Many of our city's birds announce their presence before you get to actually see them. Ever hear a loud, hollow, puk, puk, puk, or tonk, tonk, tonk, metallic sound being rhythmically tapped out in the distance? Sometimes people mistake it for the sound of chugging machinery, or a coppersmith tapping away at a vessel. Well it is the Coppersmith, the Crimson breasted Barbet - locally known as Tambat. Slightly larger or plumper than a sparrow, the Barbet is grass-green in colour overall, with a brilliant tuft of crimson at its throat and another prominent tuft like a 'sticker-bindi' on its forehead; its under-parts are yellowish, streaked green.

You'll spot the Barbet busy at work building its nest during this season. Say nest, and you usually think of a bunch of twigs lined with some soft material, resting on the branch of a tree. But so many of our birds choose the most intriguing and unusual locations and materials to nest in. With the aid of its heavy bill, the Barbet carves out a perfectly round hole - literally as if drawn with the aid of a compass - in the side of a dead tree trunk or branch. It is usually in a soft-wood tree, like the drumstick or coral, about 15 feet above the ground.

During the next couple of months, you could catch sight of a busy pair fussing over their new home. First they make recce trips - tapping on the branch to check out the material, surveying the area for signs of predators, and then they set about in right earnest. They get busy carving, excavating, and making it simply a perfect place for their future family - just large enough for Mom or Dad to enter, but too small for any of the birds of prey to get into. After preparing it to perfection, the Barbet will lay 3-4 white eggs, which both parents will take turns to tend. You can often spot a Barbet's face, sticker-bindi and all, peering out of the hole. This usually means that she's sitting on her eggs. Sometimes you will see just the olive green rump, the head tipped deep inside. This is one of the parents busy feeding little hatchlings inside. Both parents share domestic duties, rushing out every now and then in their characteristic clumsy-looking flight, to feed on wild fruit from the ficus family or to catch flying insects.

Fortunately for us, the Barbet seems as comfortable in noisy cities and populated areas as it is in wooded localities, parks or gardens - and if you tune your ears and train your eyes, you could spot a pair right between a leafless old tree in between two office buildings!

Anandi