Articles in ‘Birds’
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|
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.
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|
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|
Butterflies were everywhere – congregating by the river, fluttering over rippling grass, courting by the road side.
In the heat, they were busy “puddling”, looking for supplementary minerals wherever available, whether from sweaty skin, a metal rucksack zip . . .
. . . or from a pile of dung.
At the top of the valley, some of the terraced fields are still used to grow the knobbly and tasty “bufet” potatoes, shunned by restaurants for being too fiddly to peel. But most are now given up to broom and box, and grazing chamois, who run into the pine woods when disturbed. Flowers that thrive in dry stony ground have divided up the land – Junquillo Falso (Aphyllanthes monspeliensis), White Flax (Linum suffruticosum) or Hoary Rock Rose (Helianthemum oelandicum).
Other flowers were found at the sides of paths and roads in stunning isolation - Sword-leaf and Red Helleborines, and Bee and Woodcock orchids.
Walking down from Alzina d’Alinyà one day, the highest village in the valley, a column of Griffon Vultures formed. Those at the top were mere specks, at some unguessable height, while the lowest were clearly visible. One preened a wing while soaring, and white woolly heads turned to scan the terrain. Further back, we’d passed a comedero, where stripped carcasses lay among heaps of feathers: signs of a competitive and tumultous lunch.
During the day, Cuckoos called continuously up and down the valley, while at three in the pitch-black morning there was the surreal sound of Nightingales through the bathroom window. We found a Black Redstart nest inside a small chapel on a window ledge. Four white eggs lay on the soft downy lining.
Submerged in the hot butterfly-filled tranquility of Alinyà, it was easy to forget the world outside. From the valley rim you had views of the Pyrenees, with a few lingering streaks of snow, the Sierras de Cadì and Boumort, or Coll de Nargo, down by the river Segre. The heat was kept in check by storms, which could be seen forming over the Pyrenees before rumbling south. After the rain, mist would rise – small tufts at first, spun gold by the sun, and then in thick white clouds, mushrooming out of the ravine with incredible speed, and making me run for where I’d left my stuff while I could still find it.
More information on Alinyà here.
Note on Butterflies
After expert help from entomologist JM Sesma I can now identify the mating fritillaries as Mellicta deione, the Provençal Fritillary, and the one on the zip as Melitaea cinxia, the Glanville Fritillary. The butterfly on the dung is a Ringlet, possibly Erebia triaria (Prunner’s Ringlet) but impossible to be sure without a view of its upperside.
Birds, Plants, Trip reports, butterflies, pre-Pyrenees, weather | Tags: Alinya, Catalan pre-Pyrenees, Glanville Fritillary, Melitaea cinxia, Melitaea deione, orchids, Provençal Fritillary, puddling butterflies, vultures, Woodcock orchid|
We were leaving the coast behind, Pyrenean-bound. Back in Barcelona, the trees were wearing light new foliage, and through the train window, we could see spring spreading inland along the River Ter. House martins and swallows swooped over the rain-swollen water, set to be torrential when the thaw reaches the mountains.
Climbing out of Campdevanol, spring receded with every step to an earlier phase. The way was spotted yellow with Cinquefoil (Potentilla neumanniana), unchecked by any competition. The woods were lit up with white and purple anemones (Anemone hepatica). In a sheltered spot, Peacock butterflies (Inachis io) came out with the sun, their rich colours as warming as brandy.
In the Sierra above Montgrony, rising to 2,000 metres, spring would presumably have even less of a foothold. But there were surprises. A strong scent invaded a clearing, its source a small solitary bush of Common Mezereon (Daphne mezereum), all bare branch and florid pink blossom. Horses were hungrily tearing at the short grass where emphatically blue Spring Gentians had sprung up. Higher up, purple crocuses could hardly wait for the patches of snow to melt.
We stood near the top looking over at the high mountains on the French border, white under an iron-grey sky. A line of geese crossed the ridge, heading north.
Wearing every spare layer, we got out our lunch. The silence was broken by a kronk, as two Ravens materialised, settling near by. Sometimes they rose up and circled us, black feathers shining like oil. As soon as we moved on, they came and cleared up the leftovers. The mountains felt very remote that day, but the ravens were a reminder that other people come up and have picnics too.
Large outstretched wings passed above – a Red Kite. Below, we saw the brown backs of Griffon Vultures. The Gombrèn valley is a busy highway for raptors moving in and out of the Cadi-Moixeró area. The day before we’d seen a pair of Egyptian Vultures, a very easterly sighting.
Descending under a shower, we watched the outlines of the hills opposite gradually merge with the clouds, and it was our turn for the sun again.
Birds, Insects, Plants, Pyrenees, Trip reports | Tags: Anemone hepatica, cinquefoil, Common mezereon, Egyptian vulture, Gentiana verna, griffon vulture, Inachis io, Montgrony, Peacock butterfly, Potentilla neumanniana, Ravens, spring, spring gentian, walking in the Pyrenees|
Large numbers of Black redstarts (Phoenicurus ochruruos) move into Barcelona every winter, and some of them settle in Montjuic’s Camí del Mar (Sea Walk), a prime location. Where the castle wall forms a right angle and a palm tree with a fire-blackened trunk reaches the battlements, a handsome male has established his territory.
He’s often to be seen perching on the rubbish bin, scanning the ground for insects. Sometimes he briefly clings to the wall, with a flash of white wing patches, to pick a morsel out of its recesses. His front is dark and sooty. His back is slate grey with a faint hint of blue.
Another Black redstart presides over the grassy slopes by the small fig tree. Grey-brown, it could be a female or a first-winter male.
There are many theories for why the majority of young male Black redstarts stay mouse-brown and only moult into full adult finery in their second autumn. Suggested advantages include less attention from predators or aggressive rival males.
But some of the first-winter males have nearly managed to moult into full adult plumage first time round: they only lack the natty white wing panels, like this individual, who can be seen by the steps leading up to the castle draw bridge.
Regardless of sex or age, all Black redstarts have fiery red tails, which they constantly flick. They have an alert demeanour, bobbing up and down, reminiscent of a robin.
There’s an interesting study of Black redstarts and the phenomenon of delayed plumage maturation here.
Barcelona, Birds, Montjuic | Tags: Birding in Barcelona, birding in Montjuic, birds of barcelona, black redstart plumage, black redstarts in Barcelona, Black redstarts in Spain, Camí del mar, difference between juvenile and adult black redstarts, Phoenicurus ochruruos, winter birds in Catalunya|
Gloria, a life-long resident of Sarrià (once a village, now an area of Barcelona), remembers playing in the groves of carob trees (Ceratonia siliqua) at the foot of Collserola. The pods were used as animal feed, mainly for horses, and she and her friends liked to eat them too. For older people it was a place of bad memories, as during the Spanish civil war prisoners were brought there and executed. The trees have long disappeared and the Barcelona Polytechnic was built on the land.
On the other side of Sant Pere Martir, in the southern end of Collserola, there are still a lot of carob as well as olive and almond trees. They’re a reminder that the “wild” space Barcelona enjoys today was once intensely cultivated and exploited.
In February the gnarled and decrepit almond trees are briefly transformed, and make us think winter’s time is up. Even the ones toppled by the recent gales blossom enthusiastically in their prone positions.
The winds also emptied the carob trees of their dangling black pods, which lie like heaps of rotting bananas on the ground, conveniently for the boars, badgers and other interested passers-by. The olive trees are busy with blackcaps (Sylvia atricapilla), polishing off the last of the fruit, which has kept them going all winter long.
Asparagus hunters dotted about the hills whistle and shout to each other. A blackcap solo comes fluting out from a quiet corner of the valley. Other small signs of change: a patch of violets among the ivy, and the song of a jay, unexpectedly soft, with a beseeching lilt.
Barcelona, Birds, Collserola, Trees | Tags: agricultural past of Collserola, almond tree, blackcap, carob tree, Ceratonia siliqua, February in Barcelona, jay, Mediterranean trees, olive tree, signs of spring, Sylvia atricapilla|
There are two main parts to Pedralbes Park – an ornamental open space, divided by an avenue of lime trees, which leads to a wooded area further back. Bushes of Japanese spindle (Euonymus japonicus) – an oriental evergreen shrub – add symmetry to the triangular lawns. Gardeners find this unfussy and drought-resistant plant very useful, as do robins (Erithacus rubecula), who appreciate its dense cover. In January the berries attract Sardinian warblers (Sylvia melanocephala) at a time when insects are scarce.
It’s not only birds that enjoy the fruit. The Japanese spindle has been trimmed into an extensive hedge, enclosing the lawns. Protracted rustling from within attracted my attention.
Two Black rats (Rattus rattus) were feasting on the orange pulp. They looked clean and wholesome, with their pink paws and pale grey underparts. Their ears are proportionally larger than those of their more urban cousins, the Brown rats, millions of whom are reported to live in Barcelona’s sewers.
Over in the bush near my bench, a robin had appeared in a gap, like a proprietor at the gate, on the lookout for a bit of lunch.
While retrieving a piece of apple, the robin tilted its head skywards, alerting me to the kestrel surveying the park. The parakeets soon drove the predator away.
Barcelona, Birds, Mammals, Palau de Pedralbes park | Tags: Add new tag, birds in Barcelona park, Black rat, Erithacus rubecula, Euonymus japonicus, Japanese spindle, Rattus rattus, robin, Sardinian warbler, sardinian warbler diet, Sylvia melanocephala|
The landscape was overwhelmingly beautiful but unforgiving. After stepping out of the car, my face soon numbed and toes froze. What would we find alive out here?
A steep crag rose out of the snow, facing the sun, gathering warmth. Four sets of binoculars scanned the rocks, and almost immediately we noticed restless flocks of brown-backed birds, briskly foraging among stones and plants, even digging in patches of snow. Up went the telescopes, and you could see orange bills and contrasting black and white tails. Then every so often, a group would sweep off the ridge - a flurry of white birds magnified against the bluest of skies, clearly visible with the naked eye.
The snowfinch (Montifringilla nivalis) is in fact grouped with the sparrows, as suggested by the Spanish name, Gorrion Alpino. Like the urban House sparrow, it’s learnt to take advantage of humans and, since home is above 1500 metres, looks for feeding opportunities at ski stations.
As well as snowfinches we saw Alpine accentors (Prunella collaris) and, very surprisingly, a wallcreeper (Tichodroma muraria), first spotted by sharp-eyed Max. Our eyes were squinting and weeping with the glare, but as Mike said, sunglasses aren’t much use when birdwatching.
All kinds of intriguing tracks patterned the snow, some leading directly towards the snowfinches’ crag. A chamois in a thick winter coat of brown and cream was grazing its way upwards. Already at the top was a fox, surveying the land like a ginger cat.
If we tired of craning up at the rock, we could look the other way towards blue islands – Montserrat, and further away still, Collserola, with the minuscule needle of the Norman Foster tower. The world was in reverse to my normal view from the coast. Sometimes a Griffon vulture would float past or mount a thermal. The snow-muffled silence was broken by the bark of a raven, the powerful light revealing contrasting shades of black on its wings, normally unnoticed. Lower down we’d seen crossbills, just next to the sign indicating the Ruta del Trencapinyes (Route of the Crossbills).
Back down in the valley, in Bagà, trees and rooves were dripping fast in full mid-afternoon thaw and the village cats sunned themselves in a spot freshly cleared of snow. A dipper (Cinclus cinclus) probed the water under the medieval bridge. The crooked shapes of Montserrat filled the horizon as we drove home.
Post script
What does a professional bird guide do when not working? Go bird-watching of course. Stephen Christopher of www.catalanbirdtours.com was intent on photographing the snowfinches, bad weather having thwarted his previous attempt a few days before. The difficult light and restless nature of the birds meant he couldn’t secure a good shot. He did get the following image, however: a Snow bunting (Plectrophenax nivalis), very rarely recorded in Catalunya. Not bad for your day off.
Birds, Mammals, Pyrenees, Trip reports | Tags: alpine accentor, catalan bird tours, chamois, crossbills, dipper, fox, Montifringilla nivalis, Parc Natural del Cadí-Moixeró, Plectrophenax nivalis, Pyrenees birding, snow bunting, Snowfinch, wallcreeper|
Bitterly cold winds keep people out of the park. In a low season atmosphere, the gardeners are cleaning the pond and cutting the hedges. The rows of lime trees are nearly bare, their last leaves flying across the grass. Only the Ginkgos are still in full flare, with a pool of fan-shaped leaves accumulating beneath.
Another source of intense colour, though much more condensed, are the firecrests, plentiful this season, and mixed up with assorted tits and the occasional goldcrest. Firecrests (Regulus ignicapillus) are very tolerant of people: they seem far too busy making inventories of every bush and tree to spare you any attention. You hear their high thin calls and realise you’re surrounded by tiny birds, whirring and hovering. You get quick glimpses of masked eyes, orange crests, and yellowy-green mantles.
Another energetic feeder, a Grey wagtail (Motacilla cinerea), speedwalks on the grass, constantly changing direction. It sallies forth, tail bobbing, then veers to the left before suddenly taking off, only to land again and take a completely new route. Like the firecrest, it’s moved into town for the winter. Its more usual habitat of fast-flowing water is reflected in its Spanish and Catalan names: Lavandera cascadeña and Cuereta torrentera.
The round ornamental hedges have been claimed by robins, who stay vigilant inside their thick cover, planning their next move. Their numbers increase considerably in October, a month when more transient migrants also swell the park’s bird population. This year I saw Pied flycatchers and a kingfisher, as well as a Song thrush digging for worms - a common enough species in other parts but a rare visitor to Pedralbes park.
Going back to the regulars, in this cold season the Monk parakeets (Myiopsitta monachus) look round and well-fed. Watching these versatile feeders happily grazing on grass, you feel they could never go hungry. A group opposite my bench chew their way through endless stalks of the stuff, blinking placidly, as if they find the act of munching on grass calming.
Barcelona, Birds, Palau de Pedralbes park, Trees | Tags: autumn bird migration, barcelona birdwatching, Barcelona in December, Barcelona parks, birds in Barcelona, Firecrests, ginkgo, Grey wagtail, Monk parakeets, Motacilla cinerea, Myiopsitta monachus, Regulus ignicapillus|
