Munsiyari’s Omnipresent Alpine Accentors and Their Love Lives

In every place I have been, there always seems to be one thing in nature that acts as a constant presence through my exploration of the place. A bird, coral reef, spider, tree or rock is always around on every walk or swim, bringing a sense of familiarity to a place. In Bangalore city, I find comfort in seeing an ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne sp.); in Munsiyari, I found it in the alpine accentor (Prunella collaris). In November 2022, while rambling through the surreal mountainous ecosystem around Munsiyari, I was looking for the fascinating animals that live there. I explored montane forests, grassy slopes and snowy expanses. I saw ridiculously large vultures (Himalayan griffons), tiny tailless pikas (Himalayan pikas), and diverse other life forms. Somehow, an alpine accentor was always around at each of those moments. The alpine accentor and I have watched each other on roads, snowcapped peaks, and grassy trails.

The roads around Munsiyari have been carved into the sides of hills and mountains. The winding roads pass through valleys and montane forests in the lower mountains and through lush grasses in the upper reaches where it is too cold for trees. Above the golden grasses, a blinding white blanket of snow covers the mountains to their peaks. Alpine accentors typically avoid the forested sections and are found amid the rocks, grass, scrub, and snow of Munsiyari’s mountains. Across these treeless habitats, I watched small alpine accentors (15-19 cm) hop around searching for seeds, grasses, and insects. After primarily feeding on insects and spiders in the warmer spring months (March-May), they feed on seeds rich in lipids (fatty acids) during the winter. Fats are important food stores for the birds during the cold winter when food availability is likely lower. Fat-rich foods and puffy feathers help this stout little bird stay warm.

 

The alpine accentor’s ubiquitous presence around Munsiyari is a good analogy for its wide distribution across three continents. They are distributed throughout temperate Eurasia and northwest Africa, as far east as Japan and as far west as Morocco. The hardy bird has been spotted at sea level in coastal Russia and as high as 8,000 m in the Himalayas. It is the bird with the broadest elevational range. In India, the alpine accentor lives in the high-altitude Himalayan Region in Jammu and Kashmir, Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Sikkim, Assam and Arunachal Pradesh. My tryst with the bird in November was thanks to their migration to warmer pastures in winter. The little bird migrates within its region to relatively lower altitudes like Munsiyari, ranging from 2,000-3,500 m. During their breeding season (warm months of May to August), these Himalayan residents fly back to cooler climes at altitudes of 3,600-5,000 m.

 

Alpine accentors have song-filled polyamorous love lives. In more technical terms, alpine accentors are songbirds (suborder: Passeri) that are polygynandrous, i.e., they form mating groups of multiple males and females. The group’s males have a social hierarchy with one dominant male (alpha) and subordinate males (beta and gamma). This translates to the mating order, with the dominant alpha male getting to mate first, followed by beta and gamma males. Male alpine accentors do not engage in elaborate courtship displays but wait for an invitation from their female groupmates. During the mating season, female accentors sing a pleasant-sounding series of trills and low purrs interspersed with chirpy notes (like a tiny harmonica playing a repetitive high-pitched solo). These calls and songs are invitations to their male counterparts to copulate with them. The female members do not have an explicit social hierarchy but an age-based pecking order that puts older females at the front of the mating line. Older females “sing” more complex songs and lay more eggs. As a result, older female accentors in the group are likelier to be picked first by the alpha male.

With each female accentor singing an invitation, the alpha male typically mates in quick succession with all the female members of the group. After mating with the dominant alpha male, each female accentor continues to sing, calling the other males to copulate with her. Through aggressive singing and displays, the alpha male does his best to guard fertile female members from the other males in the group. He ideally tries to ensure each female exclusively bears his progeny. However, the alluring calls of the female accentor lead to a raunchy round-robin within the group. Each female mates multiple times with multiple males, and most females in the group lay a clutch of eggs from various paternities. Some females that may have been actively guarded by the alpha male go on to lay eggs with the alpha male as the single paternal parent. This promiscuous mating behaviour leads to a significant parenting advantage. The female carries most of the parenting load, selecting a nesting site, building the nest and laying the eggs. However, males who have mated with a female are known to help by bringing food for the young and guarding the nest from potential predators. The amount of mating access the female provides the male determines how much parenting help he extends later.

I watched juveniles (distinguished from adults by the lack of a speckled pattern on the throat) forage alongside adults in small flocks of up to 10 birds. Some of these juveniles were eggs just 4-6 months ago! And now they casually scaled rocky walls, sat cosily on snowy rocks, and reassuringly kept me company through many cold days in the snowy-grassy mountains of Munsiyari.

The omnipresent alpine accentor was my constant companion in Munsiyari, and I look forward to seeing it again in other parts of temperate Eurasia or Africa. And when I do see their tiny orangish bodies, I will find comforting familiarity even in new spaces.