New Delhi, Oct. 18 -- It was a good day.

The heat fell on our skin like acid. But a bird perched on top of a wire, moving his head from side to side, alert and unbothered. In a fluid movement, he snapped his wings open. Then he dived, a brilliant pinwheel of blues, of dashing primary and secondary feathers. He had seen something he wanted and he strove for it; through my binoculars I saw that the bird grasped his prey. The air shimmered gently with the heat, but the blue bird-the Indian roller or the Neelkanth-remained undaunted.

On another day, in an arid patch in Telangana, I watched a roller sit on a tree, its large beak parted in a gasp to accommodate the vagaries of the Indian summer. It was a striking sight through my binoculars: ...