"... When the nesting time arrives, a hollow tree or branch is chosen—preferably one with a long, narrow, nearly vertical cavity, and a narrow entrance at the top. Then the female builds her nest, which consists of strips nibbled from the edges of green leaves. Having cut a strip, she inserts one end of it under her scarlet rump-feathers, apparently digging it well into the skin; this does not however, prevent a large proportion of the strips from falling out. When a rumpful of strips is collected, she flies off to her nest-hole and deposits them, accumulating a large mass, on top of which the eggs, two or three in number, are laid."
—G.M. Henry about Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot in A Guide to the Birds of Sri Lanka, first published in 1955.
Friday, 10 December, 2011. A respite at last after days of deluge. I came out of my house to enjoy the first rays of sunlight after days of gloom. Well, actually, to put my towel out to dry. Soon, a familiar call drew my attention to the Cinnamon tree in front. It was a Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot—an endemic bird that is more than an occasional visitor to my yard. In all honesty, I wouldn't have noticed it had it not betrayed its presence, for it was merged into the foliage like a traffic policeman in a dark roadside corner.
I ran back to my house get my camera to photograph it, after noticing what it was doing—tearing leaf strips, and tucking them inside its lower back, which is also known as the rump. Knowing that I do not have a lot of time to adjust the settings, I fired some record shots, and the above was the best out of the lot. This was the first time observed this "backpacking" behaviour described so well by the late G.M. Henry, whose book mentioned above was my first guide to birds.