I think it first happened three years back…
I started to prefer calm, soothing, dimly lit places (mostly indoors) with a few close friends for company over loud, brightly shining ones crowded to the hilt with strangers.
Some might say its an age thing, I’d say its sign of good thing to come.
Two pandemic ravaged years later, this preference had only got set in stone. It was during one such homely huddle that folks at Jungle Ken first pitched the idea of a trip to Amboli village! Nestled in the lap of the Western Ghats, Amboli is known for being the place with the second highest rainfall in India. Situated at an elevation of about 700m, it also doubles up as a touristy spot that visitors from adjoining towns frequent to see the cave temples and almost perennial waterfalls here. Let me do a bit of show and tell now.
But as the fog engulfs the setting sun, almost instantly, a lazy lull descends upon the surroundings. One might argue, this is not something to experience alone.
But that is the thing — we are anything but alone at that moment. Nightfall is the time Amboli comes to life.
Quite literally.
As the number of vehicles on the only road passing through the village comes down to trickle, the sounds of silence set in. The cicadas are the first to make their presence felt. Pitch dark. Kirrr. Kirrr. Kirrr. A setting straight out of a Hollywood thriller. It is about this time, as the twilight dispersed by the omnipresent fog brings out an eerie red hue all around, that small groups of 5–10 folks, draped in knee length ponchos, wearing leech socks, gumboots and armed with macro lenses, flashlights and UV lights start showing up.
We were part of one such group. Having been given a safety briefing just an hour back by our naturalist — Abhishek, a wildlife researcher and adventure enthusiast who has spent most of his childhood and youth roaming in the rain drenched forests of Amboli, we were still struggling to adjust to the darkness as we entered the premises of what was once a children’s park in the middle of nowhere.
Paved paths have been taken over by moss and erstwhile brick skirtings merge with the wet ground covered with leaves. Ariel roots dangle down from the lichen covered branches and leaves dripping the last bit of rain water rustle even as a stillness hangs around in the air. Moisture droplets haze up the beam of light from our flashlights. The limitations of our senses manifest as we strain our ears and eyes that bit more to make sense of what is happening around.
And then the sightings begin.
Insects form the music band of the rain-forests, making noises by rubbing together their legs to attract mates. For a first time listener it may sound chaotic but when it is quite enough for you to hear your own breathe, the harmony in their sounds can’t be missed.
But the frogs of Amboli take the crown when it comes to incandescent sounds. Bringing to the fore a plethora of their calls, they literally bring the floor (and the branches) to life.
Over the course of our multiple trails we also came across frog eggs laid on leaf and tree trunk — transparent balls of jellies with young tadpoles visible inside.
As our eyes continued to adjust to the dark, different snails start becoming more visible, leaving behind a trail of shiny slime, they move along the ground and along branches with a slow ease. Amboli is an undiscovered treasure trove of these slow sliders with new species getting discovered every year. Among the most recent ones are Varadia Amboliensis a new genus named after herpetologist Dr Varad Giri.
On our trails were able to document some from the Ariophanta genus.
Amboli is also home to a special species of crab called the Amboli Blue Crab, a tree dwelling crustacean, this one feels as if it passed through a tank of indelible ink on the way. As with the snails, new species of crabs are being discovered in Amboli regularly. Same goes for geckos — new ones get identified frequently. This just goes to show how much of the biodiversity of this hotspot is yet untapped.
Night trails are a test of patience, endurance and most importantly they push you to go that extra mile to document a good sighting. Exempli gratia — yours truly was made to go low on the road by this not larger than a thumbnail — Bombay Bush Frog to get this picture. Worth every bit of effort.
I could really go on and on about this trip but then this is a birding blog and we haven’t even mentioned birds yet! A morning trip to the same trail got us some decent sightings. The Indian Blackbird sitting atop a pile of rocks demarcating farm boundaries was almost telling us to know our own while documenting wildlife.
And now for the pièce de résistance — kept this for those who have stuck around. Snakes are the true lords of Amboli and we sighted a total of eight species including those who had unfortunately succumbed as road kill in the night.
Presenting — Malabar Pit Viper
And the Green Vine Snake
As with most trips in the wild, night trails are an humbling experience. What they also do is give us a very clear idea of how vulnerable we are when exposed to raw and often merciless face of nature. The realization that we don’t have to worry about day-to-day survival where one is either the prey or the hunter hits home in the dead of the night.
There is lot I could go on with. It’s been that kind of a trip. But I’ll leave you with something to think about for your next trail. As always the folks at Jungle Ken aced this one both in terms of logistics and safety of the group be it midnight or noon. Hat tip to the team of Yogesh, Anup and Kaustabh who have kept pulling off one immersive trip after another for me this year.
Did you enjoy reading this blog? Do leave a clap behind if you came this far and drop a comment if you have any queries or feedback for me.
Gear used: Canon SX540 HS Camera with Raynox DCR-150 snap on macro lens and a hand held LED flashlight.
Lastly, take that holiday if you haven’t yet. You deserve a break more than anyone else.
