Archive for November, 2010
Written by Lucy Brzoska
First thing in the morning, when it was still dark at street level, you could see the gulls overhead burnished with gold by the rising sun. When I reached the Cami del Mar they were pristine white, soaring in an intensely blue sky.
The sun had cast a blinding sheen on the sea, where cargo ships threatened to combust. The fierce light probed deep inside the crevices of the castle wall, revealing toasting Moorish geckos and Praying Mantis oothecas. A Painted Lady opened its brand new wings, glinting with copper dust, oblivious to the biting wind on the other side of the castle. Only a light breeze ruffled its silky fur.
More Black redstarts have been arriving: some were drinking from the leaking pipe, others perched on the Agave masts. These vanished, to be replaced by something stockier, with long yellow legs. I’ve never seen a Sparrowhawk on Montjuic before, the terrain of cliff-nesting Peregrine falcons and Kestrels. Accompanied by attentive magpies, the small raptor changed perch, and then took off, a soaring silhouette over the yellow cranes in the port.
Further along, an even more unusual sighting. A bird flew up to the castle in an unfamiliar series of shallow swoops. Tawny stipples on the breast, a yellow base to the bill and wings edged with white spots – it was an Alpine Accentor down at sea level. The last time I saw one was in the Pyrenees at about 2,000 metres.
Montjuic is a tempting stopover for birds on migration, a small green island on their coastal route, full of feeding opportunities.The records on www.ornitho.cat this autumn show redwing, siskins, Meadow pipits, Song thrushes, Cirl buntings, Common redstarts, Tree pipits, Subalpine warblers, a hawfinch, skylark and the tail feather of a nightjar.
Written by Lucy Brzoska
Though its woods are mainly evergreen, Collserola is livid with colour in the autumn. Blue-violet Rosemary flowers hum densely with bees, and yellow Mediterranean gorse shines against the rich blue sky of San Martín. As if decorated for Christmas, the Strawberry trees are hung with glowing red and orange fruit and clusters of bell-shaped flowers, creamy white like candles.
I found a Praying Mantis in almost exactly the same spot as last year, lightly clinging to a Narrow-leaved Cistus. It had a contented post-meal air, probably having dined on the bees in the Rosemary bush next door. After cleaning them, it neatly folded its spiky “arms” and remained motionless.
Under the dense Holm oak canopy, in the dark, boar-raked mulch, knots of scarlet tentacles emerge: Latticed Stinkhorns (Clathrus ruber), or in Catalan Guita de Bruixa – “Witch’s Vomit”. A fungal wonder, it attracts flies with its rotten stench to act as spore-dispersers.
From a fallen tree comes the sound of Pekin Robins – or Red-Billed Leiothrix – who are hiding among the dried branches and leaves. This escapee cagebird, native to the jungles of Southern Asia, feels at home in Collserola, with its overgrown gullies and impenetrable tangles of creepers and brambles.
When disturbed they can’t seem to control their curiosity. One by one, Pekin Robins begin emerging from the dead tree to get a closer look at the intruder, all the time scolding vigorously. I got a noisy close-up of coral-red bills, yellow throats and bright black eyes. With a steadily expanding population, their colonisation of other areas in Catalonia is imminent.
Written by Lucy Brzoska
The prohibitively steep slope falls away to the ring road below, where traffic crawls day and night. This is the wildest, most inaccessible side of Montjuic, covered in grass, broom, the occasional stunted pine and mast-like agave cactus. There are contrasting views of the colourful containers stacked in the port and the shining sea beyond.
On a warm, drowsy late October day I was wandering about on the edge of the hill side and noticed a delicate Green Lacewing perched on a stem. I was pushing aside the grass for a better view when suddenly a twisted bit of straw quivered and move away on all sixes.
It was the legendary Cone-head mantis (Empusa pennata). The last time I’d seen something so uncanny and brittle-looking was the skeleton army in Jason and the Argonauts. Close up it seemed wizard-like, with the eyes of an alien.
Coloured like dead plant matter, its camouflage was perfected by long, sharp-angled legs that repeated the criss-cross pattern of surrounding stems. It was a risk to look away even for a second – the diminutive mantis might merge back into the grass, never to be seen again.
Only about 3 cm-long, the creature was a nymph, as evidenced by its curled rutted “tail”. If it survives, it’ll acquire a winged adult form next spring. Other features that distinguish the Cone-head Mantis from the more commonly seen Praying Mantis, whose eggs hatch in spring, is a preference for smaller prey. The females show no penchant for eating their mates.