ML644981072

Observation details

A Lifer in the Floodplains: The Pallid Scops Owl at Paragwal Wetland Yesterday, as is customary on weekends, I sent out the usual birding call to friends for a Sunday birdwatching. While many of the friends were tied up with prior commitments, Vikram and I decided to head towards Paragwal wetland which is a serene floodplain shaped by the mighty Chenab River. Yes ,The same Chenab, steeped in romance and folklore, especially the tale of Sohni Mahiwal, seemed to whisper another kind of love story that morning and now of one of avian wonder. Despite a detour caused by the BSF Marathon in the early morning as they had closed one side of the road, we reached the wetland just after sunrise. The early start had left me drowsy, so I asked Vikram to scout ahead and explore the area and I took a brief nap under the soft light of a winter morning. Moments later, my phone buzzed. Vikram’s voice rang with excitement: “Short-eared owl dekhna hai?” I perked up instantly. “Where?” I asked. “Three individuals, perched on a tree,” he replied. That made me pause as Short-eared Owls rarely perch in trees. “Could they be Long-eared Owls?” I wondered aloud.And replied to Vikram , most probably they are Long eared Owls. I joined Vikram quickly, and we managed to capture some decent photographs.Yes , they were Long eared Owls, but picture abhi baaki hai mere dost. Then, deep within a thicket of acacia, I spotted a smaller owl with pale plumage and subtle ear tufts. Something stirred within me. I urged Vikram to shift focus: “This one feels different. My inner call was that it's a Pallid Scops Owl” Later, our hunch was confirmed by fellow birders. It was indeed the elusive Pallid Scops Owl, a lifer for all of us! With this sighting, my Jammu & Kashmir bird count nudged up to 515 species. We immediately called our birding circle. And just like that, within minutes, we were all together again, united by the thrill of discovery. The owl remained perched, calm and cryptic, allowing us generous views. “The poetry of earth is never dead,” wrote Keats, and this morning, it echoed through the rustling leaves and silent gaze of the owl.