The Giant Squirrels of Idukki
I've spent so many days running after this animal...
Hey friends,
Greetings from somewhere in the Himalayas!
I’m currently trekking through the Himachali mountains. So, for this week, I’m posting one of my older stories from the other side of the country—the cardamom plantations of Kerala.
Munnar is known as the land of tea estates. But higher up the Idukki district lie acres of cardamom plantations. The farms are right up against the lush rainforests of the Western Ghats, with the odd village sprinkled here and there. This forms a unique mix of jungle, farmland and human habitation.
I first visited this landscape as a child, back in early 2010. But even then, I remember the mist curling up from the tree tops as the sun climbed higher into the sky. And from these tree tops hung several bushy tails, drooping down like ripe fruit ready to drop. They were the tails of the ubiquitous Malabar Giant Squirrel.
The Malabar giant Squirrel (Ratufa indica maxima) is a large arboreal rodent endemic to India’s forests. They are a subspecies of the Indian Giant Squirrel, which is found across the country. This variety is darker and a tad bit bigger. They can be seen either hanging down from the canopy, flat against the tree trunk, or scuttling about the branches, their tails bobbing as they do so.
In Idukki, this animal seems to thrive in this shared human-wildlife landscape, navigating the plantations as quickly as their rainforest homes.
Many people think of this animal to be purely solitary in nature. But I’ve seen groups of up to 5 squirrels all foraging together. Apart from the odd squabble, they seem perfectly tolerant, sometimes even cordial with each other.
But when they do fight, it is an adrenaline-pumping experience. They scamper through the canopy with frightening speed, with the chaser biting curiously at the runner’s tail. It is a few seconds of tense, squirrely anticipation. When they reach the edge of the branch, the fleeing squirrel will propel itself into the air, soaring for several meters before finally grabbing hold of the next tree. It is breathtaking to watch.
I’ve been visiting this landscape for several years, following this squirrel through the trees. And out of all the encounters, one in particular stands out to me.
I was up at 5 for my usual survey, waking to the warbling calls of the Malabar whistling thrush. The sun broke crimson over the forested hillside, but it was soon eclipsed by moderate cloud cover. The forest awoke to this glorious morning, with birdsong bursting out of every bush.
I spotted the first squirrel calmly browsing, utterly concerned as I ogled at it from a hundred feet below. Since it wasn’t doing much, I settled onto a large rock from where I could comfortably observe the animal.
But as I got comfortable, I realised that there was another squirrel perched a couple of branches above. This one was larger, and it also was browsing. Excited, I pulled out my camera and waited in case some action transpired.
Looking through the viewfinder, I realised my angle would not yield a good shot. So I sprinted up a nearby hill to get in the line of sight of these rodents. Luckily, nothing had happened in the 10 minutes it took me to get into position.
Then, prompted by some basal instinct, the squirrel slowly climbed up to its partner. The movements were calculated, almost as if it were in slow motion. My camera hurt as I held it in place, but I didn’t ever. I just knew something special was going on.
The squirrels came within centimetres of each other. For a brief second, I thought a fight would break out. My finger hovered over the shutter as I anticipated the action.
But that didn’t happen. Instead, the larger squirrel lifted its paw, almost as if to stroke the other squirrel’s face. It lay there suspended for a few tender seconds. Were they siblings? Were they lovers? Or were they just friends? I wondered as I froze that moment in my camera.
There was something so human about the scene, so emotional. It remains with me to this day as my favourite encounter with these enigmatic rodents.
In a world where tigers and elephants get all the attention, I find it imperative to showcase these “Lesser” animals. They are equally fascinating. I hope that, by giving them the spotlight, they will receive the same admiration.
How do these “plantation squirrels” compare to their forest brethren? Do they prefer these landscapes to undisturbed forests? How do their populations vary? These are some of the many questions I wonder about as I explore this landscape. I hope my subsequent adventures will unearth some of the answers.
Postcard
I was in Wayanad a month ago, and I found this gorgeous Malabar Vine Snake draped along a plant. I hope this shot captures its beauty and the way it blends in with the foliage.
When I’m at university, I don’t see many snakes, and that does take a small toll on me. So I was ecstatic to find this elegant snake, and I spent some time gushing over it, standing in the puttering rain. This species is definitely one of my favourites.
Favourite Quote
“I’m writing a first draft and reminding myself that I’m simply shovelling sand into a box so that later I can build castles.” – Shannon Hale
Have a creative, wild and inspiring week!
If you’re new, welcome to The Owlet! My name is Ishan Shanavas, and I am an Artist, Photographer, Writer and Student of the Natural World.
Here I talk about my work, along with curating the most interesting ideas on the internet. I confine them to topics like Nature, Culture, Photography, and Art but often fall prey to other genres.
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