Articles in ‘Birds’
Stepping off the Barcelona train in Sant Marti de Centelles, you can smell grass and hear House martin chatter. If you’ve just escaped the coastal fug, you breathe in the summer morning freshness with relief.
In the woods outside the village the cicadas were still asleep and it felt almost spring-like. Back in May these woods were starred with Junquillo Falso (Aphyllanthes monspeliensis). Now the long grass is full of Scabious and a leggy indigo flower – Cupid’s Dart (Catananche caerulea).
Common centaury and oregano cluster about, and the air ripples with butterflies. All day long, every step would disturb clouds of butterflies. Among the Marbled Whites and Ilex Hairstreaks were Provence Chalk-hill Blues (Polyommatus hispana).
The easiest way to breach the cinglera is by the looping dusty track from Sant Marti. As you climb you hear the ravens in constant communication, a mix of low gravelly calls and high-pitched trumpeting, and best of all, the bill knocking.
Cingle means precipice in Catalan, and the Cingles de Berti are a long rippling cliff along one side of the Congost Valley. The slopes are steep and wooded, with layers of bare rock, where a large raven colony is currently roosting.
The slopes come to an abrupt halt on table-top flatlands, where swallows were skimming over stubbly fields. The rocky edge, gilded with stone crop, is partially hidden by a strip of woodland scrub. Paths bring you out onto unexpected balconies, where the land falls away to unfettered views of Montseny on the other side of the valley, and the Pyrenees if the day’s clear.
Large dark brown butterflies were patrolling the path: Great Banded Graylings (Brintesia circe). They were particularly drawn to the Lesser Burdock, nectaring at the thistle-like flowers or sucking the sap. If you dawdled on the overgrown path, the Greylings would treat you as a convenient perch.
There was a moment of drama near the small reservoir. A very large butterfly rushed at me from a tree. After two intense fluttering attacks, targetting the back of my head, it returned to its high perch. Though all over in a flash, I’m pretty sure the ambush had been staged by a Camberwell Beauty.
Red-veined Darters were flying in red and gold tandem. Little Grebes ululated from the reeds and laughter and screams drifted over from the nearby farmhouse – the sounds of an open air swimming pool on a summer’s day.
I found the path that turns through the holm oaks onto a secluded balcony, directly opposite Tagamanent and other Montseny landmarks. Dragonflies were hunting at the edge of the precipice. A Black-tailed Skimmer gorged on a large fly. A kestrel floated past, escorted by House martins. The wild call of buzzards resonated, as two flew in unison. Swifts were flying overhead on a clear path south, leaving us already.
In a recent conversation, looking under rocks had been advocated, so out in a clearing I lifted one at random. It was quite heavy and I had to put it down almost immediately. The image of a pale scorpion lingered though, flat as a zodiac symbol. Back among the butterflies, I found a small Pearly Heath (Coenonympha arcania), with a sparse clarity to its ocelli and a silvery edge to its underwings.
I stopped to watch the ravens before going back downhill. They were gathering in numbers, diving and swerving, and best of all, flipping onto their backs. I saw them assembling by the antennae for a preliminary swirl – a warm up for the major swarm before twilight.
Birds, butterflies, Cingles de Berti, Trip reports | Tags: Cingles de Berti, day trips by train from barcelona, day trips from Barcelona, Mediterranean butterflies, papallones en Catalunya, raven colonies, ravens in Spain, walk with excellent views near Barcelona, walks near Barcelona|
In the intensely developed Empordà plain, the wild and human overlap. Circling storks and patrolling marsh harriers can be observed at the Aiguamolls nature reserve with a background of skydivers, dropped off in batches by droning planes and helicopters. You cross the Muga, which slides placidly to the sea between wooded banks . . .
. . . another step and suddenly Empuriabrava looms into view, a legoland development sprouting at the mouth of the river. Across the plain, traffic roars on congested roads, and electricity pylons clutter the landscape. But in a stroke of genius, by fitting perching sites for the storks and nest boxes for the kestrels, the reserve has appropriated the pylons.
The photo was taken near the Vilaüt lake, away from the coast, where the reserve’s first hide was built. Rising salinity, drought and contamination from fertilizers has affected the quality of the water in recent years, and some species have stopped breeding there. Solutions are being found, including expropriation of land. The view from the hide, looking north west, is pristine.
The path to the Vilaüt hide meanders among rocky outcrops and oaks, in contrast with the water-logged meadows and absolute flatness of the surroundings. Cows graze with their retinues of Cattle egrets. A single Conical orchid (Orchis conica) had emerged on the grass, the flowers like pale strawberry ice cream cupped by leaves. Close up, the petals look like pink bonnets trailing in the current of a stream.
Corn buntings were present in astonishing density. The whole area vibrated with their songs, broadcast from every branch and post.
Four red kites were hunkered down in a tree, resting mid-migration and getting mobbed by a raven. Later that morning I heard a trumpeting directly above me, and saw two cranes circling higher and higher. After reaching the correct altitude, they stretched their necks due north and disappeared over the mountains. I wondered if they were the same pair I’d watched taking a bath at the Cortalet the day before.
In the extensive preening session that followed, with much vigorous wing-shaking that at one point seemed would evolve into a dance, the cranes would regularly lengthen their necks in cautious observation. A cruising marsh harrier set them off trumpeting.
At the end of March, there was an air of expectation around the Cortalet. An early flock of Bee eaters flew overhead. The first nightinglales were still quite tentative and acoustically Cetti’s warblers had few rivals. Walking along the narrow path, I was deafened as one exploded in song next to my ear. Two Long-tailed tits fell fighting out of a tree and continued grappling on the ground, peeping in rage. Blackwinged stilts sorted out their issues over in the flooded meadow. In the lagoons Great crested grebes ceremoniously fanned out their crests.
List of birds seen
Stork, yellow wagtail, skylark, zitting cisticola, black-winged stilt, spoonbill, shoveller, crane, purple heron, grey heron, little egret, cattle egret, great egret, nightingale, cetti’s warbler, goldfinch, great tit, blue tit, long tailed tit, chiffchaff, stonechat, starlings, house sparrow, raven, jackdaw, pheasant, partridge, mute swan, marsh harrier, kestrel, buzzard, red kite, swallow, common swift, alpine swift, kingfisher, great crested grebe, little grebe, teal, garganey, gadwall, shelduck, hoopoe, green woodpecker, great spotted cuckoo, corn bunting, coot, moorhen, scops owl (heard).
Some practical information
- Castelló d’Empúries makes an excellent base for exploring the Aiguamolls reserve on foot: the coastal area around the Cortalet and the inland Vilaüt hide are equidistant and connected by well-marked GR trails.
- On holidays, after 11.00am, the Cortalet site (with its information centre, car park and picnic area) is the preserve of families. So children can enjoy the experience, they’re allowed to shout and run in and out of the trembling hides (most of which are built on stilts). But my only ever sighting of a bittern was precisely on a day like this. The Vilaüt area is usually very peaceful.
Aiguamolls de l'Empordà, Birds, Plants, Trip reports | Tags: birding at Vilaüt, birding in Catalonia, birding in the Mediterranean, information about Aiguamolls de l'emporda, Mediterranean birds, Mediterranean wetland reserve, nature reserves in Catalonia, spring migration in Aiguamolls, walking in the Emporda|
The horticultural guides aren’t exaggerating when they describe Common Borage as a very easily grown plant that likes plenty of sun.
This year, after an abnormally wet winter, it’s even sprouting from the walls of Montjuic castle, having swarmed the slopes below. As borage flowers droop quite heavily, standing underneath them is a perfect way to appreciate their heavenly colour. People add them to salads for a surreal touch of blue.
The flowers have prominent black stamen that form a pointed cage. Like other members of the Borage family, their colour can hover between pink and blue, changing with age as cell sap turns alkaline.
The old walls are ringing with house sparrow chatter, now the breeding season is underway. This male was taking a short break outside his particularly noisy nesting hole, out of which issued an endless stream of chirping.
Round the corner, a familiar flat-topped silhouette appeared on the barbed wire. Generations of hoopoes have been raised in the wall cavity there.
Barcelona, Birds, Montjuic, Plants | Tags: barcelona in the spring, birds in Barcelona, Borago offinalis, Common borage, hoopoes in Barcelona, House sparrows in Spain, Mediterranean wild flowers, spring on Montjuic, wild flowers 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|
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, butterflies, Cordillera Cantabrica, Trip reports | 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
amphibians, Barcelona, Birds, butterflies, Collserola | 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, butterflies, Plants, pre-Pyrenees, Trip reports, 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|
It’s the time of year for unusual sightings in unexpected places. Recent observations recorded on 
Shortly after being born, this year’s brood of Peregrine falcon chicks were stolen from their nest in one of the Sagrada Familia towers. The robbery took place out of range of the web cam installed. Visitors have no access to this tower, but there are always plenty of workers milling around, since the Sagrada Familia is still under construction. Eduard Durany, responsible for monitoring Barcelona’s Peregrine falcons, emphasises the need for better security. Last year suspicious individuals were spotted trying to take food up to the falcons, who fetch a high price on the black market. After the theft, two chicks born in a wildlife recuperation centre were placed in the nest, but sadly the intended foster parents rejected them. See also the report on the ringing of 
After considerable procrastination, 
The areas of Barcelona nearest to the Collserola hills are now quite used to visits from the natural park’s thriving boar population, particularly at the end of summer when the ground is rock-hard and food supplies scarce. But on Saturday night a family of boars was seen trotting through Gràcia, a central barrio of the city, accessible only after crossing an extremely busy ring road. The same family has been observed this August exploring Gaudí’s Güell Park. There’s a 
