The Song of the Oriole

A Maroon Oriole sings in the high lands of Nagaland before dusk!
Walking through the highland forests of Nagaland, it was us who walked back towards our car as it would be dark soon. Dark enough for Fireflies to get lost. Human settlement far enough to not know who their neighboring villagers are. And hence it was crucial to be in the car before it was dark as none of us had torches. Something we never anticipated on a casual afternoon walk. Our feet moved over a land of short grass that soaked between wet soil and the stream water. The closer we got to our vehicle the more scanty the sounds around us got. As the bird calls died the Cicada calls rose. And then it was the Oriole that had the last call of the birds. Loud and clear, it echoed in the valleys only to disappear with the light. 
Image made during Nagaland Journeys.

Small: A4: 11.69 X 8.27 inches
Medium: A3: 16.53 X 11.69 inches
Large: 2 X 3 feet : 24 X 36 inches