Having spent the end of June in Golaghat, it was time to head back to Kathmandu. But before leaving, on the first morning of July, Prakash dai and I went on a short jeep safari to the community forest in Meghauli.
We set off early, driving through the quiet forest. After a while, we parked near the Rapti River and stood watching the surrounding grasslands, filled with the sound of rustling breeze and the calls of Red-wattled Lapwings as they flew around, when a hawk flew in and perched nearby in the forest. As we approached the riverbank, we were lucky to spot a Rhino and its calf grazing in the tall grass. With the monsoon in full swing, the foliage had thickened, and much of the view was obscured—but the Prinias perched visibly atop the swaying grasses, singing their distinctive notes.
Driving slowly along the jeep track, we arrived at one of my favorite spots in this forest, a second riverbank with a broader view of the landscape. As we emerged from the tall grass into the open, we saw a pair of Hog Deer grazing quietly at the edge of the clearing. They slowly disappeared behind the small dunes.
We stopped the vehicle and decided to wait. Over time, the forest came alive. One of the Hog Deer passed within 10–12 meters of our vehicle, grazing calmly. Nearby, a Little Cormorant had claimed a shallow pool of water and was busy diving for fish. Occasionally, it would surface, perch, and spread its wings to bask in the sun. A Little Egret, noticing the action, swooped in to join the hunt, an arrival that the Cormorant didn’t welcome. Across the river, a herd of Spotted Deer could be seen grazing alongside the riverbank.
The forest remained quiet, except for the occasional call of the Yellow-bellied Prinia. Then, suddenly, a flurry of wings would cut through the stillness. Although we’d been watching carefully, some birds would surprise us with their swift flight. We managed to spot and photograph an Oriental Darter and a Pond Heron mid-flight. Overhead, an Osprey circled the river, diving twice in an attempt to catch fish; both attempts were unsuccessful.
As the morning wore on and the sun climbed higher, we began making our way out of the forest. On the way, we stopped at a few watering holes to check for any signs of wildlife. We got lucky at one pond, where two female Rhinos were wallowing with their respective calves. The adults relaxed in the water while the calves leaned on their mother. A few frogs basked on the backs of the Rhinos, soaking up the sun. The calm breathing of the animals, the closed eyes, and the soft water sounds created a serene moment.
Golaghat is slowly becoming one of my favorite places. The mix of human settlements, buffer zone, riverbanks, and community forests makes it a dynamic landscape. While development is beginning to take hold, large swaths of open fields still remain. These fields attract birds like Ibises, Storks, Cranes, Kingfishers, Peafowls, and various raptors, each performing their roles in this ever-changing ecosystem.
PHULCHOWKI HIKE
Back in Kathmandu, I joined a hike with some close friends and their kids. We chose Phulchowki as our destination, and I was excited to introduce them to the incredible flora and fauna of the area. We began our walk from Godawari, heading toward the road that leads up to Phulchowki. The round trip covered about 5.2 kilometers.
The tall Uttis trees (Alder) lining the trail filtered the morning light, casting long shadows and creating a cool, damp forest atmosphere. Bird calls echoed around us, sparking curiosity about where the singers might be hiding in the thick vegetation. The melodious tune of the Blue Whistling Thrush blended beautifully with the songs of warblers and the raspy k-r-r-r-r of a Grey Treepie.
The walk became even more exciting as the kids started spotting insects and small creatures along the trail. Together, we found millipedes, a couple of snails and slugs, some caterpillars, and a few cicadas. Their excitement reminded me of my own early days in nature. Learning about ecosystems from a young age nurtures a lasting appreciation for nature and its conservation, and it was heartening to see this spark in them.
Along the way, we also spotted several birds: Rufous Sibia, Green-backed Tit, Brown-throated Treecreeper, Great Barbet, Spotted Dove, and Yuhina. A lone Rhesus Macaque was foraging near the edge of the forest. While heading back, we noticed two young Grey Treepies waiting for their parents to return with food. These juveniles were fresh out of the nest, practicing short flights between the Uttis trees, building confidence in the air.
HIABUNG AND DHAP DAM
A week later, we hit the trails again, this time for an overnight trip near Hiabung, on the outskirts of Shivapuri Nagarjun National Park, toward the Chisapani side. It had been years since I last visited this area. A decade ago, it used to be part of my long mountain bike rides through the park and down to Chisapani. Retracing those steps brought a wave of nostalgia. The buffer zone hadn’t changed much, and the forest still held its quiet charm. The trails, however, had been widened and were more durable than I remembered.
The landscape was dotted with giant ferns as we were driven in by a jeep from the resort. The northern side of the park was noticeably moister, shaded, and cool, with the calls of Rufous Sibias echoing from the canopy. While cruising down the trail, we spotted a pair of Yellow-throated Martens darting along the forest edge. They followed a rocky outcrop before disappearing into the dense thicket. As the fog rolled up the hill, visibility dropped in and out, adding a mysterious mood to the journey.
After checking in and freshening up, we set off on a short hike to Dhap Dam. I was eager to revisit this small pond I used to pass during my rides to Chisapani. It had since been transformed into a reservoir, with stone embankments built to hold water, part of a broader effort to ensure water security in the Bagmati River basin. Unfortunately, much of the water had been released, leaving behind a shallow basin. Still, it helped me imagine what the place looked like before the changes happened.
We walked along the reservoir’s edge, discovering various forms of flora and fauna. We came across several mushroom species, dragonflies, damselflies, and birds. Suraj even managed to spot a couple of Kalij Pheasants. Luckily, there were fewer people than expected, even though it was a weekend, which made the experience more peaceful.
Back at the resort, I wandered the grounds with my camera, looking out for birds. While standing on a deck overlooking the forest, I heard a loud, familiar three-note call—keee… kee… ke! I looked up and saw a Crested Serpent Eagle soaring overhead. Soon, another joined it, and the pair slowly glided southward toward the deeper forest.
As the sun set, birds began returning to their roosts. Nearby, I spotted Spotted Doves, Oriental White-eyes, Black-lored Tits, and Grey-hooded Warblers. Further up the slope, the calls of Rufous Sibia and Grey Treepie carried through the trees.
Early morning, we walked up a bit from where we could observe the mountains and the valley below, Kaule Bazar. We hoped the clouds would part to reveal the mountains, but luck wasn’t on our side. Just a brief window opened, offering a short glimpse of a couple of ranges before they were swallowed by cloud again.
Later, a short hike led us to a viewpoint, or rather, the front yard of a local home. Though the mountains remained hidden, the mist rolling in and out brought its own charm. A pair of Yellow-billed Blue Magpies flew low around the edges of the nearby house, foraging curiously, while a Grey-hooded Warbler sang from a tree just below the resort.
We lingered there for a while, in the quiet between mountain hopes and bird songs.
Heading back, farther down the path, some agitated calls from Streaked Laughingthrushes caught my attention. Perched on a tree, one of the birds had a caterpillar in its beak, likely preparing to feed its young. Looking closer, I saw the cause of the alarm: a domestic cat was prowling along the tree’s branches.
After a bit of a standoff and some branch-shaking, the cat finally climbed down. Both Laughingthrushes flew to a nearby perch, still calling, possibly trying to lure the predator away.
The encounter was a vivid reminder of the unseen threats domestic pets pose to wildlife. Spaying, neutering, and responsible pet ownership aren’t just urban concerns; they’re vital steps in reducing the toll cats and dogs take on native bird and small mammal populations, especially around forest edges and buffer zones.
SOLITUDE ON THE TRAIL
Sometimes the most rewarding moments in nature come when you’re alone, with no agenda but to listen, observe, and follow your curiosity. On the morning of our return from Hiabung, I decided to walk part of the jeep track through the forest before the resort vehicle and my friends caught up to me. What followed was a quiet, rewarding solo walk filled with small but powerful encounters.
I left 30 minutes early and began hiking the jeep trail through the forest, the same one we had driven up the day before. The silence was priceless. As the sun slowly broke through the canopy, small birds like Black-throated Tits, Warblers, and Black-lored Tits flitted from tree to tree, foraging and singing. Butterflies fluttered lazily along the path.
Now and then, rustling in the undergrowth alerted me to activity, but the thick foliage made it hard to see. I suspected it might be Laughing Thrushes, which love foraging on the forest floor, but perhaps the timing was off, or I simply needed more patience.
I checked my watch. The vehicle would catch up in about 10 minutes, so I kept moving, occasionally stopping to photograph the foliage, a dead snake on the trail, and the massive, lush ferns that blanketed this part of the park. While walking, I heard a distant bird call and paused to track it. A Small Niltava sat perched high on a branch, staring back at me from the shadows.
I had hoped to reach a marshy patch deeper into the forest. About 100 meters short, I stumbled upon something that made me stop in my tracks: a female Grey Bushchat feeding her fledgling. The chick was perched on a shrub, calling out as the mother darted around, catching caterpillars and other larvae to bring back. It was a gentle, intimate moment, watching the cycle of life unfold, even for just a few minutes.
Eventually, the jeep and my friends caught up. I had walked just over 1.5 kilometers, capturing a handful of beautiful moments and reinforcing a goal I’ve set for myself to return and walk this entire forest trail one day, documenting all the incredible biodiversity it holds.
As we drove back, I managed to spot another mushroom species along the trail, as well as another dead snake, both documented and noted before the forest closed behind us and we were back in the city.
BACK ON THE TRAILS OF BHIMDHUNGA
The month ended on a high note with a sunrise ride to one of my favorite birding spots, Bhimdhunga. With low clouds lingering, a clear trail ahead, and birds calling from the treetops, it was a reminder of why this place keeps drawing me back.
By the end of July, I managed to squeeze in an early 6 a.m. biking and birding ride to Bhimdhunga. The trail was surprisingly clear, with low clouds hanging above the valley and the surrounding landscape visible in the soft morning light. Though there had been rockfalls from the previous night’s rain, the trail was in better condition than expected.
As I rode slowly, I noticed bird activity near a tree and stopped. A Grey-headed Woodpecker called out from nearby, but my focus was drawn to a flash of color I hadn’t seen before; it looked like a Minivet in eclipse plumage. I only managed an ID shot, but it was enough to note for later confirmation.
Further down the trail, a group of Black Bulbuls created a ruckus near a line of trees. Amid their chatter, I caught the distinct, subtle song of a Plain Flowerpecker as it hopped between branches, actively surveying its surroundings.
I continued on to my usual favorite spot but paused at a small village on the way, exchanging greetings with a few locals. One of them asked why I’d been away for almost a month, friendly reminders of how often I frequent these trails. I promised to stop for tea next time and headed toward the forest section.
The trail looked different. Shrubs had grown taller, and the visibility was better compared to the fog a month ago. I spotted several blooming Orange Ginger Lilies and noticed that ferns had expanded across more of the landscape. I paused, took a deep breath, and began observing the activity around me.
The Foxtail Orchids had stopped blooming, but new epiphytic growths were visible on trees. An Ashy Drongo was perched high, darting out occasionally in acrobatic flights to catch insects mid-air. On a nearby fruiting tree, a few Orange-bellied Himalayan Squirrels moved cautiously between branches, keeping a distance from one another, and territory mattered during feeding. Grey Treepies also joined in, grabbing fruit between flights.
I hadn’t heard the Maroon Oriole yet, but soon a clear, whistling note came from deeper in the jungle. Moments later, one appeared, feeding on the same tree as the squirrels. This mixed forest habitat continues to surprise me with its diversity. I’m especially curious to see what migratory or altitudinal species show up during the winter months when birds descend to lower elevations.
While photographing some plants in another section of the forest, I heard a loud rustling across the forest floor, a mammal sprinting through dense foliage. It ran for about 200 meters before stopping near a stream. Although I couldn’t see it clearly, the sound and movement suggested it was likely a Barking Deer.
By late morning, with my stomach rumbling and the black clouds in the sky moving in, I decided to head home. It had been a fulfilling month exploring forests, riverbanks, hills, and valleys. Each outing, whether with friends, on foot, or two or four wheels, revealed something new.
July brought a diversity of moments, from quiet forest walks to playful rhino calves in hidden ponds. Below is a list of the flora and fauna I was able to observe or document this month across the valley and beyond.
Species Observed in July
Bird:
Lesser Adjutant, Red-wattled Lapwing, Indian Peafowl, Little Cormorant, Little Egret, Oriental Darter, Pond Heron, Yellow-bellied Prinia, Osprey, Himalayan Flameback, Blue Whistling Thrush, Grey Treepie, Rufous Sibia, Green-backed Tit, Brown-throated Treecreeper, Great Barbet, Crested Serpent Eagle, Spotted Dove, Oriental White-eye, Black-lored Tit, Grey-hooded Warbler, Yellow-billed Blue Magpie, Red-rumped Swallow, Streaked Laughingthrush, Small Niltava, Grey Bushchat, White-rumped Munia, Black Bulbul, Plain Flowerpecker, Ashy Drongo, Verditer Flycatcher, Velvet-fronted Nuthatch, Maroon Oriole, Scaly-breasted Munia, Blue-throated Barbet, White-crested Laughingthrush, Long-tailed Shrike, Rusty-cheeked Scimitar Babbler, Black Drongo, Scarlet Minivet, White-throated Kingfisher, Himalayan Bulbul, Cattle Egret, etc.
Mammal:
One‑horned Rhinoceros, Hog Deer, Spotted Deer, Orange-bellied Himalayan Squirrel, Rhesus Macaque.
Insect:
Horse Fly, Long-horn Beetle, Cicada, Millipede, Moths, Leafhopper, Blowfly, Epicauta rufidorsum, Orb-weaving Spider, Harvestmen Spider, Phyllobius Sp. Weevils, Stinging Nettle Slug Caterpillar, Honey Bees, Bumble Bees, etc.
Plant:
Large-Leaf Beauty Berry (Callicarpa macrophylla), Orange Ginger Lily (Hedychium coccineum), Fern, Blue Himalayan Hydrangea (Hydrangea febrifuga), Java Pennywort (Hydrocotyle javanica Thunb.), Impatiens Sp., Utis (Alnus nepalensis), Foxtail Orchid, etc.
Fungi & Lichen:
Possibly a Parasola plicatilis sp., Shaggy Cap (Boletellus emodensis), etc.
Ajay Narsingh Rana
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