Let’s not miss the woods for the trees

With the onset of the monsoon, now is the time to see those magical fireflies with lights glowing at the end of their bodies. In order to see a jugnu though, there are a few boxes to be ticked. Most fireflies like complete darkness—and so there should be no artificial light pollution in the area. They also like tall, lush vegetation in wet areas, so there should be trees, bushes, long grasses and ground cover where you are looking. Like many other Indian wild animals and birds, fireflies look for mates in the monsoon. And they need wildernesses—a semblance of a wild, velvety dark habitat—in order to be seen.

The good news is that across India, citizens are standing up for trees and wild habitats. A tree is like an individual, a single feature of a landscape. A habitat is a collection of such features—it is the way different trees connect and communicate with each other (through their roots, what is known as the ‘wood wide web), the way soil gives birth to bioluminescent fungus and seedlings, the way rockfaces shelter reptiles and beetles. A habitat is formed over time; it is a space that has gone through progressive workings to 
create homes for wildlife. And occasionally, homes for the human explorer.

In the National Capital Region of Delhi, the fight for the last forests of Gurugram and Faridabad reached the Supreme Court. In July, the court ruled that areas in the Aravallis covered under the 1900 Punjab Land Preservation Act are actually forests. It also recognised the features of these forests—the fact that they are a habitat that comprises trees which conserve sub-soil water and soil. In Mumbai, protests have been ongoing for years to save another habitat the Aarey forest, a lush area with hill-top forests that hold resident leopards, scorpions, wildflowers, and a new species of jumping spider, the Jerzegosunillimaye. The Aarey movement has seen its ups and downs because the government wants to build metro car sheds in the forest. The moot point that citizens are making though, in both Delhi and Mumbai, is that tree plantations cannot replace habitat.

Trees can grow on the central verges of roads in a few years, but a wild habitat, with its various interconnected strands and niches, takes decades or centuries to be formed. This monsoon, see if you can partake in some of these strands and sounds around you. Indian Bullfrogs are turning yellow to attract mates. Various kinds of bee-eaters—slender, streamlined birds that snap up bees, butterflies and dragonflies at breakneck speed—are nesting in sandy banks. The normally white Cattle egret has broken out into orange plumes to find a wife. The Indian Koel is calling, in order to lay cunning eggs in crow’s nests. The amphitheatre of life is resounding with sound. And it’s best experienced in a wild habitat near you.
Citizens from our biggest cities know this and are demonstrating that cities need forests and wild spaces more than ever. We should tune in.

Neha Sinha

Twitter: @nehaa_sinha