall was constructed, with the eastern gate serving as the main entry point. A Peepal tree stood by the entrance, where the deceased were placed before being moved to the cremation area. 

The space was simple but functional, featuring an arched corridor built by Rai Mehla Ram for the guards. There was also a small pond constructed for ritual baths after cremations. This Shamshanghat, like many others, disappeared with time as urbanization encroached upon its grounds. By the time the old Ravi River, which once flowed near the Taxali Gate, changed course, the Shamshanghat was lost entirely. During an excavation near Lady Wellington Hospital, remnants of its walls were uncovered, revealing traces of the British-era Lahori bricks and the tall wall of the pond. I was fortunate to capture photographs of this long-forgotten site.

Gopal Nagar: A Shadow of the Past

Gopal Nagar, located near the Children's Hospital and Gulab Devi, still retains its pre-partition Hindu name, though few know its history. Once a Hindu-majority locality, it was home to a lesser-known Shamshanghat. After 1947, the site was sold, and houses were built over it. My friend, a resident of this area, shared eerie stories of paranormal experiences linked to the Shamshanghat that once stood beneath her home. The stories passed down by the elderly still echo, even as the physical evidence of the cremation ground fades.

The Eerie Fields of Bhasin

Bhasin, a village east of Batapur, holds a different kind of memory. Known for the Battle of Bhasin in 1800, the village also had a large Sikh population before partition. Havelis and Samadis (Sikh memorials) from that era still dot the landscape. Just a few kilometers from the Indo-Pakistan border lies a forgotten Shamshanghat, where Hindu cremations were once performed. The atmosphere around this site is unsettling. Locals avoid it, even during daylight, due to its association with paranormal events. When I visited, the earth still bore traces of the past, scattered with the ashes of those who were once cremated here, giving the place an empty yet haunted feeling.

Though the Shamshanghats of Lahore have disappeared from the city’s bustling landscape, their presence lingers in the shadows, in the stories of those who remember, and in the rare fragments that reappear from the past. These forgotten sites are more than just cremation grounds; they are silent witnesses to Lahore’s complex, layered history, where the boundaries between the living and the dead, the past and the present, remain hauntingly blurred.

Witnessing the Majestic Migration of Demoiselle Cranes Over the River Ravi

( All pictures are taken by me, kindly respect copyrights) 

15th September 2024

On the 15th of September, 2024, I experienced an unforgettable moment by the River Ravi near Lahore—a flock of 28 Demoiselle Cranes flying overhead, their calls echoing as they headed south. It was a captivating sight, part of their incredible migration.

At 5 p.m., while standing near the Shahdara Reserved Forest, the peaceful ambiance was interrupted by a series of loud, distinct calls. Glancing upward, I spotted a group of cranes flying low over the river. Initially, I wondered if they were searching for a place to land, but their movements suggested otherwise. Half of the flock veered westward, toward the historic British railway bridge that stretches across the Ravi. It seemed like a change in direction, but soon became clear they were simply waiting for the rest of their group to catch up. Moments later, thirteen more cranes joined them from behind, prompting the scattered flock to regroup. With their formation restored, they gracefully ascended and followed the river's trail, heading towards Saifan before vanishing beyond the horizon, crossing into Indian territory. I could only hope they reached their destination safely, a journey that would take them all the way to Rajasthan.

The Demoiselle Crane, known for its graceful appearance, is the smallest of all crane species. The name "Demoiselle," meaning maiden in French, was given by Queen Marie Antoinette, reflecting its elegance. These cranes travel each year from Siberia and Central Asia to warmer regions like Rajasthan and Sindh, passing through Pakistan along routes like Zhob, Dera, Bannu, and Kurram.

Flying in flocks of up to 400, they soar at altitudes of 16,000 to 26,000 feet, their calls often announcing their arrival. Their migration south begins in September, with Pakistan lying directly in their path as they head to their wintering grounds in Rajasthan and parts of Pakistan.

This brief encounter at the River Ravi reminded me of the cranes' incredible endurance, a journey that reflects the beauty and rhythm of nature.

1. Cranes Crossing over my head at low height

Flying towards British Railway Bridge

Half of the flock flew towards British Railway Bridge

Flying towards the British Era Railway Bridge over Ravi

Regrouping of Both the flocks and now gaining height

Change the direction towards the East follow the river trail and enter Indian Territory

Cropped Shot

Another cropped shot

Another cropped shot

Another Cropped shot

Gaining height

Entering the Indian Territory 

15 ستمبر 2024 کو، میں نے دریائے راوی کے کنارے لاہور کے قریب ایک ناقابل فراموش لمحہ دیکھا—28 ڈیموزیل کرینز کا ایک غول میرے سر کے اوپر سے پرواز کر رہا تھا، ان کی آوازیں فضا میں گونج رہی تھیں جب وہ جنوب کی طرف جا رہے تھے۔ یہ ایک دلکش منظر تھا، ان کی شاندار ہجرت کا ایک حصہ۔

شام 5 بجے، جب میں شاہدرہ کے محفوظ جنگل کے قریب کھڑا تھا، تو پُرسکون ماحول بلند اور واضح آوازوں کی ایک سیریز سے ٹوٹ گیا۔ اوپر نظر ڈالنے پر، میں نے دیکھا کہ کرینز کا ایک غول دریا کے اوپر نیچی پرواز کر رہا تھا۔ شروع میں، میں نے سوچا کہ شاید وہ اترنے کے لیے کوئی جگہ تلاش کر رہے ہیں، لیکن ان کی حرکتیں کچھ اور ظاہر کر رہی تھیں۔ غول کا آدھا حصہ مغرب کی طرف، دریائے راوی پر پھیلے تاریخی برطانوی ریلوے پل کی طرف مڑ گیا۔ ایسا لگا جیسے وہ راستہ بدل رہے ہیں، لیکن جلد ہی واضح ہو گیا کہ وہ اپنے گروپ کے باقی حصے کا انتظار کر رہے تھے۔ کچھ لمحوں بعد، مزید تیرہ کرینز پیچھے سے آ ملے، جس سے غول نے دوبارہ اکٹھا ہو کر اپنی ترتیب بحال کر لی۔ وہ خوبصورتی سے اوپر اٹھے اور دریائے کے راستے کی پیروی کرتے ہوئے سفر جاری رکھا، سیفان کی طرف بڑھتے ہوئے اور بالآخر ہندوستانی سرحد میں داخل ہو گئے۔ میں صرف امید کر سکتا ہوں کہ وہ اپنی طویل مسافت، جو انہیں راجستھان تک لے جائے گی، کامیابی سے مکمل کر لیں گے۔

ڈیموزیل کرین اپنی نازک اور خوبصورت شکل کے لیے جانی جاتی ہے اور یہ کرین کی تمام اقسام میں سب سے چھوٹی ہے۔ "ڈیموزیل" نام، جو فرانسیسی زبان میں نوجوان لڑکی کے معنی میں ہے، ملکہ ماری انٹونیٹ نے اس پر رکھا، جو اس پرندے کی خوبصورتی کی عکاسی کرتا ہے۔ یہ کرینز ہر سال سائبیریا اور وسطی ایشیا سے راجستھان اور سندھ جیسے گرم علاقوں کا سفر کرتی ہیں، پاکستان سے ہوتے ہوئے، خاص طور پر ژوب، ڈیرہ، بنوں، اور کرم کے راستوں سے گزرتی ہیں۔

یہ پرندے 400 تک کے غول میں پرواز کرتے ہیں اور 16,000 سے 26,000 فٹ کی بلندی تک پہنچتے ہیں، اور ان کی آوازیں اکثر ان کی آمد کا اعلان کرتی ہیں۔ ان کی جنوبی ہجرت ستمبر میں شروع ہوتی ہے، اور پاکستان ان کے راستے میں ہے، جہاں سے گزرتے ہوئے انہیں راجستھان اور پاکستان کے کچھ حصوں میں اپنے سردیوں کے مسکن کی طرف بڑھتے دیکھا جا سکتا ہے۔

دریائے راوی کے کنارے یہ مختصر ملاقات مجھے ان پرندوں کی حیرت انگیز طاقت اور ہمت کی یاد دلاتی ہے، ان کا سفر صرف بقا کا نہیں بلکہ فطرت کی خوبصورتی اور ترتیب کا ایک حیرت انگیز مظہر ہے۔

Observing Mixed-Species Flocks in Shogran during the Summer

( All pictures are taken by me, kindly respect copyrights) 

27th July 2024

In my 12 years of birdwatching and wildlife photography, I believed I had seen most of what the wild had to offer. Yet, a visit to Shogran Hill Station during the vibrant summer monsoon proved me wrong. On this three-day trip, I witnessed something extraordinary—a mixed-species flock of birds foraging together at Siri Paye. At 2600 meters, the pine forests served as the stage for one of my most fascinating birdwatching experiences. Despite the season, this flock exhibited winter-like behaviors, offering an unexpected and enthralling glimpse into their world.

Shogran Hill Station, with its lush greenery and fresh mountain air during the monsoon, is a paradise for bird enthusiasts. The forests, alive with new growth and the songs of birds thriving in the season’s bounty, set the stage for my latest adventure. Unlike the harshness of winter, summer in Shogran is a time of abundance, with food more plentiful and birds at their most active. It was in this vibrant environment that I encountered the mixed-species flock—a sight usually associated with colder months, yet just as mesmerizing in the warmth of summer. As I observed the birds, I developed a theory as to why they flocked together: near a small pond in Siri, I noticed a group of more than six Eurasian Hobbies. The mixed flock might have banded together as a protective measure against these predators.

As I trekked through the forest, the sound of fluttering wings and soft chirps caught my attention. There, moving gracefully from tree to tree, was a mixed-species flock—a fascinating blend of birds, each contributing to the collective symphony. Here’s a list of the birds I observed in the flock:

• Coal Tit (4 to 5 individuals)
• White-Throated Tit (1 to 3 individuals)
• White-Cheeked Nuthatch (1 individual, the largest bird in the flock)
• Green Shrike Babbler (1 individual)
• Lemon-Rumped Warbler (1 to 4 individuals)
• Hume's Warbler (1 individual)
• Hudson's Treecreeper (1 individual)
• Speculated Finch (1 individual)
• Green Tit (2 to 4 individuals)
• Himalayan Bluetail (1 individual)

Leading the charge were the energetic Coal Tits, always the first to land on a branch. With four or five of them scouting ahead, they guided the flock to promising foraging spots. Close behind, the White-Cheeked Nuthatch—the largest bird in the group—asserted its presence with sleek, agile movements on the tree trunks, serving as both sentinel and forager. Among the smaller members were White-Throated Tits, Lemon-Rumped Warblers, and Green Tits, each playing its role—some scoured the bark for insects, while others picked at the pine needles. The solitary Green Shrike Babbler and Hudson’s Treecreeper added a touch of uniqueness, their distinct calls blending seamlessly with the others. The Himalayan Bluetail, with its vibrant colors, provided a striking contrast against the green forest, adding grace and beauty to the flock’s movements.

White-Cheeked Nuthatch

What struck me most was the orchestrated movement of the flock. The Coal Tits and Nuthatch were not just foraging; they were leading. As they darted to a new tree, the rest of the flock followed, almost in unison, as if connected by an invisible thread. It was clear that these birds weren’t randomly grouped together; there was a strategy designed to maximize their chances of survival. Mixed-species flocking is a survival strategy. Even in spring, birds must stay alert for predators. The flock relies heavily on its sentinel species—the ones who lead and alert the others to danger. In this case, the Coal Tits and Nuthatch took on that role, their keen eyes and quick reflexes keeping the group safe. If a predator, like a hawk or owl, approached, these leaders would sound the alarm, and the entire flock would freeze—a well-rehearsed act of self-preservation.

Coal Tit

Over two days, I encountered this flock at least six times, each sighting more thrilling than the last. Photographing them was both a challenge and a joy. The interplay of light filtering through the pine trees, the movement of the birds, and the snow-capped peaks in the background created a visual feast for my lens. In the quiet moments between the flurry of activity, I reflected on the sheer beauty and complexity of what I was witnessing. This was more than just a group of birds; it was a testament to nature’s resilience and ingenuity. The flock’s ability to work together, to protect and provide for each other, was a powerful reminder of the interconnectedness of life in the wild.

Green Tit 

As I left Shogran Hill Station, my heart was full, and my mind was buzzing with thoughts of this incredible experience. In all my years of birdwatching, this was the first time I truly grasped the significance of mixed-species flocking. It’s a phenomenon that speaks to the adaptability and intelligence of birds and one I’ll never forget.

Lemon-Rumped Warbler

Himalayan Bluetail

Green Shrike Babbler

Hume's Warbler

White-Throated Tit

Hudson's Treecreeper

Speculated Finch 

𝗚𝘂𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀: 𝗘𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗺𝗶𝗿 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗿 𝗔𝗺𝗶𝗱𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗣𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗣𝗮𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻

( All pictures are taken by me, kindly respect copyrights) 

27th July 2024

The Kashmir Gray Langur (Semnopithecus ajax), an endangered and elusive primate, inhabits the remote and rugged landscapes of Pakistan's northern regions. Recently, I had the remarkable opportunity to encounter these mysterious creatures firsthand, deep in the heart of the Shogran Kagan Valley. What began as a simple trek through the alpine jungles quickly transformed into an unforgettable adventure, unveiling the hidden world of these majestic langurs.

As we ascended to an altitude of over 2,600 meters at Siri Paye, the dense forest enveloped us in an otherworldly silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. At first, I suspected the sound of snapping branches to be the work of illegal loggers—a sadly common occurrence in these parts. But then, through the mist and rain, a troop of Kashmir Gray Langurs emerged, their silvery-gray coats shimmering in the damp air. It was a moment of pure awe, watching these large, graceful monkeys descend from the towering trees of Makra Peak.

On that first day, we observed them from a distance of about a kilometer, their agile forms moving effortlessly along the ridge. The following day, our paths crossed again, this time with the langurs just 300 meters away. A wildlife expert later informed us that this particular clan comprised at least 45 members, who reside in this area for most of the year. Their presence here was a testament to the rich biodiversity of the Shogran Kagan Valley, a habitat that provides them with the shelter and sustenance they need to thrive.

The locals shared a fascinating tale with us, one that seemed to hold a kernel of truth. According to them, the langurs descend from the high ridges when rain is imminent. Indeed, on the third day of our trek, heavy rains began to pour over Kagan Valley, causing floods that even swept away the Mahandari Bridge. The langurs, it seemed, had sensed the impending storm, moving to safer ground in anticipation.

This encounter was not just a chance to observe the langurs in their natural habitat; it was also a reminder of the delicate balance these creatures maintain with their environment.

The Kashmir Gray Langur (Semnopithecus ajax) is an endangered primate species found in Pakistan, particularly in Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KPK). The Kashmir Gray Langur is a species that relies heavily on the dense forests and diverse ecosystems of Pakistan’s Himalayan foothills. Found primarily in regions like the Lachrat Forest Range in Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) and some parts of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KPK), these langurs face significant threats from habitat loss, deforestation, and human encroachment. Despite being protected under various wildlife laws, their fragmented populations remain vulnerable due to weak enforcement and limited conservation resources. Ecologically important for seed dispersal and controlling plant growth, these langurs exhibit complex social structures and adapt their behavior to seasonal changes. However, their survival is jeopardized by human-wildlife conflict, poaching, and the ongoing degradation of their habitats. Urgent conservation efforts are needed to ensure the continued existence of this species in Pakistan.