Tanny
Well-known member
8th Feb 2008
Continuing with my exploits in F.R.I.M.
After getting the Woodpeckers, we waited for almost and hour and half without seeing any birds. I think it was due to my ‘Hot Feet’ that was causing me to fidget and hop around. And my brewery wasn’t helping with his big silly grin that spread from ear to ear. I decided enough is enough for no more birds were heard and personally I think it was that stupid woody who had something to do with the birds keeping silent. That stool-pigeon must have passed on the message that the Singh was about and stinking to high heaven of Tiger Balm. We came out from the jungle onto the road and then decided to go to the west side of FRIM, about five miles away where there is an old house hidden from view up on a hill. Of course we had to walk it because the car was parked over three miles behind. ‘Oh my burning feet’ good grief I didn’t think an idiot could be so idiotic, Tiger Balm plastered on my feet in a hot, steamy jungle, Blimey Singh you’ve lost it this time you hear. “Lol”.
Eventually we reached the house without seeing anything new and interesting to photograph. Behind the house is a small running stream, we crossed this and went into the jungle for about a hundred feet where there was a small clearing, huffing and puffing we sat down and I asked my brewery to take out the Ale. Wow, you should have seen his face; it lit up like a sunlight glow. I sat there resting with my back against a tree and took a long, slow swig of the cool Ale and then let out a tremendous burp. Can you believe it; the burning sensation vanished with that expulsion of gas. As we sat there silently, listening to the hum of insects and distant calls of different birds, we suddenly heard a loud rustling sound in the undergrowth about fifty feet away, then came a horrendous loud M-I-A-O-U call and the hairs on my arm and the back of my neck stood up on end. “What is it” I heard my brewery say in a terrified voice from high up in the tree. “Shush” I said with finger over my lips, and then asked him in a whisper, why is he hiding up the tree. His face peered down at me through the foliage and his eyes were as big as door knobs. “T-t-t-tiger” he stuttered. You idiot I exclaimed and shook my fist at him and had a hard time stifling a burst of laughter but if I did then every bird for miles around would fly away. Again there came two loud MIAOUS from the jungle and I could see the leaves shaking in the trees about forty feet away, then I saw them, two Malkohas flitting through the foliage. I waited till they were about thirty feet away before taking pictures. I managed to take five pictures before they heard the shutter and saw me, then like two mysterious ghosts they glided away to disappear into the deep jungle.
I looked up at my brewery who stared down at me with a sheepish grin on his face. “Tigers” I said, “Tigers here in this place” words failed me and I just shook my head and checked my watch and saw it was lunch time. We trudged the miles back to the car looked at my pictures. YES I had got them, my first. Hope you will like the pictures. Well just to stop thinking of my burning feet. This was the last picture I had taken and I only wish the little twig and leaves weren’t there but this bird is very sneaky and difficult bird to photograph in the jungle. I know ((((((cloning)))))????? But I don’t know how to do it, and neither do I like it. Chestnut-breasted Malkoha Phaenicophaeus curvirostris
Well people. I had to upload this picture I noticed it has Golden Eyes. According to Craig Robson's it is a female. At least we now know what a female looks like. Oh why do Females always like Gold? I know the picture isn’t too good but I couldn’t resist. I don’t want the females of the world to get annoyed with me.
Chestnut-breasted Malkoha ( Female Phaenicophaeus curvirostris
Continuing with my exploits in F.R.I.M.
After getting the Woodpeckers, we waited for almost and hour and half without seeing any birds. I think it was due to my ‘Hot Feet’ that was causing me to fidget and hop around. And my brewery wasn’t helping with his big silly grin that spread from ear to ear. I decided enough is enough for no more birds were heard and personally I think it was that stupid woody who had something to do with the birds keeping silent. That stool-pigeon must have passed on the message that the Singh was about and stinking to high heaven of Tiger Balm. We came out from the jungle onto the road and then decided to go to the west side of FRIM, about five miles away where there is an old house hidden from view up on a hill. Of course we had to walk it because the car was parked over three miles behind. ‘Oh my burning feet’ good grief I didn’t think an idiot could be so idiotic, Tiger Balm plastered on my feet in a hot, steamy jungle, Blimey Singh you’ve lost it this time you hear. “Lol”.
Eventually we reached the house without seeing anything new and interesting to photograph. Behind the house is a small running stream, we crossed this and went into the jungle for about a hundred feet where there was a small clearing, huffing and puffing we sat down and I asked my brewery to take out the Ale. Wow, you should have seen his face; it lit up like a sunlight glow. I sat there resting with my back against a tree and took a long, slow swig of the cool Ale and then let out a tremendous burp. Can you believe it; the burning sensation vanished with that expulsion of gas. As we sat there silently, listening to the hum of insects and distant calls of different birds, we suddenly heard a loud rustling sound in the undergrowth about fifty feet away, then came a horrendous loud M-I-A-O-U call and the hairs on my arm and the back of my neck stood up on end. “What is it” I heard my brewery say in a terrified voice from high up in the tree. “Shush” I said with finger over my lips, and then asked him in a whisper, why is he hiding up the tree. His face peered down at me through the foliage and his eyes were as big as door knobs. “T-t-t-tiger” he stuttered. You idiot I exclaimed and shook my fist at him and had a hard time stifling a burst of laughter but if I did then every bird for miles around would fly away. Again there came two loud MIAOUS from the jungle and I could see the leaves shaking in the trees about forty feet away, then I saw them, two Malkohas flitting through the foliage. I waited till they were about thirty feet away before taking pictures. I managed to take five pictures before they heard the shutter and saw me, then like two mysterious ghosts they glided away to disappear into the deep jungle.
I looked up at my brewery who stared down at me with a sheepish grin on his face. “Tigers” I said, “Tigers here in this place” words failed me and I just shook my head and checked my watch and saw it was lunch time. We trudged the miles back to the car looked at my pictures. YES I had got them, my first. Hope you will like the pictures. Well just to stop thinking of my burning feet. This was the last picture I had taken and I only wish the little twig and leaves weren’t there but this bird is very sneaky and difficult bird to photograph in the jungle. I know ((((((cloning)))))????? But I don’t know how to do it, and neither do I like it. Chestnut-breasted Malkoha Phaenicophaeus curvirostris
Well people. I had to upload this picture I noticed it has Golden Eyes. According to Craig Robson's it is a female. At least we now know what a female looks like. Oh why do Females always like Gold? I know the picture isn’t too good but I couldn’t resist. I don’t want the females of the world to get annoyed with me.
Chestnut-breasted Malkoha ( Female Phaenicophaeus curvirostris