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Smug parakeets and resourceful magpies

There was a strange crackling sound coming from above. The lime trees were filled with parakeets crunching on crusty pieces of bread, which they held securely in their claws.  They were releasing a fine shower of crumbs, which the pigeons below waddled after.

Magpies observed the scene, frustrated by their own innate caution, which won’t allow them to approach people scattering food for birds.  Instead, they resorted to chasing the smug-looking parakeets to make them drop their booty.

But magpies have their own tricks.  They dare to disappear right inside the litter bins in their search for discarded sandwiches, throwing silver foil about.  They also keep a close eye on occupants of park benches.  The second someone gets up, they parachute down, tails held high, and quickly scour the area.

A long, shimmering tail is a sign of a healthy bird and a desirable mate. Magpies with the most resplendent tails breed earlier and are more successful at rearing young, studies have found. Unusually, this magpie was using its tail as a handy prop while exploring holes in the wall.  In this case, a few worn and dishevelled feathers would only betray its owner’s resourcefulness.

Posted in Barcelona, Birds, Palau de Pedralbes park | Tags: intelligence of magpies, magpie behaviour, monk parakeet behaviour, monk parakeets in Barcelona, monk parakeets lose fear of people, urban birds |

Cold days in the park

The wind cuts like a knife and few brave the park. Benches stand empty and no one picnics on the grass. And strangely, there’s no sound coming out of the pine and cypress trees.  It turns out that the Monk parakeets (Myiopsitta monachus) have come to ground en masse and are foraging on the deserted lawns.

Sometimes you can glimpse a Black rat (Rattus rattus) deep in an ornamental hedge, nibbling on berries.  But when the coast was clear, one cautiously ventured into the open, carefully reading the air for information.

Without the lunch time regulars the litter bins offer lean pickings, but this triumphant Red squirrel had managed to procure a large wedge of bread.  It zipped up the tree before the magpies noticed.

Even in winter, life flickers in an old stone wall, as lizards (Podarcis hispanica) in a variety of sizes and shades come out to catch the noon rays.

When a frayed Speckled Wood butterfly (Pararge aegeria) settled on one of the last leaves, it seemed to be surfing a wave.

Posted in Barcelona, Mammals, Palau de Pedralbes park, butterflies | Tags: Barcelona in the winter, Black rat living in the park, large flock of monk parakeets, Pararge aegeria, red squirrel in Barcelona park, Speckled wood butterfly in December, Wall lizards in the winter |

Zooming in on Montjuic castle(ii): a Montpellier snake

A fierce northerly wind had blown November’s mild mist into space.  But on the south side of Montjuic castle, in early December, it was warm enough for the geckos to materialise from their nooks and for a very small Montpellier snake to go in search of them.

I found it coiled at the foot of the wall, pale brown and very slender, gazing upwards. When it began to negotiate the irregular stones, it revealed a length of only about 30-40 cm.  Montpelliers are Europe’s largest snakes, with adult males reaching 2 metres or more, so this was still a baby.

For the moment it was perfectly suited for life in the castle wall, threading neatly in and out of the crevices, among the snail shells and woodlice.

Despite the scrutiny, the young snake didn’t go into hiding.  Instead it began gathering information by flickering its forked tongue at me, the equivalent of twitching a nose in the air, picking up scent particles.

From a distance the snake was well camouflaged and plain.  Close up, it showed intricate and rhythmic patterns.   The particularly striking markings on the head will soon disappear as the snake grows.  The juvenile Montpellier spotted here a year ago had already lost them.

Varied in size and shape, each scale on a snake’s head is carefully labelled and mapped out for identification.  The Montpellier is distinguished by having two loreal scales, located between the eye and nostril but without touching either.  The narrow shape of its small head means the frontal scale, centre-top, is also long and thin, squashed in by the supraoculars.

Grateful for letting me have such a good look, I left and let the little Montpellier get on with the business of hunting.

Posted in Barcelona, Montjuic, Reptiles | Tags: head markings of Montpellier snake, juvenile Montpellier snake, largest snake in Europe, Malpolon monspessulanus, Montpellier snake identification, snake identification in Spain, snake tongue flickering, snakes in Barcelona |

Zooming in on Montjuic Castle (i)

You barely notice the ants unless they’re lugging some eye-catching, outsize object, such as the remains of a woodlouse.  It was an awkward task, requiring tenacity and strong pincers.

Team effort successfully manoeuvred the crustacean through the crack.  There was barely any flesh on it but woodlice themselves will eat their own or each other’s cast-off cuticles.  The hard, over-lapping armour plating is made of calcium carbonate, a form of calcium we get in dietary supplements.  In any case, ants bring back all kinds of booty to  their galleries, edible or not.

A jumping spider was darting among the busy ants:  Menemerus semilimbatus, a Mediterranean species often found on sunny walls and rocks.  Upside-down, it surveyed me with a fine set of four bright eyes.

The other four are located on the carapace, slightly disconcerting until you get used to it.  Two of them are clearly visible here.

Salticids are renowned for their visual acuity.  They hunt by stealth and pounce with deadly accuracy.  In their courtship dancing, the males often flaunt brightly coloured parts of their body.  Some species have impressive John Travolta disco moves (click on second image down).

Another movement caught my eye and I was just in time to see a soft downy feather disappear through a hole, as an ant whisked it into the depths of the castle wall.  You can only wonder what use the ants would find for it.

Posted in Barcelona, Insects, Montjuic, Spiders | Tags: ants carrying objects, exploring Montjuic castle, jumping spider eyes, jumping spider vision, Mediterranean jumping spiders, Menemerus semilimbatus, wildlife in stone walls |

Mediterranean autumn

A Praying Mantis was ensconced in the Sticky Fleabane with a bee in its claws.  It was delicately eating a leg, still sprinkled with fresh pollen, before neatly detaching a wing.  Instead of bright green, like all the mantises I’ve ever seen, this one was a dull khaki colour.  As it chewed, its plump, segmented abdomen pulsed in a rippling movement.  The whole of the body seemed to be concentrated on digesting the bee.

While watching the Mantis, I could hear the liquid notes of robin song.  The woods and parks fill up with migrating robins in the autumn.  As the season moves on, they seem to disperse, but for a while the whole of Collserola vibrates with robins tic-ticking from every bush.

Bee eaten, the Mantis fastidiously cleaned its weapons.  Suspended between the Sticky Fleabane on one side and gorse on the other, it faced the sky as if lying in a hammock.  When I left, it was still absorbed in polishing its spiky forelegs.

Inside the woods, it was warm and humid.  After weeks of drought, a typically intense two-day downpour had washed away the summer dust. Seizing the moment, plants were regenerating their leaves. Boar mud-baths were restored. Bark had turned velvety with moss.  Stones at the side of the path were covered in lichen: a mass of goblets if you looked close.

A fresh crop of puffballs had sprouted in the middle of the path, tender, fragrant and good to eat.  Soon they will age, turn brown and let out a puff of spores.  They’ve been given some great names: the Devil’s Snuffbox and Wolf’s Fart.

Coming down the hill at dusk, the Praying Mantis was still in the same spot, eating the last bee of the day.

Posted in Collserola, Insects, fungi | Tags: autumn in Spain, autumn walk near Barcelona, Collserola praying mantis, colour of praying mantis, insects in spain, lichen in Mediterranean wood, Mediterranean fungi, Mediterranean insects, praying mantis eats bee, praying mantis grooming, praying mantis in Barcelona, robin migration in Mediterranean |

Wolf spider in Collserola - Hogna radiata

Something scurried across the ground in fits and starts: a spider with a bristling brown back.  I approached and found the bristles were a cargo of spiderlings.  Their mother, a Wolf Spider, was moving her brood in broad daylight along a track in Collserola.

At first I thought it was a Mediterranean Tarantula (Lycosa tarantula), but the radial pattern on the thorax should have led me to Hogna radiata.  Another difference between the two species is that H. radiata doesn’t build a burrow, instead roaming to hunt its prey and using stones for shelter.

Looking at the tightly-packed brood, it was possible to make out rounded bodies and a tangle of spiky legs.

Wolf spiders are dutiful mothers who carry the egg sac attached to their spinnerets, quite a burden for an active hunter.  The abdomen has to be kept raised so the egg sac doesn’t drag on the ground.  The mother spider will sit in the sun to warm the eggs, and when the time is right, chew open the silk case to free her brood.  She’ll wait until all the spiderlings have climbed on board and are clinging to her bristles.

Maternal care doesn’t go as far as feeding the young (as in other species, like the Mothercare spider).  Wolf spiderlings survive on nutrients stored in their abdomens and usually after a week they moult and scatter.

Wolf spiders are among the largest spiders in Europe.  H. radiata is only slightly smaller than the Mediterranean Tarantula, the female measuring up to 2.5 cm long.  Out in the open, the spider struck me as vulnerable and defenceless.  But the view from the front was quite different.

The prominent dark eyes - which gleam in the dark if you go searching for it by torch-light - and strong hairy legs - the sprinting spider pounces on its prey like a wolf - warned me I was facing a formidable hunter.

Wolf spiders have far better eyesight than other spiders, and the eyes are arranged in a distinct pattern: a row of four at the bottom, two on top, and two enormous ones in the middle, all visible from the front.  Look at this fantastic close-up.

Posted in Collserola, Spiders | Tags: biggest spiders in europe, Hogna radiata, largest spiders in europe, largest spiders in Spain, spider identification, spiders in Barcelona, Wolf spider and spiderlings, wolf spider eyes, wolf spider mother |

October heat

The roast chestnut stands were raising the temperature of the city streets while people roasted in the October sun. In the park, where benches in the shade were at a premium, there were other reminders it was officially no longer summer: the rustling of squirrels picking acorns in the oaks, or the engrossed silence of parakeets gorging on berries and seeds. One day the grass was cut, and a flock of swallows paused to dip and dive and feast on the disturbed insects. Pedralbes Park is on the busy Diagonal road, a causeway for migrating hirundines, just like the coast.

A  new sign has appeared at the pond: “Urban diversity protection programme. Amphibian reproduction point.” Hopefully, pond life will be allowed to develop undisturbed and the bright spark who thought to drain and scrub it out mid-May will now be restrained. Sheltering from the heat, I sat down under the Buckthorn tree to watch the legion of Darters† who’d gathered to mate.

One had set up his territory in front and hovered in a haze of just-discernable wing-movement. I was awestruck by this display of energy. It only allowed itself the briefest of rests on the ledge. These breaks would last all of 2 seconds before it zipped off in pursuit of a rival Darter, driving it into another part of the pond. As well as aerial pursuits, there was also a lot of ovipositing going on, the darters still in tandem as the female dipped into the water.

Even more copious, though much less conspicuous, were the Western Willow Spreadwings. They’ve been in the park throughout summer and autumn, barely noticeable except as a spindly insect presence, dangling off leaf tips.

But if one lands nearby you notice their beautiful green and coppery colouring, and their astonishing eyes. Our eyes, set deep in sockets, are half hidden. These orbs are on full display.

On this day there were couples of Spreadwings dangling all over the place, looking for a quiet spot. One pair alighted in the Buckthorn tree. The male clasped the branch and then his long straight abdomen began to fold. He slowly lifted the female, like a dancer raising his partner.

She reciprocated by thrusting her abdomen up in the air, until they were linked together in a jagged heart. While he clung to the branch, she clasped her abdomen. They remained like this, rocking gently from side to side.

†This year I’ve seen 5 Dragonfly species in the park: the Broad Scarlet Darter (Crocothemis erythraea), Blacktailed Skimmer (Orthetrum cancellatum), Red-veined Darter (Sympetrum fonscolombii), Desert Darter (Sympetrum sinaiticum) and the Emperor Dragonfly (Anax imperator).  On this occasion, despite clicking away, I somehow managed to avoid all the best ID angles!  They might have been Common Darters, but a positive ID is impossible.

Posted in Barcelona, Insects, Palau de Pedralbes park, weather | Tags: Barcelona odonata, best park in Barcelona, dragonflies in Barcelona, Lestes viridis, mediterranean fauna, October weather in Barcelona, odonata spain, red squirrels in Barcelona, sex life of damselflies, Western willow spreadwings, wildlife in Barcelona parks |

La Majua and beyond

Two kilometres into the walk, we stop in La Majua where there’s a bar by the bridge.  Hens strut, builders fix pipes, villagers gossip, house martins feed their young, and a man goes back and forth in his madreños, wheeling rocks over the bridge in a barrow.

Not only the old folk wear these practical wooden clogs.  In El Puertu after the rain a strapping youth in track-suit bottoms pounded across the road in his.  They keep your feet warm and dry and raise them out of the dung and mud.

We head north to the Asturian border.  If the walk had a soundtrack, there’d be a crescendo when the track suddenly curves and you’re confronted with the river tumbling down in a series of falls.  The top of the valley is almost sealed off by rocks forming a narrow ravine - La Foz.

There’s an icy spring by the river where people converge for feasts.  A can of beer left in the water for 15 minutes tastes fresh out of the fridge.  I found an Apollo butterfly on a thistle, the first I’d ever seen.  It was so translucent you could see the purple flower through its wings.  It seemed fragile, as if you could blow the pigmentation away like dust.

Though worn around the edges, it was stunningly beautiful.

At the top of the ravine, the way is barred by a stone wall and wooden sticks.  You climb up and around, and you’re in a different world.

You’re cupped inside a circle of mountains.  It’s often cold and inhospitable in here, with an uneasy threat of descending mist that billows out of nowhere and fills up the cirque in an instance.  But today was calm and hot. A short-toed eagle was soaring, white against the blue sky.  The herd of chamois retreated to a slightly higher spot.  We lay on the grass observed by wheatears.  Later, we climbed to the rim of the cup and looked at the lunar landscape beyond.

Posted in Birds, Cordillera Cantabrica, Trip reports, butterflies | Tags: Apollo parnassius, Apollo parnassius in Cordillera cantabrica, holiday in northern Spain, La Majua, madreños, Northern wheatear, walking in the Cordillera Cantabrica, walking in the mountains of Leon and Asturias, walking in the north of Spain |

On the Puerto de Somiedo

On a clear August night, we walked out of the tiny village of El Puertu. The absence of mist was almost uncanny and stars were visible in their millions. All around, out of the darkness, came the sound of bells.

El Puertu (1,486 m) was founded as a summer settlement by Vaqueiros de Alzada, the herders who’d take their animals and possessions up to high pasture as soon as weather permitted. Strong and athletic, Asturian cows are perfectly adapted to their mountain habitat. One day we were startled to see horns charging towards us through the broom, as two vacas roxas galloped down the slope, paused and then ran up hill again. Among other things, visiting the Somiedo natural park is about walking among cows and learning how not to upset their Mastiff guardians.

The best pasture is on the irrigated level ground around the village, green even in late summer.  This land is carefully divided by long dry stone walls, home to a variety of creatures.

I went out with a torch one night, when the habitual mantle of damp mist had settled down on El Puertu, and found myriads of orange-eyed Common toads (Bufo bufo) had come out of the walls to hunt. This toad wasn’t distracted by the scrutiny and snatched up a beetle with its tongue.

Just down the road to the north lies El Peral, another village of Vaqueiros. It’s famous for its well-maintained teitos, traditional stone houses thatched with broom. The only surviving teito in El Puertu is slowly falling down, although the storks remain loyal to it, their nest getting lower each year as the building crumbles. Perched on the border with Leon, El Puertu is one of the few villages in Asturias to have nesting storks.

The presence of bears was tangible in signs and stories, if not sightings. A taxi driver from the nearby valley of Laciana told us that a mother and cubs have approached his village close enough to be seen clearly from the bar.  One theory is that the mother is keeping her young away from the male bears, always a threat, by ranging in areas they would avoid.

The mountain slopes of Somiedo are covered in bilberry bushes and we were told that late August, when the berries are ripe, is a good time to glimpse a sweet-toothed bear out in the open.  No luck on that score, but it was exciting to sit looking down at El Peral, knowing a bear had recently wandered past.

Posted in Cordillera Cantabrica, Trip reports | Tags: bear scat in Asturias, bear signs in Spain, bears in Asturias, bears in Somiedo, common toads in Somiedo, dry stone walls, Somiedo natural park, traditional houses in Asturias, villages in somiedo, walking in Asturias, walking in somiedo natural park, wildlife in the pre-Pyrenees |

Dragonflies out to graze

The beginning of September is dry and dusty in Collserola, after weeks of cloudless skies and hardly a drop of water since early July.  Only the Umbrella Pines look fresh and green.  One of the few flowers to be seen is the Sacred Herb (Verbena officinalis), tiny specks of blue on the tip of long stems.  Thistles are brown and petrified.  A few Corymbose carline thistles still show yellow flower-heads among the blonde grass, where flocks of young dragonflies cling.  They’re this year’s second generation of Red-veined Darters (Sympetrum fonscolombii), out to graze on flies and build up their strength.

They have plasticine-bright colours - yellow abdomens, pale green segments in the thorax and sky-blue eyes.  This young male has just a touch of the deep red of his adult colouring.

The males turn scarlet as they grow, while the females stay yellow.  Females are distinguished by their double black lines, like this one who munches on a fly while clinging to a broom seed pod.

The darters anchor themselves to twigs and stalks, immobile except when the breeze ruffles their wings.  Sometimes they turn their heads in quick, deft movements.  This male’s golden wing veins will soon turn red.

For all things dragon and damsel, it’s well worth visiting Steve Jones’ Cornish Nature web site, where you’ll find a wealth of information and superb photos of species found in Cornwall and Iberia.  Steve loves dragonflies and they’re quite partial to him too.

Posted in Collserola, Insects | Tags: dragonflies in Spain, late summer in Barcelona, libelulas en Collserola, Mediterranean dragonflies, nature in Barcelona, odonata in Spain, Red veined darters, Sympetrum fonscolombii |