Chasing Argus*

"What's that call?" I asked as we reached the field center. "Cicadas" was the usual answer. The forest was full of different sounds. The wooo woo woo wo wo wo wo wo of a gibbon, the myriad calls of cicadas, the occasional call of an elusive hornbill, red leaf-monkeys -- the list was endless. the calls, always a pleasure to hear.

Come morning, the answer was different. "Argus," Divya said. "aah," i feigned with a knowledgeable sage nod. We were out trekking, climbing an impossibly high canopy platform and trekking some more. That sound was loud and close by. Argus. i told myself. Mental note: got to go and check up what it is -- discreetly --  sometime.

Borneo Field Guide to the rescue and it was all clear that evening. Argus. wow.

the next morning, after breakfast, i could not wait to get out on the West Trail. those trails were enchanting -- like lost fairy lands with treasures everywhere. Mike, a researcher, was to lead us. It was all very mysterious. "Shhhh..." he kept saying and we plodded along in silence -- that is as silent as our raucous group could manage to be. Someone or the other always ended up flouting rules and either guffawing or yelling out to another and drawing frowns from our fearless leaders.  Soon the rain of the previous night made the going slippery and concentration stole our tongues.

Slick leaf litter over thick clay soil. Planks over streams covered in moss. Recipes for a nice slip-sliding moment, should your sandals have less than stellar treads. Mike hurried along on the "coffin trail" and kept beckoning us to follow apace. That sound again... Argus. It was somewhere in the forest ahead. We were headed there i realized s-l-o-w-l-y. We were tracking Argus!

suddenly, just as we crested a hump in the trail, mike hunched like someone telling you a secret does. A finger to his lips, he asked the "photographers" to go ahead. Ummm... that is 9/10 of us! we inched forward... in the clearing right up ahead, was Argus. Resplendent Argus. Standing 4 feet tall, blue-headed, spiky haired Argus. him of lovely ocelli and frilly tail feathers. Calling out for his mate. Lekking ground prepped and feathers preened. Dance routine in mind (where apparently he flares his lovely feathers full of eyespots and hides his own eyes behind them, looking out at her).

Great Argus Pheasant (Argusianus argus)**, May 2010, Borneo

And then we had arrived and preempted his performance. Swishing this way and that, unsure whether to leave or stay, he gave us 30 seconds and then strutted off. Argus. wow.

Six of us had seen him, four had been a little too far behind. They stayed back in the hope Argus would return (he did not) and we took off following another mating call. "We go 500 yards, then make right turn. then climb to see another lekking ground." Mike in his thick East Timori accent. You bet, let's chase.

Life... everywhere. A new shoot on a climber.

Aah this chase was everything a wet, thick, primary rainforest should offer. The enormity, the minuteness, the life at every level in between. the climbers, the lianas, the mosses and ferns, the ivy (ficus, no less!), the molts, the slush and the lush... and my favorites, the fungi!

A white rimmed black fungus on the forest floor. 

And we trampled slip-sliding away with as much dignity as we could salvage, following THE CALL. climb, climb, climb, step over HUGE fallen log, cross creaky wooden mossy plank? ditch the plank, wade through the stream. climb, climb, climb...

There he was displaying on a log! wait...! But Argus had a mind of his own. And eyes for only her (they are monogamous birds.) he turned on his heels and was gone.

Argus 1, Argus2, what a lovely day. Want to apologize.... and thank you!
(and a big thank you to Mike too for the botany, the wonderful tracking and the infectious enthusiasm.)

*Argus is a hundred-eyed giant in Greek mythology. Named thus by Linnaeus in reference to the eyes-like pattern on its wings (Wikipedia).
** The pheasant is listed as NT (near threatened) acc to IUCN, and on Appendix II of CITES)

Here's looking at you, kid!

Water monitor up on a tree overhanging the river. we were in a boat right under it. and it looked at us.

la lechuza magnifica -- Buffy fish owl. night cruise, Sukau, Borneo. We had one more of these magnificent creatures in our Danum Valley research center. beautiful creature...

A beautiful Oriental Pied Hornbill -- the casque that looks so unwieldy, is actually hollow. Sukau, Borneo

A pig-tailed macaque with liquid-hazel eyes was getting a lice check upside down ;-) and was grunting away. Sukau, Borneo.

Soulful eyes on the old man of the forest -- orangutan which gorged on dillenias near our lodge. Danum Valley, Borneo.

A water monitor slides gracefully over a log and in to water testing the temp with its blue-pink tongue. Sukau, Borneo.

A scarlet-chested trogon with blue eyelids! Spotted on the way out of Danum Valley.

Nesting Whiskered Tree Swift, en route to BRL, Danum Valley, Borneo.

like no other feeling

The lovely Koompassia Excelsa, catching the first rays of light on May 20, 2010.

dhuaan dhuaan tha woh samaan

yahaan wahaan jaane kahan

tuu aur main kahin mile the pehele

dekha tujhe toh dil ne kaha
....

tera mujhse hai pehele ka naata koi

yuun hi nahin dil lubhaata koi
....
dekho abhi khona nahin
kabhi judaa hona nahin
abke yuun hi mile rahenge donon
waada raha yeh iss shyaam ka

i think i drove my room mate and people two rooms down nuts by singing this over and over. but it was an overpowering, consuming feeling, whenever i saw these wonderful sentinels of time.

Thud!

[Bornean orangutan in Sepilok Orang Reserve]

When this little fellow peeked over the nest he had just made out of leafy branches, my heart lurched knowing what was at stake.

Home to the only great ape of Asia, the orangutan, the Bornean rainforests are a biodiversity hotspot. The oldest rainforest in the world (older than the Amazon) is home also to one of the rarest cats in the world -- the Bornean clouded leopard. 3000 species of trees, 15,000 species of plants, over 200 species of birds, some 600,000 species of fungi, countless ferns, mosses, ants... the list goes on...

And I landed with a THUD, from where i was afloat on a high, when we drove out of beautiful Danum Valley. For all is not well. This dream of mist-pools in forests and skyward trees, apes, cats and myriad creatures -- not to speak of the lives and livelihood of indigenous people -- is in grave danger.

[Aerial shot of clearing for palm plantations. the neat rows in the foreground are all palm]

Miles and miles and miles of nothing but palm oil plantations. Yes, i had read about it. Yes, i had seen photos. Yes, i knew the threat. But still -- the stark contrast of the magic of the rainforest with the grim reality of the onslaught of monoculture, put a lump in my throat that would not go away.

The insatiable appetite for palm oil has encroached heavily in to rainforests, denuding the land and clear-felling ever more rich forests in favor of palms. Indonesia and Malaysia together account for 80% of the world's palm oil production. And the demand is only increasing. At the current accelerated rate, UNEP estimates severe degradation of the rainforests in Borneo in the next few years.

“In the end we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.”  Baba Dioum, Senegalese Poet/ Environmentalist.

Misty-eyed and wistful about mist-pools.

One early morning in Borneo... old forest in mist-pools. that was one magical morning.

It was easy waking up at 4:15AM. The last day in Danum Valley and I did not want to miss a thing. A quick shower (my many showers were a source of constant amusement in the group) and we were all out by the 4WDs. Observation tower, we were told. OK. we had no idea what it was going to be. The forests around us were swathed in mist and we climbed our way up a mountain just as the sky was beginning to get an indigo-purple hue that announced pre-dawn. I ran up the stairs to the observation deck and gaped at the scene before me. Mist pools galore, the odd tree clumps peeking out as the mist ebbed and flowed around the forest. Constantly shifting. No two seconds held the same scene. Triggers and tripods everywhere, picking my way between them I took it all in through lens and lungs.

And then came the idea to climb the impossibly tall climate observation tower to our right... imagine a cell phone tower, double it in height. A sheer vertical ladder went up some 50m (150 ft). nothing on either side, rungs some half a meter apart. one slip and you were history. Looking straight up the ladder my heart sank. "Divya, you go first." She did and all i needed was her "you must come up here," and i was up the 50m in a trice. If the scene from the first observation deck took my breath away, the sight from up here (we were waaaay higher than the first deck now) had me breathing out very s-l-o-w-l-y. and grinning like a cheshire cat.

No trees, no poles, no stumps, nothing in the way. we were above it all. and below us the drama of the newborn day was unfolding. The emergent layer was just catching the first rays of the sun. Bare, long white barks and bright red dipterocarp seeds were just revealing themselves in pristine glory. the mist was catching the pink of the nascent rays and lifting, shifting. and i thank divya a million times a day, even now.

i held that moment, that scene, that freshness in my mind. it was not to be trifled with. this was life. pura vida.

la pura vida

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.
~ Lao Tzu

And so it was in the week in Borneo. there was no "destination" to reach-- the journey was it everyday. and what a journey it was. i felt every second. aware. awake. wide-eyed, open-armed (and open-mouthed too!). in the now. it was an intensely personal experience that touched me deeply and has left me replete.