Pollen, this way . . .

May 13th, 2012 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

Wild weather of recent years has opened up Collserola’s woods, and one of the most rapid colonisers of the new clearings has been the rock rose, especially Sage-leaf Cistus.  This May everywhere you look, hundreds and hundreds of white flowers are shining in the sunlight.

The yellow base of each petal emphasizes the thick clump of stamen, creating a densely yellow heart.

Insects are drawn to the rich, easily accessible supplies of pollen. As well as bumblebees and white-spotted rose beetles I found this male Anthaxia hungarica, with enormous black eyes and green metallic sheen, dining in radiant surroundings.

Another member of the Rock rose family was in flower, Tuberaria guttata, with a strongly marked red-brown ring to guide pollinators to their target.

While holm oaks and pines predominate, in the north of Collserola there are many deciduous oaks. Here, under the shade of the new canopy, Granny’s Nightcaps (Aquilegia vulgaris) are blooming.  The elaborately structured flowers hang down, and the nectar is stowed deep within, at the end of narrow, neatly coiled spurs. Bumble bees were out foraging, but instead of disappearing inside the flower in search of their booty, and emerging dusted in pollen, they were settling on top.  Each spur had a small hole bitten out: the flowers were being cleaned out by backdoor thieves!

When winter turns to spring

March 8th, 2012 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

February 2012 will be remembered as one of the coldest on record in Catalunya. Waterfalls and rivers froze solid, and thin layers of ice even covered the ponds in Barcelona’s parks. The bitter Siberian air finally abated, and the sun felt warm again. One of the Montjuic castle sparrows was airing his feathers and singing non-stop in celebration.

A prize piece of territory on the Cami del Mar is the corner where people sit and look at the view, and quite often eat at the same time.  The robin that rules there looks sleek and smooth, no longer a ball of fluffy insulation.

Across the road from the Funicular station, there’s a tall row of shrubs, with glossy, laurel-like leaves.  Rustling and squabbling sounds emanate, as blackcaps have taken up residence there.  They are coming to the end of a copious supply of berries.

On the Cingles de Berti, small tokens of spring are visible: the first grape hyacinths and liverwort.  A common toad surprised on the path tries to ward off attack by inflating itself and standing on tiptoe, before deciding to bury itself in the leaf mulch.  Then, spotted in the distance, a long strand of birds crosses the sky, forming an immense curve: a hundred cranes powering their way north.

 

A diversity of spiders

December 17th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

If you wish to live and thrive, let the spider run alive 

Enthroned in a Pitch Trefoil flower, the Heather crab spider (Thomisus onustus) had arrayed its legs like a multi-limbed deity.  The colour of raspberry-ripple ice cream, it blended in well with the purple bloom where it meditated, invisible to prey and predator.  Enormous forelegs lay in wait.

It’s always worth getting up close and making eye contact with a Jumping spider. This female Carrhotus xanthogramma was spotted on a Common Smilax leaf.  

Her abdomen has handsome tawny markings.

Shining a torch in a spooky underground chamber in the middle of Collserola’s woods revealed a colony of Meta bourneti – a Cave Spider of the Tetragnathidae family.   The light cast great leggy shadows on the vaulted walls and picked out the prominent black bristles.  Like other Orb spiders, these cave-dwellers rely mainly on these touch sensors to hunt.  They seemed to hang in mid-air, perfectly in tune with the vibrations in their nearly invisible webs.

The Wasp Spider (Argiope bruennichi) adds drama wherever it sets up camp.  There were several alongside Vallvidrera reservoir at the end of summer.  They’d slung their webs low down in the grass where dragonflies cruise.


 

Birds on Migration in Barcelona

October 9th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

The three Honey buzzards soaring over Montjuic Castle run into a swarm of Alpine swifts, and start circling to gain height.  When they are specks they continue southwards. They are the most notable of the raptors who take the Catalan coastal route.

Montjuic overflows with birds during autumn migration.  Swallows are swooping low over freshly cut grass. The robin population has multiplied.  One feisty individual is jostling other birds out of a stand of trees. The woods and parks become incredibly crowded with them: too many robins in the broth, so inevitably some have to keep moving further south or inland.

Another redbreast is in evidence, the Common redstart, far from common in Barcelona, and only glimpsed on spring and autumn passage. Unlike its not particularly close relative, the Black redstart, who arrives to spend the winter, its destination is tropical Africa.

Flycatchers – spotted and pied – make protracted stopovers in the city’s parks, breaking up the long haul south. The warm weather ensures plenty of insects so they can fatten up for the tough journey ahead: the sea followed by a desert that’s expanding year by year. Slim, sprightly birds, you notice them as they repeatedly launch themselves to scoop up prey and return to the same perch.

In the woods, firecrests are back, travelling with the tit flocks, always in the lowest branches, and last to move on. There was lots to eat in this holm oak infested with gall midge larvae.

Close encounter with Charaxes jasius: the Two-tailed Pasha

August 28th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

You don’t have to look for Two-tailed Pashas, they will find you.  A friend had described the exact scene of a very close encounter with this sultan of butterflies last year.  It was now late August, the heat had abated slightly, so I headed straight there.

A tiny Praying mantis was a distraction on the way, sitting on top of a seeding Matabou umbel.

praying-mantis-nymph-sitting-on-shrubby-hares-ear-near-barcelona

When I reached the remote, unvisited location, deep within Collserola, nothing stirred except for a boar, who was trundling through the bushes, before emerging to cross the track and disappearing into an overgrown gully.  The habitat was perfect: shrubby open woodland on a high ridge, with lots of strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo – the Pasha’s food plant), so I decided to sit down, eat some breakfast and see what turned up.

Within minutes I’d been spotted.  The Pasha flew fast around my head, inspected the camera on my lap, and then stuck its proboscis into my sandwich.  It was immediately whipped out again, as if in distaste – uggh! So where’s my rum-soaked rotten banana?

The butterfly then flew up to its vantage point high up in a pine tree, where it remained a while, until giving chase to another Pasha. The rival had staked out an adjoining territory, which it surveyed from a small oak tree.

two-tailed-pasha-charaxes-jasius-guarding-its-territory

It sallied down to some faeces in a holly oak bush. It ignored me, absorbed in feeding, using a startlingly red proboscis, which I’ve never seen before (aren’t they usually black?). The beautiful tapestry of the underwings countered the pong of the food matter.

two-tailed-pasha-feeding-on-faeces-with-a-big-red-proboscis

Still trespassing, I was subjected to another prolonged attack. Intensely beating butterfly wings can only tickle, but the determination with which the Pasha repeatedly charged towards me made me want to duck. Then it started sucking at the sweat on my arm, and sat on my shoulder for a while.  Who cared where it might’ve perched before.

Their fearless nature and love of alcohol can get the Two-tailed Pashas into trouble.  A video on Youtube shot by a holidaymaker somewhere on the Med shows one drinking spilt beer on the table, and then falling to the ground when attempting to fly.

Iberian Blue-tailed Damselflies on Montjuic

July 29th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

Large flocks of Blue-tailed damselflies (Ischnura graellsii) emerge from the ponds in Montjuic’s Jardins de Verdaguer.  They’re so tiny that in flight often all you can make out is a quivering blue blob.  When they settle, the spot of blue turns out to be the tail end of an endless abdomen (segment 8, to be precise).

the-tiny-iberian-blue-tailed-damselfly-ischnura-graellsii

Throughout the month of June the Blue-tails are harvested by House sparrows.  Bills bristling with wings,  the sparrows somehow manage to keep on collecting without dropping any of the existing catch.  You can imagine their nestlings getting fat on plentiful damselfly protein.

house-sparrow-hunts-for-damselflies-in-the-pond

By the end of July, the pond vegetation is full of Tree frogs (Hyla meridionalis),  perching motionless alongside the Blue-tails.  I found one very slowly ingesting its meal, till it seemed to be champing on a blue-tipped cigar.  One tremendous gulp and the rest was engulfed.

tree-frog-hyla-meridionalis-eats-bluetailed-damselfly-ischnura-graellsii

Food chains are long and complex.  Damselflies hunt small flies . . .

cannibalism-in-blue-tailed-damselfies-female-eats-teneral

. . . and each other.  As the sunlight broke free of the early morning clouds, it stirred the damsels from their resting places. A newly emerged Blue-tail on its maiden flight was immediately snatched, hoisted up and devoured by a mature female.

On the rocks: high altitude flora in the eastern Pyrenees

July 4th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

We turned our backs on the complex of buildings, ski lifts and artificial lake, and started climbing. It was a cold clear morning in Núria on Sant Joan’s day, and the group of walkers off the cremallera* rapidly dispersed in a variety of directions.   * rack railway

The valley of Núria is an olla, or pot.  In a tough annual race, runners follow its rim, tracing the circle of mountains, which range between 2,700 and 3,000 metres.  But individually the peaks are very accessible for a day’s walk, considering your starting point is at 2,000 m.  Our destination was Noucreus, at 2,790 m.

Past the pines and extensions of alpenrose (Rhododendron ferrugineum), marmots were bounding across the grassy slopes. One got chased into its burrow by a wheatear. The nesting bird fluttered incessantly around the rodent’s head like an angry butterfly.  Alpine gentians (Gentiana nivalis) cover the grass here, low to the ground, barely flinching in the sudden strong gusts of wind.

alpine-gentian-gentiana nivalis-in-nuria-pyrenees

The way is steep, so before long you’re commanding a good view of the valley, the Núria complex still in view but increasingly remote. Then the path zigzags onto the scree and the majesty of the surroundings takes over completely.

climbing-to-noucreus-from-nuria-in-catalan-pyrenees

The sight of plants cheerfully flowering in this desolate expanse of rock took me by surprise. The Parnassus-leaved buttercup (Ranunculus parnassifolius) has large white petals densely veined in pink, and dark green leaves. Its secret to surviving in this shifting world of rubble is a thick clump of roots, ensuring a secure anchorage.

parnassus-leaved-buttercup-in-scree-below-noucreus-in-catalan-pyrenees

parnassus-leaved-buttercup-ranunculus-parnassifolius-in-the-scree

Nearby Spoon-leaved Candytuft (Iberis spathulata), a member of the Crucifer family, was peeking coquettishly out of the rocks.  This plant adopts a different strategy, spending the winter in seed-form until the next growing season.

spoon-leaved-candytuft-iberis-spathulata-in-scree-below-noucreus-in-pyrenees

spoon-leaved-candytuft-flowers-iberis-spathulata

Another plant, Senecio leucophyllus, still hadn’t produced its dense yellow flowerheads, but its velvety frilly leaves had spread widely.  Once decomposed, all this biomass would be a great contribution to the richness of the soil below the scree.

senecio-leucophyllus-in-scree-above-nuria-in-catalan-pyrenees

I felt exposed on this narrow path, teetering slightly after bending to take photographs. There was nothing to hold onto, just an expanse of grey stone, falling away steeply. But what at first glance might seem a harsh, inhospitable desert is clearly a good home for a well-adapted plant. Low clouds frequently shroud these mountains, and the moisture condenses on the stones, to trickle down below. The scree then protects the soil from drying out in the strong sun.

The stark scattering of iron crosses on the Noucreus pass mark the deaths of travellers who tried to cross the mountain in snow but conditions that June morning were very benign. We lingered for hours, enthralled by the view and the vultures that regularly coasted past, including two Lammergeiers, who cruised slowly above the peaks.  Far below in another valley was a herd of about 100 chamois – the young taking it easy while the mothers foraged.

the-crosses-at-noucreus-nuria-pyrenees

On the peak itself there’s a sloping slab of rock, and sheltering underneath I found a Pyrenean endemic, Saxifraga pubescens.

saxifrage-pubescens-at-2870-metres-noucreus-nuria-pyrenees

Nearby, a tight cluster of soil-hugging rock plants had enabled the Alpine Forgetmenot to survive on the peaks, well above its usual alpine pasture habitat.

alpine-forgetmenot-myosotis-alpestris-at-over-2700-metres-in-catalan-pyrenees

Peregrine falcon chicks on Montjuic get ringed

May 29th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

The two agentes rurales had the difficult job of abseiling down Montjuic’s inaccessible cliff face and retrieving the three Falcon chicks from their nest, while one of the adult Peregrines repeatedly dived towards them, calling in alarm. The fiddly work was then in the hands of Eduard Durany, general overseer of Barcelona’s Peregrine population, with help from Josep García, an expert on herons among other things.

First out of the bag was a male, identified by its smaller size.  At just over three weeks old, it was still covered in sparse white down.

peregrine-falcon-chick-in-montjuic-barcelona

Read the rest of this entry »

In the jungle – Mediterranean insects

May 20th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

It’s the month of May and plants are fighting for space. In the dense, overgrown jungle roams a large yellow beast (well, 2-3 cm long). It has the silhouette of an anteater, except for those antennae sprouting out of the snout.  The Yellow Weevil eats plant matter with mouthparts at the end of its “nose”.  The length of the snout allows it to bore where other insects can’t reach.

yellow-weevil-in-thistle-lixus-pulverulentus

Two Longhorned beetles mate, antennae mingling.  They look a bit like chamois, except their “horns” are flexible and longer than their own bodies.

longhorn-beetles-mating-agapantia-cardui-suturalis

Flowers are for eating – this pollen-consuming jewel beetle (Anthaxia hungarica) is attracted to Compositae . . . .

anthaxia-hungarica-jewel-beetle

. . . . or for lurking in.  A napoleon crab spider, sprinkled with pollen, waits to ambush its prey.  It’s common to see the lifeless form of  a bee hanging from a flower, as the spider sucks it dry.  Sometimes the venom takes a while to work, and the spider clings on, going for a flight with its victim, not knowing where it will land.

napolon-crab-spider-synaema-globosum-covered-in-pollen

The vibrancy of this Spotted Fritillary (Melitaea didyma) reminded me of a tiger. On this windless cloudy day, the butterfly remained motionless.

spotted-fritillary-melitaea-didyma

A walk on the edge: spring

April 25th, 2011 Written by Lucy Brzoska.

On the outskirts of Aiguafreda, the Cingles de Bertí loom up rather dauntingly, but the climb isn’t as bad as it looks, especially if you begin early in the day.  At the side of the track was a Dappled White, keeping perfectly still.  Its green underwing markings are like the mottled pattern of lichen on a rock.

dappled-white-butterfly-underwing-euchloe-crameri

There’s a short cut near the top cutting through dark damp woods where shadows are purple with liverwort.  Then abruptly you emerge, like a prisoner out of an escape tunnel, and look wonderingly over the top of the precipice at the flat table land.

cingles-de-berti-above-aiguafreda

Spring comes at full tilt with a range of sounds not heard since the previous year.  A cuckoo starts up from the valley below.  I can hear a flock of bee eaters somewhere over the fields.  A nightingale sings, still rather tentatively, from deep inside the evergreen oaks.  Then a Tawny owl starts hooting in the bright morning,  disconcertingly, like a clock striking thirteen.

Read the rest of this entry »