Edge of readiness

There are moments in nature when instinct runs ahead of strength—when a chick leans into the world before its wings are ready to hold it. At such times, promise and peril sit side by side: the urge to venture out, and the risk of doing so too soon.

The hungry hatchlings

I was delighted when a pair of red-whiskered bulbuls chose a palm cluster close to our home to build their nest. Each day, when the parents were away, I would peek in to see the hatchlings. They grew from formless tiny beings into hungry souls with beaks, feathers, and legs—waiting, always, for the next feed. Watching them, I was reminded how growth is never abrupt; it is a slow unfolding, one fragile step at a time.

From past experience I knew that young bulbuls usually leave the nest in 10 to 12 days, and I was keen to capture that moment. But one morning, the rhythm broke. One chick was missing. I searched the ground below, but found no trace. Too often, nests here are suddenly emptied, the work of coucals, macaques, or snakes. It is a reminder that every fragile life is carried forward under a watchful shadow.

The curious fledgling

The next day, the nest itself was empty. My heart sank, until I spotted movement—the chick had hopped onto the outer fronds of the umbrella palm. It seemed early, a day or two before its wings were ready. But readiness, I realised, is not only about strength; it is also about the will to take a chance.

First feed outside the nest

As I watched, the chick tried moving to another branch, slipped, and fell to the ground. Unhurt, but lost. The parents were nowhere in sight. I lifted it gently onto a perch I had set up nearby, hoping to give it a foothold. Soon, the parents returned and, to my delight, began feeding it right there. Their presence reminded me that venturing out may be risky, but support often arrives just when it is most needed.

The chick grew bolder on its perch, shuffling back and forth, stretching its wings as if testing an idea.

Still, I wasn’t sure it was ready for the outside world. After a while, I placed it back in the nest, hoping it would linger a day or two longer, to find strength before flight.

But nature writes its own script. What happened later that evening was something I did not expect—and that part of the story will have to wait for my next post.