When I first came to Auroville with my family in 1973 we spent five weeks living in a dilapidated, semi-open thatched hut in the horticultural nursery. Being two adults and two children, it felt quite crowded, but we soon discovered that we were also sharing it with numerous other occupants. Chief among them were some 18 toads, who lived under the kitchen cupboard and in various other cool spots around the house.

When we first moved in, we decided to 'shoo' them all out, and with a concerted effort we almost succeeded; but as we scrabbled about trying to get the last three or four to leave, we turned round to only see the first dozen or more hopping back in again! Twice we tried, and twice they all came back within a space of 10 minutes. Then we gave up, and settled down to our first experience of living in Auroville, i.e. living with nature!

That hut was an unforgettable introduction. Not only was it full of toads at ground level, but the roof was a veritable wildlife park. Frogs hid in the palm-leaf thatch, and snakes went up there to find them. A feeble cry from above usually heralded the end of the frog, but the snakes weren't always successful. Sometimes the frogs would escape by jumping down onto our beds – on one memorable occasion immediately followed by the snake, which fell onto a mosquito net I was putting up. There was a frozen moment of shocked confrontation, before we each jumped back in opposite directions!

In the world of that hut's thatched roof, these and mice were the big game species. But there were also many other creatures up there, from cockroaches and lizards to ants and spiders, plus termites by the thousand. We had only to touch the roof and the whole structure 'rattled' with the latter's synchronous vibrations. When the time came for our departure after our five-week stay, it was like saying goodbye to a familiar zoo.

When I finally returned to live in Auroville in 1977, one of the first friendships I made was with Dietra, an American woman living in the settlement of Gratitude. She was brilliant with injured and fledgling birds. She also later did something else wonderful for Auroville, which was to introduce peacocks into our environment after an initial intensive breeding programme using chickens as surrogate mothers. Today they are seen all over Auroville, and are breeding successfully in the forested areas. (Some years ago, I had 14 of them walk across my garden in a single awesome parade!)

Most of my memorable confrontations with nature, excepting those in and around my own residence, were in connection with Gratitude where I lived while waiting for my own place to be completed. I remember one evening, while there, going out to a nearby communal dining facility for my evening meal, and coming back to a semi-nightmare in my room. I didn't know it at the time, but the wooden beams had been penetrated by termites, and it was their mating-flight night! As I approached the room I couldn't make out what was causing the heavy rustling sound I heard coming from within – until I entered, and walked into a cloud of fluttering insects, trapped inside by the screened windows. It took nearly two hours to clear them all out.

Not long after I had moved to my own place, I found that a dozen small eggs in a pile of builder's sand being removed from outside my house. I carried them down to Dietra for her opinion. "Could be lizard eggs," she said, and then suggested I leave them with her to see if they would hatch. They did that same night, but instead of harmless lizards out popped 12 snakes, which then proceeded to escape and hide all over her house. The following morning my popularity rating was zero!

Dietra levelled scores with me not long after, however, through her dog. In a moment of weakness I had let it share my room after it turned up whimpering and drenched at my door one night during a prolonged monsoon downpour. It smelled strongly of wet fur, but settled quietly for the night. The next morning, after I had sent it on its way, I was puzzled to see some small, grey, pebble-like objects on the floor, each nearly a centimeter long. On closer examination I found they were huge ticks, engorged to bursting point on the dog's blood. It had generously left five of them, which seemed poor payment for the night's lodging, but adequate repayment for the snake eggs!

Dietra also scored via a young kite she had reared and released, which used to swoop down on me and other unsuspecting visitors to grab objects we were carrying. It was a special menace at the tennis courts, where it delighted in sometimes catching lobbed balls in mid-air and flying off with them! (Courtesy: Sri Aurobindo's Action)