Articles in ‘Plants’
There’s a moment in every good firework display when, after a steady build-up, all the remaining ammunition gets simultaneously used up in a single relentless climax, leaving spectators gaping in awe. That’s what’s happening on Collserola’s hill-sides at the moment.
From a distance you can already see the golden broom lighting up the slopes – Thorny (Calicotome spinosa) and Spanish (Spartium junceum). Honeysuckle (Lonicera implexa) weaves into the sky, inflated pink tentacles turning into white flowers. Lavender petals crinkle like crepe paper flames. Rock roses fire off flowers faster than the fragile petals are shed.
All this exuberance has shrunk the paths and you brush your way through, smothered in fragrance and pollen. A Southern white admiral (Limenitis reducta) was resting in the shade. Like a magpie, it looks black and white in flight, but, depending on the light, can suddenly turn deep blue.
Painted Ladies streamed up the hill, as well as Marsh Fritillaries (Euphydryas aurinia), whose markings seem drawn by hand.
All this splendour has a soundtrack of nightingales, singing their extensive repertoire. They stay undercover but don’t object if you stand near by and listen.
Collserola: guided walks
butterflies, Collserola, Plants | Tags: Barcelona walks, broom, Euphydryas aurinia, honeysuckle, lavender, Limenitis reducta, Lonicera implexa, maquia, meadow fritillary, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean flora, southern white admiral, Spartium junceum|
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, butterflies, Collserola, Plants | Tags: Black spleenwort, Cleopatra butterfy, Fennel, Gonepteryx cleopatra, Mediterranean butterflies, Muscari comosum, Pained lady, spring Mediterranean flowers, Tassle hyacinth, Vanessa cardui, walking in Barcelona|
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|
On a path in Collserola I came across a whir of wings near a Wood Spurge (Euphorbia amygdaloides). My camera caught the Hummingbird Hawkmoth (Macroglossum stellatarum) uncoiling its lengthy proboscis to dip into the glistening nectar.
At rest, the moth is a non-descript brown, but in flight you can see its orange hindwings, albeit in a blur. So much movement requires copious quantities of nectar, so they are restless foragers. They are also strong migrators, crossing the Alps to reach central and northern Europe.
Though innately attracted to blue, Hummingbird Hawkmoths soon discover that flowers of other colours can be profitable too, including the inconspicuous yellow-green Wood Spurge. A long proboscis is not really necessary with this plant, which serves nectar up on a plate.
What the Wood Spurge lacks in colour it compensates with elegance. Each cyathium contains four nectar-secreting glands in the shape of half-moons. They encircle the male and female flowers, although young plants are sometimes male only, like this one. The whole structure is about to be repeated as two pale green cyathia are poised to unfurl.
Collserola, Insects, Plants | Tags: Euphorbia amygdaloides, Hummingbird Hawkmoth, Macroglossum stellatarum, Mediterranean flora, Wood spurge|
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, butterflies, Collserola, Plants | 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|
On the rare occasion it snows in Collserola, you have to be quick. It has a tendency to fade before your eyes. When I got out at Mundet metro station, I searched between the buildings for a view of the transformed hills. Along the muddy path, small translucent patches began appearing at ever more regular intervals. The picnic tables were lightly powdered. I remembered summer nights, sitting there listening to crickets and midwife toads.
Higher up, flowering gorse wore the snow like epaulettes. The spiny leaves of holly oak pierced it. Strawberry trees bowed down under it, their leaves protecting the clusters of flowers. On other January days, you can sit on these slopes in a t-shirt.
At the top, among the umbrella pines, Collserola had turned monochrome.
In the woods on the other side it still seemed to be snowing. The air was powdery as trees spilled their loads. Through the mist you could sense a wintry island reflecting distant sunlight: Montseny. Bikes, dogs, boars and people had all been up before me, but there were still clean stretches to print and make that soft crunch, which you can distinctively feel through the soles of your boots, no matter how thick.
A couple had brought their little girl to witness it all. She rolled on the snow like a husky, and repeated with deep satisfaction: “Neu! Neu! Neu!”
Barcelona, Collserola, Plants, weather | Tags: January in Barcelona, mediterranean climate, Mediterranean snow, snow in Barcelona|
On a trip to the Mediterranean, far from their Cantabrian mountain homes, Lisa and Teresa ventured into the big city to meet up with the Iberianature Barcelona contingent. Nick and I then accompanied them for a tour of some of the natural spaces that sustain the metropolitan populace.
The Garraf is an antidote to claustrophobic canyons, which is how Barcelona’s streets sometimes feel. It’s an airy expanse of garrigue-covered hills, open to the shining sea. We didn’t have to go far to find the Two-tailed Pasha (Charaxes jasius), top on Lisa and Teresa’s list along with the Autumn narcissus (Narcissus serotinus). While the Pashas chased each other around the fig trees near the visitors’ centre, Lisa and Teresa stalked them with their cameras.
Meanwhile, Nick and I followed a signposted botanical route, an excellent way to learn some of the plant species typical of the area: Kermes oak, Prickly juniper, and cistus. Nick spotted a solitary white flower, fragile among all the tough leathery leaves and spines. It was photographed and duly forgotten. We also discovered that the Garraf strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo) produce some of the best arbutus cherries anywhere: sweet and acidic, unlike the bland fruit I’d tasted before. They clearly thrive on this sun-soaked limestone terrain.
The lonely white flower did turn out to be an Autumn narcissus, as was discovered much later in the car. It was too late to turn back, but Teresa forgave us and continued to share her extensive knowledge. So we were able to learn that the Tree heath (Erica arborea) familiar to everyone who walks in Collserola only grows in acidic soil, and here is replaced by the purple-flowering Mediterranean heath (Erica multiflora). An insect slipping its black segments across the fallen pine needles turned out to be a Glow worm larva (Lampyris noctiluca), with a voracious appetite for snails. A dirty clump of debris hanging on a guardrail was identified as the case of a Bagworm.
After some debate, we decided there was time for the Llobregat Delta. Back down at sea level and just after the turn-off for the reserve, something white caught our eye: an extensive patch of Autumn Narcissi.
After liberal applications of mosquito repellent and an osprey-sighting, we crossed the bridge into the reserve. Outside the hides, translucent herons fished in sparkling water, sandpipers bathed in the shallows, cattle egrets groomed the horses, kingfishers streaked here and there, and spoonbills tried to keep up with their restless spatula-shaped bills.
There was little time left, but Collserola could not be missed. Up by the Forat del Vent, suitably windy, a flock of Pekin robins (Leiothrix lutea) held our attention with their melodious Blackcap-like song. Unlike other exotic escapees that settle in more urban environments, these South Asian cage birds are breeding in woodlands. They’re being monitored but studies suggest their presence has so far had no harmful effect on the authoctonous species.
We’d run out of daylight. After dropping Nick and I off at the metro, Lisa and Teresa drove away for the next stage of their adventure.
Birds, Garraf, Insects, Llobregat Delta, Plants, Trip reports | Tags: Arbutus unedo, Barcelona birding, Charaxes jasius, Leiothrix lutea, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean flora, Narcissus serotinus, Pekin robin, Strawberry tree, trips near barcelona, Two-tailed pasha|
On my second attempt to walk to the Port de Ratera, I took the GR 11, which goes directly there and beyond. It takes you round the Estany (lake) de Ratera, with its marshy grass and hairy Bog cotton (eriophorum angustifolium).
Further up, the path narrows, and you reach the Estany de les Obagues de Ratera (the Lake on the dark side of the Ratera). Red and white poles stop you getting lost, so the map could’ve stayed folded, but once open, a tempting alternative materialised, leading away from the GR 11 up to some tiny lakes. The contrast with the previous day was brutal. The way was marked by cairns, to guide you over an avalanche of rocks. Going became a little easier as the path crept along a narrow strip of grass skirting a vertical wall. There were traces of chamois everywhere. What took me half an hour of awkward balancing they could skip across in 3 minutes. There was no sign of any lakes.
I reached an outcrop of Mountain pines (Pinus uncinata) and sat in their shade, as if for protection. Unsoftened by vegetation or water, this was the harsh side of the mountains. The dead silence was broken by the cawing of a raven. Back at the Estany de Obagues de Ratera, I noticed a round white spot in a crevice: a dipper (Cinclus cinclus). Scouting around the streams I found some late pink and white orchids (see discussion on forum). There were also Field gentians (Gentianella campestris), discrete but welcome flowers at the end of summer. Small details, but very reassuring after the stark wilderness higher up.
This time I kept to the GR 11, but in the other direction. Instead of taking one of the jeep taxis that wait on the hour at the Sant Maurici lake, I walked back to Espot. The path follows the sunny side of the Escrita river, through meadows and tunnels of hazlenut trees. The dark side is covered by a thick mass of uniform fir forest haunted by capercaillies. The setting sun escaped from the clouds, lighting up the valley and the leaf flurries shed by silver birches. Long shadows were cast eastwards towards the mountains of Andorra.
Aiguestortes and Sant Maurici national park, Mammals, Plants, Pyrenees, Reptiles, Trip reports | Tags: Bog cotton, Eriophorum angustifolium, Estany de les les Obagues de Ratera, Estany de Ratera, Field gentians, Gentianella campestris, National Park of Aigüestortes and Sant Maurici, Pyrenees wildlife, walking in the Pyrenees|
A mountain pass is a chance to look into another world, or at least into the next valley, so with a great choice of trails heading out from the Sant Maurici lake, I decided to walk to the Port de Ratera via the Refugio d’Amitges. The map showed an interesting looking path, an alternative to the more direct jeep track.
The way was unsignposted but quite well marked by cairns, and I only strayed twice, where the path branched. After a summer in sandals, I felt clumsy in heavy boots, stumbling over the rocks and gasping from the sheer steepness.
The path wound through a knot of Mountain pines and dense alpenrose, emerging onto a small plateau. It was a resting place for a narrow river that had just finished cascading down a cliff. It now paused to meander peacefully among grass and flowers, before resuming its turbulent course, crashing down into the Ratera lake, as the Cascada de la Ratera.
It was an arcadian scene at an altitude of 2,200 m. The water was crystal clear. Orange fritillaries floated among heather and harebells still glistening with rain drops after last night’s storm. The distant roar from the waterfall faded in and out with the gusts of wind. A one-horned chamois (Rupicapra pyrenaica) foraged among the boulders on the other side, unperturbed as long as I kept my distance. Perhaps it had found a patch of alpine clover, with its delicious liquorice-flavoured roots.
After some false starts, I located the path on the other side of the stream, and more steep climbing took me to a cluster of small lakes. Tiny frogs clung to stalks of grass, among white starry flowers. Unexpected murmurs came from the rocks, where water trickled unseen.
Besides its proliferation of lakes (272 in all), the park is also renowned for the splintered crests of its mountains, a myriad of crags and needles, the result of freeze-thaw action. The roving clouds fragment the mountains even more, as the sun selectively illuminates a peak or picks out a crevasse. Highly sculpted, yet never static, it’s a landscape that is renewed with every step you take.
I also appreciated the park’s capacity for regeneration in another sense. It bears the weight of visitors lightly – you wouldn’t guess it had just emerged from the busiest month of the year. In the peace of that day, a weathered clothes tag found by a rock, “Boreal UK”, seemed it was lost a decade ago.
In such surroundings, and with so much new flora and fauna to take in, you enter a different time dynamic, disassociated with your watch. I could hardly believe the time – mid-afternoon and, although the Refugio d’Amitges was in sight, the Port de Ratera was still a long way off. I’d try again the following day.
Aiguestortes and Sant Maurici national park, Mammals, Plants, Pyrenees, Trip reports | Tags: Aiguestortes and Sant Maurici national park, alpine clover, Cascada de la Ratera, chamois, Port de Ratera, Pyrenees walking holiday, Rupicapra pyrenaica, trifolium dasphyllum, walking in the Pyrenees, walking the GR 11|
In the narrow valley of Sant Just, sounds carry far. The whack of tennis balls on the courts under the radio transmitter of Sant Pere Màrtir is distinctly heard on the other side. This late August evening a flock of around 50 bee-eaters (Merops apiaster) fill it with their distinctive calls. They’ve congregated to feed on the insects that have risen in frenzied columns after the rain. Insubstantial fare compared to their habitual prey, bees or dragonflies, which are picked off one by one from a vantage point, but available in industrial quantities.
Unlike the swifts, who maintain an intense silence when hunting, bee-eaters communicate constantly. They glide and flutter, with acrobatic flourishes, adding tropical colour to the dried-out end-of-summer valley. I’d love to have included a photograph of their turquoise breasts, their sharply pointed wings and tails, but none came out. However, their whirling supper was impossible to miss.
The first rain in a month has also drawn out scents, dampened the dust, washed off the leaves. In the last phase of summer, one of the few plants in flower is fennel (Foeniculum vulgare), grown tall and wiry, covering the hillsides in delicate yellow filigree. The animal scats along the way are packed with seeds and remains of berries. The path is littered with gnawed pine cones – the culprit, a red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris), gives itself away by shaking a branch overhead.
There’s not much daylight left when the bee-eaters withdraw, their calls gradually getting fainter. Alpine swifts plunge down the valley after them in a whoosh of strength. Soon it’ll be the bats’ turn to feast.
As I’m climbing up to Sant Pere Màrtir, the final outpost of the Collersola massif, the sun slips behind a cloud and then the horizon. I’m shocked to see it’s only 8.30pm – an hour of daylight has been docked since I was last up here. The low grey clouds are tinged violet, and eventually orange, as the city lights come on. Far below, the motorways are strung with golden beads, as cars pour into the city. Many people will be returning from their summer holidays.
I follow the ridge back to Vallvidrera in the dusk, bats flickering close to my head, and the pulsing crickets gaining volume. A family of boars is investigating the car park mirador. A deep grunt and they trot on, followed after a while by a tiny figure, scampering as fast as it can for fear of being left behind. This year’s boarlets have yet to experience the marvels of autumn – acorns without limit, softened earth that’s easy to dig, and muddy puddles to wallow in.
Barcelona, Birds, Collserola, Mammals, Plants | Tags: Barcelona bird watching, Bee-eaters, boars, Merops apiaster, Red squirrel, Sant Just, Sant Pere Màrtir, Sciurus vulgaris, vallvidrera|
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 
