Articles in ‘butterflies’
You don’t have to look for Two-tailed Pashas, they will find you. A friend had described the exact scene of a very close encounter with this sultan of butterflies last year. It was now late August, the heat had abated slightly, so I headed straight there.
A tiny Praying mantis was a distraction on the way, sitting on top of a seeding Matabou umbel.
When I reached the remote, unvisited location, deep within Collserola, nothing stirred except for a boar, who was trundling through the bushes, before emerging to cross the track and disappearing into an overgrown gully. The habitat was perfect: shrubby open woodland on a high ridge, with lots of strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo – the Pasha’s food plant), so I decided to sit down, eat some breakfast and see what turned up.
Within minutes I’d been spotted. The Pasha flew fast around my head, inspected the camera on my lap, and then stuck its proboscis into my sandwich. It was immediately whipped out again, as if in distaste – uggh! So where’s my rum-soaked rotten banana?
The butterfly then flew up to its vantage point high up in a pine tree, where it remained a while, until giving chase to another Pasha. The rival had staked out an adjoining territory, which it surveyed from a small oak tree.
It sallied down to some faeces in a holly oak bush. It ignored me, absorbed in feeding, using a startlingly red proboscis, which I’ve never seen before (aren’t they usually black?). The beautiful tapestry of the underwings countered the pong of the food matter.
Still trespassing, I was subjected to another prolonged attack. Intensely beating butterfly wings can only tickle, but the determination with which the Pasha repeatedly charged towards me made me want to duck. Then it started sucking at the sweat on my arm, and sat on my shoulder for a while. Who cared where it might’ve perched before.
Their fearless nature and love of alcohol can get the Two-tailed Pashas into trouble. A video on Youtube shot by a holidaymaker somewhere on the Med shows one drinking spilt beer on the table, and then falling to the ground when attempting to fly.
butterflies, Collserola | Tags: Attacked by a butterfly, behaviour of Charaxes jasius, butter, iconic Mediterranean butterfly, largest butterfly in Europe, Mediterranean butterflies, most spectacular butterfly in Europe, territorial behaviour of butterflies, two tailed pasha in Spain, where to see the two tailed pasha|
It’s the month of May and plants are fighting for space. In the dense, overgrown jungle roams a large yellow beast (well, 2-3 cm long). It has the silhouette of an anteater, except for those antennae sprouting out of the snout. The Yellow Weevil eats plant matter with mouthparts at the end of its “nose”. The length of the snout allows it to bore where other insects can’t reach.
Two Longhorned beetles mate, antennae mingling. They look a bit like chamois, except their “horns” are flexible and longer than their own bodies.
Flowers are for eating – this pollen-consuming jewel beetle (Anthaxia hungarica) is attracted to Compositae . . . .
. . . . or for lurking in. A napoleon crab spider, sprinkled with pollen, waits to ambush its prey. It’s common to see the lifeless form of a bee hanging from a flower, as the spider sucks it dry. Sometimes the venom takes a while to work, and the spider clings on, going for a flight with its victim, not knowing where it will land.
The vibrancy of this Spotted Fritillary (Melitaea didyma) reminded me of a tiger. On this windless cloudy day, the butterfly remained motionless.
butterflies, Insects, Spiders | Tags: barcelona insects, insects in spain, large yellow weevils, Longhorn beetles mating, Melitaea didyma, napoleon crab spiders, Spotted fritillary, what insects you can see in Spain in May|
On the outskirts of Aiguafreda, the Cingles de Bertí loom up rather dauntingly, but the climb isn’t as bad as it looks, especially if you begin early in the day. At the side of the track was a Dappled White, keeping perfectly still. Its green underwing markings are like the mottled pattern of lichen on a rock.
There’s a short cut near the top cutting through dark damp woods where shadows are purple with liverwort. Then abruptly you emerge, like a prisoner out of an escape tunnel, and look wonderingly over the top of the precipice at the flat table land.
Spring comes at full tilt with a range of sounds not heard since the previous year. A cuckoo starts up from the valley below. I can hear a flock of bee eaters somewhere over the fields. A nightingale sings, still rather tentatively, from deep inside the evergreen oaks. Then a Tawny owl starts hooting in the bright morning, disconcertingly, like a clock striking thirteen.
Leer
Birds, butterflies, Cingles de Berti | Tags: april walk near Barcelona, birds in april in Spain, ravens in Catalonia, sounds of spring, spring Mediterranean flowers, walking in the Cingles de Berti|
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.
Barcelona, Birds, butterflies, Montjuic | Tags: alpine accentor in spain, autumn bird migration spain, barcelona birdwatching, bird migration in Barcelona, Birding in Barcelona, Painted lady butterfly in November, prunella collaris Barcelona, sparrowhawk in Barcelona, unusual bird sighting|
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|
White tufts were floating up into the stratosphere. It was liberation time for poplar wool, with clouds of the stuff trapped among the grass like studio mist. It was also the time when flowers explode. There were places where one species had rioted to the exclusion of all others. A ditch in Campins was thickly covered in Tufted Vetch and above the field the slope was pink with Snapdragons.
Water was rushing down the varied slopes of Montseny. Where the GR5 climbs out of Campins, streams were pouring into brimming irrigation tanks. Swallows were bathing on the wing, skimming in and out of the water like stones, and then preening on the wire. Buzzard calls were coming from the farmhouse roof: the Montseny starlings do a good impersonation.
The path takes you through endlessly changing habitats. In the sheltered cork oak wood, it almost felt like summer, partly because of the steepness of the track. Among the white rock roses, filaments glittered in the aromatic heat: the micro moths. Hairstreaks (Callophrys rubi) blended with the leaves, both matt green.
The route levels off by open fields, heavily grazed by cows, who often plod along the track in search of more succulent fare. I noticed some austere purple stems among the pines. Some were producing violet flowers, with the familiar orchid shape: it was the Violet Limodore or Violet Bird’s-nest Orchid, a chlorophyll-free saprophyte.
Among the pine needles were pure white Stars of Bethlehem, whose petals have cool green stripes underneath. They’d survived the cows, though their leaves had been bitten off. A froghopper was emerging from the safety of its blob of spit.
I tiptoed through the farmyard, vainly hoping not to wake up the guard dog, who bursts out of his wooden kennel en cue, like an enraged cuckoo in a clock. The outraged snarls fading away, I found a meadow tangled up with a dizzy array of flowers: Tassle hyacinths, euphorbias, daisies, buttercups, plantains, vetch, more Stars of Bethlehem embedded deep down, Crimson Peas, poppies.
If you look closely at a flower in May, you’re almost bound to see a spider – dashing to the other side like a woodpecker round a tree trunk – or a technicolour beetle. My guide to Montseny suggests this hairy individual, with its red and black stripes and turquoise head, is a Trichodes apiarius, or Bee beetle. Its larvae prey on beehives, while the adult visits flowers in search of pollen and small insects.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny, Plants | Tags: GR5 in Montseny, interesting walks near Barcelona, Mediterranean flora, orchids in Montseny, violet bird's nest orchid, walking in Catalonia, walking in Spain in May, walking the GR5|
The woods in Montseny are at their brightest in late March. They’ve still to grow a roof, and the light pours down. We’d wandered off the track, picking a way over rocks buried in last year’s leaves, and sat down among dazzling celandines, next to a stream turned into a torrent by melting snow from Turó de l’Home.
Stephanie had just poured us tea, when a shadow came fluttering, and something settled behind me. Looking round, I was amazed to see a Camberwell Beauty sitting by my elbow. I took a photograph, trying to move as little as possible, which explains the strange angle.
After a winter of hibernation, the rich mahogany wings were threadbare, like old velvet curtains. The pale yellow border looked like fragile parchment. The blue spots, which can be an intense indigo, had also faded. But despite this, it was a magnificent sight in the woods, still only on the verge of spring.
Underneath the wings are dark brown with a pale edge, which helps with identification when the butterfly is flying high in the tree tops.
And then there were four of us: another Camberwell Beauty had arrived and was perched next to us on a branch. The two noticed each other, and went whirling off together.
That day the sun roused many butterflies out into the open. Brimstones were nectaring on dandelions – they had thousands to chose from. A missing piece from its wing couldn’t detract from this stunning Peacock feasting on catkins.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny | Tags: butterflies in Montseny, Camberwell beauty in Spain, Good place to see butterflies in Spain, hibernation of Camberwell Beauty, March butterflies in Spain, Mediterranean butterflies, Nymphalis antiopa in Spain|
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, butterflies, Mammals, Palau de Pedralbes park | 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|
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|
The plan was to walk along the small river that comes down from Montseny to Aiguafreda, marked on the map as the Riera de Pujol. It was a bit disconcerting to find a bone-dry river bed, but a few shallow puddles on the outskirts of Aiguafreda encouraged me to keep walking. A kingfisher hunting by a small dam was an even more hopeful sign.
The sporadic pools were linking up. A waterfall crashed down, where a man stood immersed up to his chin, eyes closed, exulting in the cold water. Up on the dusty track, the sun was scorching hot. Two women from the fire-prevention squad had parked their jeep and were refilling water bottles at the spring. I followed a path that dipped steeply under the trees.
It was like stepping into a church. At the end of the vault of trees there was a flat gravelly bank. Beyond that point the river deepened and levelled off, and the water grew still. On one side were smooth grey rocks, where a dipper had been perching, and the other bank was a tangle of vegetation in full blast of the sun. Boots flung off, I cooled down in the shade, and observed the scene.
There was a general commotion: iridescent damselflies flashed turquoise, clusters of butterflies fed, mated and basked, quantities of spindly water striders littered the water and light dappled on every surface. As usual when you sit in one spot for long, dimensions began shifting. Soon I was looking at a vast wilderness river, flowing by sheer grey cliffs and impenetrable jungle. Then I’d wade out into the canyon and, with water just above my knees, the world would shrink again.
The sunny bank was bustling with butterflies. Dusty pink Hemp-agrimony and a large dome of Wild Angelica were the most popular attractions, attended by a constant crowd of Silver-washed Fritillaries (Argynnis paphia). Any butterfly that fell into the water soon disappeared under wiry clumps of striders.
Most beguiling of all were the Beautiful Demoiselles (Calopteryx virgo), whose name goes straight to the point. The males would display their wings in a flash of dark blue silk, like peacocks.
The females are very metallic, a white spot on each of their four bronze wings, their abdomens a coppery green.
An impish damselfly perched on a twig, as if flown straight out of Dr. Caligari’s cabinet. Though in silhouette, the dark band of its narrow wings revealed it to be a female Copper Demoiselle (Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis).
Engrossed in damselflies, legs pleasantly chilled, a sharp pain made me look down. The mob of water striders were honing in for a nibble.
I retreated to the cool gravelly bank and lay listening to the water tumbling over rocks to fill the canyon. A waspish Large Pincertail (Onychogomphus uncatus – see Forum) settled on a stone. The dipper returned, flying low up-river. From this angle its white breast looked enormous. A Silver-washed Fritillary floated down like an autumn leaf. Occasionally a gust of wind would come up the valley, roaring in the tree tops, making the branches creak. It was a reminder of the hot world out there. It felt good down in the cool green vault.
I began to hear the sound of car doors slamming – post-siesta people coming to stock up with spring water. I walked up-river for a while, rock-hopping, and surprised a sparrowhawk who’d also been quiet down under the trees.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny, Odonata - dragonflies and damselflies | Tags: Argynnis paphia, Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis, Calopteryx virgo, day trip from Barcelona, escaping Barcelona heat, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean damselfies, montseny in august, river walk in Montseny, Silver-washed fritillaries, walks in Montseny|
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 
