The Morning We Almost Missed

Some trips begin with careful planning. Others begin with a flat tyre.

Four of us had set our sights on a birding hotspot outside Bangalore, the kind of place that promises lifers. But birding, like birds themselves, has a way of ignoring plans. By the time dawn stretched across the sky, two of the gang were grounded thanks to an untimely puncture. CA, already on the way to my place, became my co conspirator in what was quickly turning into a Plan B kind of morning.

With time slipping and options shrinking, we did what birders often do best. We improvised. The nearest familiar name on the map was Doddanekundi Lake. Not quite the grand expedition we had imagined, but not a bad fallback either. For me, it was a revisit. For CA, a first look at what this urban wetland had to offer.

Expectations were modest. Plan B trips rarely promise magic. But sometimes, they quietly deliver enough to save the day.

What followed was not a blockbuster outing, but one of those gentle, steady mornings where the lake slowly reveals itself. A few rewarding sightings, some soft light, familiar calls, and just enough surprises.

Here are a few frames from a morning that refused to be wasted.

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That soft, in between hour when the lake hasn’t quite decided if it belongs to the night or the day.

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Lines, reflections, and a soft wash of morning colour.

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An Indian Pond Heron, perfectly blending into the pastel light. While I was busy with lines and reflections, it was busy with breakfast.

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While we waited for the sunrise, he was already well into his morning shift. One by one, the fish came free.

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A quick glance, almost weighing the morning in his hand, and then into the basket it went.

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The sun finally made its move.

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A few minutes later, it climbed higher.

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The moon lingered, not quite ready to hand the sky over.

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And then, without warning, a White throated Kingfisher tore through the calm in a flash of blue.

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The Kingfisher settled on a thorny perch.

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They call it the Bengal Clock Vine, its stem turning slowly as it climbs, like a quiet hand tracing time, searching for something to hold.

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The lake held the light, as if it did not want to let go of the morning.

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The path filled with footsteps as the day quietly found its rhythm.

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And in the shallows, a Wood Sandpiper went about its quiet business.

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Nearby, a pair of Black winged Stilts moved in sync, their reflections keeping perfect time.

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On the rocks, a pair of White browed Wagtails paused, watching the morning unfold at their own pace.

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Breakfast, finally, and the Wood Sandpiper made it count.

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The Little Egret stirred the water with a gentle shuffle, flushing out the unsuspecting, and then struck with precision.

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The reward, mid gulp, gone in a heartbeat.

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Not all colour came from wings, some of it just hung quietly in the morning light.

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Measured steps, a careful pause, and the Black winged Stilt read the water before making its move.

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A line of Barn Swallows at rest, with a lone Wire tailed Swallow among them, all taking a quiet pause before the next flight.

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A small group of Black headed Ibises worked the shallows, each in its own rhythm, yet somehow in sync.

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Not all the locals kept to the water, some preferred higher ground and a better view.

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Up in the trees, an Indian Golden Oriole paused just long enough to show off its catch.

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And then it held still, as if it knew it had already stolen the show.

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Cutting across the lake, a Painted Stork stitched the morning together in black and white.

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On the rocks, an Oriental Darter (Snake bird) paused mid preen, its long neck tracing a quiet curve in the light.

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On the bund, a few Spot billed Pelicans went about their morning routines, each lost in its own quiet ritual.

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A Grey Heron picked its way across the rocks, slow, deliberate, and always watching.

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A Green Sandpiper stood on one leg, as if nursing a quiet heartbreak beside a fallen rose.

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No time for heartbreak though, it was already back to business.

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With a lifted step and a steady gaze, a Red wattled Lapwing walked the shoreline like it owned the place.

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And just like that, the trail came full circle, back to the little temple where the morning had begun.

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Plan A may have slipped away, but the lake had its own story to tell, and we were there just in time to listen.

Hope you enjoyed the walk. Do leave a comment.