Articles in ‘Barcelona’
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.
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|
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.
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|
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.
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|
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.
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|
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.
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|
Up in the pine trees, the hectic sawing of the cicadas almost drowns out the parakeets. The sprinklers are on in force, hissing curtains of recycled rain water. When puddles form on the paths, magpies and parakeets waddle over to bathe. A Tree rat emerges from the undergrowth, spruce and bright-eyed, and wants to join in, but is driven off by a magpie. Tail-pecking is a tried and trusted technique, often used on cats.
I get to see my first ever cicada. It seems ludicrous that I’d never seen one before. Fixed quite low on the tree, its body vibrates without pause, long wings curved like sycamore seeds.
Over in the pond, an inevitable Red-eared slider swims ponderously past. Someone’s also introduced shoals of small gold fish – several days hunting for any kingfisher passing by next autumn. Dragonflies sunbathe on the stone slabs round the edge and I try to sneak up for a closer look.
The Broad Scarlet Darter (Crocothemis erythraea) is almost transluscent under the hot sun. It’s saturated with colour, which spills over to the wings, where the veins near the body are like red netting. The amber pterostygma at the tips are like small stained glass windows.
There’s another basking dragonfly – the Blacktailed Skimmer (Orthetrum cancellatum) – stocky and powder blue.
So many male dragonflies – where are the females? I spot two Scarlet Darters coupled up in the wheel position. Once released, the beige-coloured female oviposits pogoing across the water, dangerously oblivious to the group of young mallards. One lunges at her, but she’s away.
Barcelona, Insects, Palau de Pedralbes park | Tags: Barcelona in July, Barcelona nature, Barcelona parks, Black-tailed Skimmer, Broad Scarlet Dragonfly, cicadas in Barcelona, dragonflies in Spain, Mediterranean dragonflies, summer in Barcelona|
It’s been a long time without rain, and the park squad on Montjuic are zealous cutters of encroaching vegetation. Nevertheless, some flowers have survived, their strong colours drawing attention from a distance. Deep pink shows up at the edge of the pine wood: Common Centaury (Centaurium erythraea), a member of the Gentian family. The small, five-petalled flowers, with flamboyant yellow anthers, overlap and cluster together.
The plant is named in honour of Chiron, an unusually cultured Centaur, who stood out from the rest of his rowdy, hard-drinking horse-hoofed kind. Chiron was renowned for his knowledge of medicine, and discovered the wound-healing properties traditionally attributed to Centaury.
Nearby are some round flower heads: Echinops ritro, the Small Globe Thistle. Close up, each ball is composed of tiny rotating lavender-blue petals. The genus name comes from the Greek ekhinos, which means hedgehog or sea urchin.
The Spanish name, Cardo yesquero, refers to the thistle’s use as yesca, dry material that’s easily set alight with a spark.
These fiery flowers were growing at the base of Montjuic, not far from the ring road, in a scrap of dry earth by the pavement. It’s Coreopsis lanceolata, one of many alien species that have escaped from Montjuic’s parks. The Latin name refers to the shape of the seed, based on the Greek koris (bug) and opsis (appearance), and in its native USA the flower goes by the name of Tickseed.
Barcelona, Montjuic, Plants | Tags: alien flowers, Barcelona walks, Cardo yesquero, Centaurium erythraea, Common centaury, Coreopsis lanceolata, Echinops ritro, flowers on Montjuic, Mediterranean wildflowers, small globe thistle, Tickseed|
Sometimes on a June evening Barcelona skies fall strangely silent because of an absence of swifts. They go elsewhere for richer pickings, returning to the concrete sprawl at night. Standing on the Collserola ridge at dusk, I watched hundreds pour down into the city.
I’d started walking late in the afternoon, skirting the small Vallvidrera reservoir, where families picnicked in the shade and dogs nosed among the algae, silencing the legions of frogs. Climbing a steep path, where a meagre stream trickles down, I found Rampion Bellflowers and tiny tangy wild strawberries, which no one else had thought to pick. Iberian Water Frogs (Pelophylax perezi) crouched invisibly in the grass around a small pool. Every time I moved, more would leap into the water and vanish, till it must’ve got quite crowded down there in the mud.
Vallvidrera is posh, but some of the houses near the path were built when this was no man’s land, and the crowing of cockerels mingles with Golden oriole song. A beautiful Comma butterfly (Polygonia c-album) was perched on a leaf, jagged as a jigsaw piece. Perhaps it was the same one I’d seen a few days before, puddling on the wet stones, and giving me a glimpse of the neat white mark on its underwing to which it owes its name.
As grass goes to seed, the slopes behind Sant Pere Martir are turning pale gold, the colour of summer. The bright yellow flowers of broom have nearly gone, and now it’s time for Scabious (Scabiosa atropurpurea). Its frothy purple-pink blooms are everywhere, on waist-high stems, leaves hardly to be seen, and usually with a butterfly attached.
Down in the valley bottom, rabbits rustled among the new crop of fennel that’s already taller than me. An insistent screeching made me think a new exotic bird had arrived in Collserola. Something large and yellow moved in a pine tree - a Golden oriole. Until then I’d only known their catchy whistles, which starlings love to mimic.
Nearly at the top of the ridge, as the sun dropped lower, I stopped to admire the spectacular Illyrian thistles (Onopordum illyricum) that have shot up like spiny candelabra. Hummingbird Hawk moths were zipping among the electric purple flower heads. I’d seen a man come armed with gloves, cut some selected stems and strip them of thorns with a knife. If the Devil grows them in his garden - in Spanish they’re called Cardo del Demonio - it’s because both stems and flower heads are edible.
Beyond the thistles a flock of bee eaters were on a late foraging swoop. The swifts were beginning to return. I noticed a Woodchat shrike (Lanius senator) on a dried up branch of old broom, its chestnut crown lowered as it dealt with its prey. It flew off with something pale in its bill, having left an egg shell spiked on a twig.
It was delicious to lie down on the track and feel the day’s heat stored there, in contrast with the cool evening air, and listen to the sound of swifts searing past. A rabbit popped out of the grass, and promptly jumped back again. A boar emerged, huffed indignantly and kicked up the dust.
Darkness was falling and the swifts were still swarming along the length of the ridge.
Collserola: Guided Walks
Barcelona, Birds, Collserola, amphibians, butterflies | Tags: Barcelona in June, Barcelona walks, Cardo del Demonio, Comma butterfly, Golden oriol, Iberian Water Frog, Illyrian thistle, Marbled white, Mediterranean flora, Polygonia c-album, Scabiosa atropurpurea, Scabious, thistles, vallvidrera, woodchat shrike|
In summer this small stony field overlooking the valley of Sant Just turns into a fennel jungle. In spring it’s a magic carpet of Sweet alyssum and Field marigolds, with scarlet poppies woven in. There’s a zest of fresh fennel as new sprigs sprout among the brittle sticks of last year’s crop. Painted Ladies (Vanessa cardui) spread their wings on the flowers, as flat as mortarboards.
On the grassy slopes nearby, light is glancing off the Cleopatra butterflies (Gonepteryx cleopatra) that float among the Crimson peas. I always hope that one will open up while feeding. They never do, of course, but on this sunny April day the male’s orange blush is visible through translucent wings.
Grey-leaved cistus is in flower everywhere, liberally scattering pink petals. Lavender is blooming alongside the thyme. Appropriately for Easter Monday, I find a Tassle Hyacinth (Muscari comosum). They’re known as Nazarenos in Spanish, named after the cone-headed penitents that march in Easter processions, often in sombre purple gowns.
Down a narrow shady path, periwinkles star the ground, filling every available space. Common Smilax has shiny new leaves and fresh tentacles, itching to cling. Glossy pale green leaves of Black spleenwort (Asplenium adiantum-nigram) loom out of the shadows. A wren scolds loudly, despite a beakful of nesting material.
Collserola: guided walks
Barcelona, Collserola, Plants, butterflies | Tags: Black spleenwort, Cleopatra butterfy, Fennel, Gonepteryx cleopatra, Mediterranean butterflies, Muscari comosum, Pained lady, spring Mediterranean flowers, Tassle hyacinth, Vanessa cardui, walking in Barcelona|
This winter Collserola’s open spaces were white with Sweet Alyssum. In February Dog Violets huddled together in the woods. By the beginning of March the horse paddocks were thickly edged with Wild Cary (Salvia verbeneca) and Field Marigolds (Calendula arvensis): a rich brocade of violet and yellow.
It was a focus for insect activity: lively Dappled White butterflies (Euchloe crameri) and large leaf-like Brimstones (Gonepteryx rhamni), Humming Bird Hawkmoths cruising from flower to flower in a haze of orange wings, bumping into the bees.
In the southern part of Collserola, the maquia is in full bloom and buzz: Tree heath, hung with diminutive white bells and Rosemary, whose dense blue flowers are popular with Cleopatra butterflies and fat Carpenter bees. The occasional bush of Mediterranean gorse has waited till the end of winter to explode in scorching yellow.
It’s time for the rock roses to flower, starting with Cistus albidus, whose fragile, fleeting pink petals soon drift to the ground. In the pine woods, Viper’s bugloss (Echium vulgare) grows at the side of the tracks. “Bugloss” is derived from the Greek word for ox tongue, referring to the rough texture of the bristly stem and leaves. The plant used to be recommended as a cure for snake bites, perhaps because its protruding stamen look like snake tongues.
Grass is flecked with Crimson Pea (Lathyrus clymenum), the flowers floating on barely visible stems. Like the other members of the pea family it has five petals: the prominent purple “banner”, two lilac “wings” folded over the two-petalled “keel”, where the stamens and pistil are kept.
While zigzagging up a sunny south-facing slope, following the disused terraces, I noticed a soft furry plant growing in the shade of some broom. It’s a species of Hound’s Tongue (Cynoglossum cheirifolium) with grey leaves and small wine-red flowers,
Exploring new paths one day, I took a wrong turning and found myself scrabbling through steep woods, the way increasingly blocked by fallen trees. Emerging hot and dishevelled, miles from where I wanted to be, I spotted something on the roadside.
The Giant orchid (Barlia robertiana) is quite a common species but a rarity in Collserola, where orchids are becoming extinct.
Collserola: guided walks
Barcelona, Collserola, Plants, butterflies | Tags: Barlia robertiana, Brimstone, Calendula arvensis, Cistus albidus, crimson pea, Cynoglossum cheirifolium, field marigold, giant orchid, Gonepteryx rhamni, hound's tongue, Lathyrus clymenum, Mediterranean flora, Mediterranean wildflowers, Salvia verbeneca, viper's bugloss, wild cary|
