East African Birding : The Four Cisticolas of the Apocalypse

There could have been a prediction made hereabouts:  

"When Corncrakes fly with Monarchs in November you're in for the soak of an El Nino Christmas!"

There hasn't. 

Yet in this last third of November - daily, nightly, now: there's rain, rain, RAIN! 

Cloudy skies and generous rain showers bring forth green grasses and grasshoppers. 

In the past week insect populations have gone right through the roof, or rather they've come-in through the window.

I cannot even begin to catalogue all of these new forms.

I keep birding meanwhile. At home, in my strictly-jungle-acre on the hill, both local robin-chat species (Ruppell's and Cape) are in full song - even in mid-afternoon as now; and each adult Spotted Morning Thrush has a juvenile  bouncing behind it. These 'chats' are all engaged in such complex double mimicry that I cannot tell who's cuckoo-calling who and who is not! And down at Kimemo, my local patch - see kimemocoffee.com - the public part of the Mringa coffee and dairy farm (Mringa is that most gracious of our indigenous trees - Cordia africana), we're finding three or four new birds for the site with each morning visit!

Today we, that's bird-dog Pi & bird-man I, bowled into Kimemo (as birders of my generation were wont to do) at 0940hrs and that's very late I'll grant you. 

The resident male Nubian Woodpecker whinny-whickered from an avenue tree. Flamboyant Golden-breasted Buntings and somewhat more dapper Willow Warblers sang quietly from the great arched Cordias which provide shade to the bird-friendly coffee of Mringa Estate. Iridescent Green Wood-Hoopoes, indescribably afrotropical-yellow-squinting White-crested Helmet-shrikes, sumptuous Black-headed Orioles and atypically weaver-ish Red-headed Weavers formed what at first glance appears to be a somewhat unlikely insect-eating bird party that moved swiftly through the gnarled old trees.

First we headed for "the basin". This is where a bunded drainage line collects water in times of flood - thus far it remains only slightly damp. A pale-bodied fuscus Eurasian Reed Warbler with warm cinnamon rump and three acredula Willow Warblers working through the rank vegetation provided some six of the Palearctic's sixty shades of brown to support our first afrotropical brown birds in the shape of a largish cisticola - in this case the rather accurately named and fairly distinctive Winding Cisticola C. galactotes suahelicus. This is a bird that truly loves the rain. The muggy grey air of this morning resounded with their weakly peevish twees and various mechanical splutterings. Both Bronze and Rufous-backed Mannikin were here in large number together with the obligatory big flock of beautiful Crimson-rumped Waxbills. The first of three Steppe Buzzards sauntered past and a 'maltese cross' pale morph Wahlberg's Eagle circled overhead. No sign of anything rarer in the basin so we hurried on - out into the southern alfalfa fields.

A Long-crested Eagle, "floppy crest blowing in the breeze", sat on a post waiting for an unwary mouse or vole. Twelve dusky mauve and grey Red-eyed Doves exploded from a lanky tangle of castor-bean as Pi passed through its basement, her stumpy white tail all aquiver, the heads of three Helmeted Guineafowl poked out of the grasses that seem to be lengthening by the hour, and assessed the level of threat. A 'good migrant' in the form of a dark Honey Buzzard rose from the old grove on the first thermal of the day and drifted away southwards.

Immediately we reached the open land Pi dived head-first into a long grassy meadow on today's mission to catch a root rat, up above ground level, and within a minute she flushed an extremely rufous and rather portly-looking Corncrake who clattered-off in a wide arc, keeping very low, legs a-dangling! Grassland Pipits (Anthus cinnamomeus lacuum) went up in the air all around us; some were carrying food to nests hidden away in the lucerne. 

Now it also might have been said: "in those great markets where african bird evolution is determined that the smart money is definitely on the cisticolas!" Certainly here Winding Cisticolas were all around us; and everywhere for trees were rare; calling loudly to each other tweee-tweee-tweee. About ten Zitting (C. juncidis uropygialis) and at least five Desert Cisticolas (C. aridulus tanganyika) were here; they would have presented a terrible problem for any acoustically-challenged birder had he or she been present. Despite clear plumage differences these two can be tough to separate, especially in flight. A couple of diminutive Pectoral-patch Cisticolas (C. brunnescens hindii) less than 10cm in length put on a marvellous cloud-scraping wing-snapping performance! One came close enough to reveal bright chestnut crown and dark subloral spots. By complete contrast four exquisite long-tailed Black Saw-wings (swallows) laced quickly southwards passing just above the grass heads.

At least three erlangeri Common Quail called repeatedly. The lone male Black-bellied Bustard ceased his "popping" as Pi entered the meadow and flew off with languid downbeats before dropping into a neighbouring plot belonging to TGT (Tanganyika Game Trackers). The eight resident Superb Starlings, a chirruping songster of a Grey-headed Sparrow, four (of about ten here) White-fronted Bee-eaters (one with a deformed beak), the two resident Long-tailed Fiscals and a new bird for Kimemo in the shape of an African Mourning Dove were each 'singing' their specific melodies around the small white pump house at the far end of the field. 

Leaving here we continued past the forty or so brightly clad farm labourers who were hoeing the biggest of two maize fields. Quickly we reached the northern lucerne fields, sadly the weediest and easily "best one" for wildlife was being harvested today; six men followed a green tractor raking-up the grass and tossing it onto a grass pyramid which perched precariously upon the trailer. A dark African Hobby sliced distantly eastward and a large chocolate-coloured female Eurasian Marsh Harrier came ambling overhead putting a temporary hold on any cisticola shenanigans in this field! 

Thirty-odd Barn Swallows, more than I have seen on any one day for at least a week, passed across the grass fields at mid-morning. Strangely there were no Red-rumped Swallows today cf. at least 18 yesterday. Numerous House Martins passed south at a considerable height together with small parties of unidentifiable swifts (probably Nyanza) even farther up in the murk. Two near tail-less African Quail Finches also went over uttering their characteristic creaky squeaking calls. A nostalgic touch of  summer (in addition to the grey weather) came in the form of a male Whinchat singing heartily from the electricity wires - as he was yesterday; and two female/immatures were in the field boundary - as yesterday. A female Red-backed Shrike perched-up on a wire nearby. There were many fewer Globe Skimmer today circling over the farm; yet possibly more Blue Pansy and African Monarch butterflies despite the relative gloom. Small groups of African Monarchs settled on the ploughed fields forming little concentrated bundles of bright orange-rufous against the dank umber soil. In the weedy plough a group of eight Red-capped Larks also present since at least yesterday were joined from the north by a single chirruping Athi Short-toed Lark. A couple of tardy Red-throated Pipits were flushed by Pi but most of the 30 or so present last week must have moved-on south onto the Maasai plateau.

Time was marching-on and I had a human rendezvous to keep. So we turned for home. Passing alongside the last long meadow which is dominated by a single introduced grass species:  Chloris gayana (introduced to South Africa by Cecil Rhodes) we flushed yet more Winding and several Zitting Cisticolas (yet interestingly neither of the other two species) some 50 Crimson-rumped Waxbills went-up and as they milled overhead sibilantly chorusing "chzee-chee-chee" a tinkling group of ca 25 black-tailed grey-brown African Silverbills swung-in to join them when they dropped back into the grass crop. I rarely see this species around Arusha itself although it is quite common 60km away in the Rift Valley just north of Lake Manyara NP. Black-headed Herons stalked the grassy banks; a few Hadeda and many more Sacred Ibis with lots of Cattle Egrets were sitting about on the roofs and in the corrals of the farm.

Then I heard the much loved "pruupp-rruup" of a Eurasian Bee-eater and looked up to see two birds swooping south; were these the last of this 'autumn' season? They do winter here in small numbers at about 1,500m in the Ngorongoro Crater Highlands and at the same elevation on the evergreen forested lower slopes of Kilimanjaro. Not to be outdone two Broad-billed Rollers were displaying nearby - 'laughing', in that gloriously guttural manner, as they looped the loop high above their nesting cavities in some old and wizened grey-ribbed Grevillea. Ecstatic birds these, they seemed as if they were over-joyed, deliriously happy, just to be alive. Alive and circling wildly, shout-it-out on high, high in the sky above the damp green grass of home.

PS: Back at my home (after typing this in the afternoon) I flushed a feral tabby, on my way up the garden to the dunny, who in turn put-up an Epauletted Fruit Bat, a dapple-breasted Sprosser, two Purple Grenadiers, ten Red-billed Firefinches and several Grey-headed Sparrows. Our Ruppell's Robin-chat then began to sing, and preen, in full view during a light shower. He (or maybe it was she) imitated our Spotted Morning Thrushes' imitation of those lovely reedy flight trills of migrant Madagascar Bee-eaters.

African Monarch & Epauletted Fruit Bat photographs by Martin Goodey