A Mediterranean nature blog

Zooming in on Montjuic (iv): early insects

It was the first really warm day in February and quantities of Hummingbird Hawkmoths (Macroglossum stellatarum) were restlessly hovering in front of the castle wall, as if searching for something. They engage in this mysterious activity every year when they reappear at the end of winter. I spotted one sitting quietly, something apparently rare, but who knows how many others there were, flattened on the wall, blending in with beige-grey wings and just a hint of iridescence.

When a Hummingbird Hawkmoth feeds, it slings in its lengthy proboscis from a distance.  Not so the Carpenter Bee (Xylocopa violacea), who hugs the flower close. These gentle giants were also out in numbers, bumping into each other around the Common Borage. Their wings are brown like old film negatives, until the light catches them and they turn blue. The males signal their sex with orange antennae tips.

Judging by the constant rustle of Chiffchaffs in the small evergreen oaks by the castle, there were plenty of small bugs to feast on.  They were being deftly picked off the leaves or snapped up mid-flight as the restless birds forayed out of the trees to retrieve them.

Natur-al-Andalus has an interesting post on Chiffchaffs, whose hovering skills allow them to exploit the nectar of extensions of introduced South African aloe that bloom in the mild Gibraltan winters.

Posted in Barcelona, Birds, Insects, Montjuic | Tags: barcelona insects, Carpenter bees in Spain, chiffchaff behaviour, chiffchaffs in Spain, Hummingbird Hawkmoth, hummingbird hawkmoth sunbathing, insects flying in February, Macroglossum stellatarum, Xylocopa violacea |

Three winter birds in Barcelona

These three insectivores find winter feeding opportunities in Barcelona’s sheltered urban environment on the Mediterranean coast.  They also share an ability to go about their business undisturbed by human proximity.

White wagtails are a common sight on the pavements and in the parks, careering after their prey.  One theory for the constant tail wagging is that it gives an impression of alertness to potential predators.  This Wagtail, zigzagging along the paths in Pedralbes Park, wears a winter plumage, with white throat and chin, and a faint yellow tinge to the face.  In summer they look much more pied.

By the end of the winter the Black redstarts who’ve moved into town become quite approachable, though finding corners where they can stay aloof from the bustle and noise.  In comparison with the Wagtails, they’re often to be seen static on a vantage point, sharply scanning the vicinity for food.  A beautiful male was sitting on one of the fig trees of Montjuic, smoky grey plumage fluffed out on a crisp cold day.

This Chiffchaff was one of several who had gathered around the park pond, snatching insects while hovering over the water or scooping them off the surrounding wall.  Small and inconspicuous, one regularly comes to the balcony to pick off the tiny bugs that always seem to infest my plants.

Posted in Barcelona, Birds | Tags: Birding in Barcelona, Black redstarts in Spain, chiffchaffs in Spain, common birds you can see in Barcelona, insectivors birds winter, urban birds, White wagtails in winter |

Fungal finds in Collserola

After a week of rainy nights, Collserola is damp and misty. The deciduous oaks bring a golden firelight into the sodden chill woods, and the early morning sunlight and mist entwine in flutes.  Everywhere you hear the winter ching of chaffinches.  Acorns drop, making you look over your shoulder.  The leaves drift down, unhurried, finding their niche on the carpet below.

Miniature flowerpots, covered in moss, have sprouted in the crack of a tree stump.  They’re Fluted Bird’s Nest Fungi (Cyathus striatus), whose spore-filled “eggs”  – or peridioles – are dislodged by raindrops channelled down the inner grooves of the pot.

In the dark undergrowth were clumps of Upright Coral fungi (Ramaria stricta), the colour of dead flesh.  Pallid limbs stretch upwards hoisting the spore away from the woodland floor.

Read the rest of this entry »

Posted in Collserola, fungi | Tags: common woodland fungi, Coral fungus, Cyathus striatus, earth star fungus, Fluted bird's nest fungi, fungus in Spain, Geastrum fimbriatum, how fungi disperse spores, Mediterranean fungi, Ramaria stricta |

Unusual sightings on Montjuic

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.

Posted in 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 |

Autumn colours in Collserola

Though its woods are mainly evergreen, Collserola is livid with colour in the autumn. Blue-violet Rosemary flowers hum densely with bees, and yellow Mediterranean gorse shines against the rich blue sky of San Martín. As if decorated for Christmas, the Strawberry trees are hung with glowing red and orange fruit and clusters of bell-shaped flowers, creamy white like candles.

I found a Praying Mantis in almost exactly the same spot as last year, lightly clinging to a Narrow-leaved Cistus.  It had a contented post-meal air, probably having dined on the bees in the Rosemary bush next door. After cleaning them, it neatly folded its spiky “arms” and remained motionless.

Under the dense Holm oak canopy, in the dark, boar-raked mulch, knots of scarlet tentacles emerge:  Latticed Stinkhorns (Clathrus ruber), or in Catalan Guita de Bruixa – “Witch’s Vomit”. A fungal wonder, it attracts flies with its rotten stench to act as spore-dispersers.

From a fallen tree comes the sound of Pekin Robins – or Red-Billed Leiothrix – who are hiding among the dried branches and leaves. This escapee cagebird, native to the jungles of Southern Asia, feels at home in Collserola, with its overgrown gullies and impenetrable tangles of creepers and brambles.

When disturbed they can’t seem to control their curiosity. One by one, Pekin Robins begin emerging from the dead tree to get a closer look at the intruder, all the time scolding vigorously. I got a noisy close-up of coral-red bills, yellow throats and bright black eyes.   With a steadily expanding population, their colonisation of other areas in Catalonia is imminent.

Posted in Barcelona, Birds, Collserola, fungi, Insects | Tags: autumn in Barcelona, Clathrus ruber in Spain, Leiothrix lutea in Collserola, Leiothrix lutea in Spain, Mantis religiosa Spain, Mediterranean flora, Mediterranean fungi, praying mantis in Barcelona |

Close encounter on Montjuic: a Cone-head Mantis

The prohibitively steep slope falls away to the ring road below, where traffic crawls day and night. This is the wildest, most inaccessible side of Montjuic, covered in grass, broom, the occasional stunted pine and mast-like agave cactus.  There are contrasting views of the colourful containers stacked in the port and the shining sea beyond.

On a warm, drowsy late October day I was wandering about on the edge of the hill side and noticed a delicate Green Lacewing perched on a stem. I was pushing aside the grass for a better view when suddenly a twisted bit of straw quivered and move away on all sixes.

It was the legendary Cone-head mantis (Empusa pennata).  The last time I’d seen something so uncanny and brittle-looking was the skeleton army in Jason and the Argonauts.  Close up it seemed wizard-like, with the eyes of an alien.

Coloured like dead plant matter, its camouflage was perfected by long, sharp-angled legs that repeated the criss-cross pattern of surrounding stems. It was a risk to look away even for a second – the diminutive mantis might merge back into the grass, never to be seen again.

Only about 3 cm-long, the creature was a nymph, as evidenced by its curled rutted “tail”.  If it survives, it’ll acquire a winged adult form next spring.  Other features that distinguish the Cone-head Mantis from the more commonly seen Praying Mantis, whose eggs hatch in spring, is a preference for smaller prey.  The females show no penchant for eating their mates.

Posted in Barcelona, Insects, Montjuic | Tags: cone-head mantis in spain, empusa pennata Barcelona, interesting insects in Barcelona, spectacular insects in Europe |

Tree Frogs in Barcelona

Montjuic, fragmented into a hundred spaces, often comes up with the unexpected.  One of its disused quarries was landscaped into a steeply sloping garden, with carefully tended ornamental flower beds and terraced brick ponds.  Layered with water lilies, these harbour an apparently vast number of Iberian Water frogs (Rana perezi or Pelophylax perezi)), whose massed choruses used to compete with the roar of Espanyol fans when their team still played in the Olympic stadium.

One of the ponds is thick with ribbon-like rushes, and a tall aquatic  plant with large flat leaves.  On one of these I noticed a small green blob, about half the size of my thumb nail, and realised there was a colony of Tree Frogs here too.

The species found in Catalunya is Hyla meridionalis, the Stripeless Mediterranean Tree Frog, but the pronounced black stripes in evidence here were confusing. Could this be an introduced Hyla arborea population?  The distribution of the European or Common Tree Frog in Iberia is generally given as the north, north west and centre.

In fact, the juveniles of both species can have strong black markings, which shrink in adult Stripeless Tree Frogs.  The Common Tree Frog is also fatter.

Feet tucked out of sight, they were clinging to stems and leaves, smooth, pea-green mounds.  Unlike the Water frogs, which come in an infinite variety of green-brown combinations, Tree Frogs are quite uniformly coloured  (though a rare blue morph crops up).  The main variation is their size.

They’re inscrutable, with black stripes masking their eyes, like shadows permanently lying across them. The Water frogs leap almost as soon as you look at one, but these are easier to photograph, trusting in camouflage. When they do move, they reveal elastic-looking legs, and long toes tipped with round sticky pads.

With Tree Frogs imprinted on my mind, I began spotting them everywhere.  Including one snoozing in the sun, camouflaged on a matching leaf, protruding right out of the park’s railings. You can see how the black stripe has faded away on this adult.

The season can betray them, though.

Posted in amphibians, Barcelona, Montjuic | Tags: common frog species in Spain, frogs in Barcelona parks, Hyla meridionalis in Barcelona, Hyla meridionalis in Montjuic, Mediterranean amphibians, Tree frogs in Spain, unusual sights in Barcelona, urban amphibians |

Pyrenean trip report

The end of the Ansó and Hecho Valleys, where Huesca meets Navarra, is one of the least visited corners of the Spanish Pyrenees.  What comes out in these random nature notes is the amazing sense of abundance that you can feel in wild places in August.

Flora

We kept coming across faded irises and it felt a shame to have missed them.  But at 2000 metres and above they were still in bloom. It was breath-taking to find swathes of these flamboyant deep purple flowers spread over the stark mountain, surrounded by bare limestone and a fiercely blue late-August sky.

Another marvel: I associate Granny’s Nightcaps with woodland clearings in spring time, so it was something of a surprise to find them flowering at 2,000 metres on a high rocky pass, among scree slopes and lone twisted pines.  They turned out to be the Pyrenean species, Aquilegia pyrenaica.

Amphibians

In the depths of the Gamueta beech wood, in the pools of a plunging crystalline stream, Pyrenean newts softly padded over the rocks on their chubby feet, with a dreamy look in their eyes.  They’re also known as Pyrenean Brook Salamanders.  (Huesca has some of the best conserved beech woods in Spain.)

Evening walks in the moonlight were accompanied by legions of Common Toads.  At moments, they seemed the most prolific species in the world.  The quiet night was filled with soft plops as they propelled themselves along the track.  When an occasional vehicle approached, it was heartening to see how fast they could suddenly lollop if necessary.

Reptiles

Not a hint of a snake, but lizards abounded.  Certain paths were so crowded with baby wall lizards, you were afraid of treading on one.  One day I was putting on my boot, and it felt very tight in the toe.  I took it off and turned it upside down to give it a shake.  I don’t know who was more startled, me or the lizard who’d taken refuge inside.  He was unsquashed and hid under the skirting board.

Birds

The mountains belonged to the jet-black Alpine Choughs.  Vast flocks would fill the sky and the silent peaks would echo with their calls and the falling stones they dislodged.  Some were cheeky  – they knew the popular peaks where people climb, and circled them for picnic leftovers.

The most exciting bird sighting was on the Collado de Lenito, just above the Hotel Usón (see below), where the bones of a cow lay stripped clean.  We were talking about vultures when two low-flying Lammergeyers overtook us on the way down.  A shepherd thought the cow bones would be too large for them though.

Griffon vultures soaring majestically were a constant.  One was spotted perching opportunistically by a sheep pen.  Inside the barn you could hear lambs bleating, so maybe there were placentas available.

Insects

Like the Choughs, the butterflies took advantage of summer visitors.  A variety of Blues in particular were attracted to mineral-rich hikers.  I had one clamped to my nose, like the sausage in the fairy-tale.  Sunglasses and hands were also popular.

Crowds of Blues puddled by streams, but it often felt just too hot to try and identify them.  The Damon Blue was nicely distinguishable.

Mammals

Giving themselves away by their warning whistles, it was a game to spot the angular features of a marmot frozen among the jumbled rocks.

Sheep

Mountain livestock are usually in admirably good shape, like these sheep, galloping down to drink in the river and return to their pen.

This lot weren’t in the mood for going anywhere and had locked themselves into a wheel.

Landscape

For a non-mountaineer, the Petretxema is a rewarding peak to climb.  Its popularity is clear by the depth of the path, a deep rut in the turf. The final part is like a stone rocket launch into the sky. It was so peaceful at the top, one woman wrapped herself in a scarf and fell asleep.  When I left, there was only her, curled up on the rocks and the Choughs, hopping closer.

In this landscape, the sloping peak on the left is the Petretxema.  Below is the tiny Ibón d’Ansabère, one of the most western lakes of the Pyrenees.

Nice places to stay

The camping site at Zuriza, which also has hostal/mountain-refuge style accomodation, makes a good base for walking at the end of the Ansó valley.  Clientele is mainly Basque, the location is idyllic though the bar/restaurant can be quite hectic at night.  Meals are hearty and midnight curfew respected.

In complete contrast, at the small Hotel Usón tucked away on its own towards the end of the Hecho Valley, the nights are very calm.  There’s a garden to relax in after dinner and watch the moon rise. Owners Imanol and Lucia are very hospitable (and speak some English).   80% of their energy is provided by the sun and wind, and the peppers they grow in their garden make smoke come out of your ears.

Posted in Pyrenees, Trip reports | Tags: escaping the crowds in the Pyrenees, flora and fauna of Pyrenees, marmots in the Pyrenees, Pyrenean Brook Salamanders, quite easy mountain to climb in the Pyrenees, recommended places to stay in Hecho and Anso valleys, vultures in the Pyrenees, walking holiday in the Pyrenees |

Walking on the edge

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.

Posted in 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 |

Collserola gothic: Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis

In July the shadowy halls of Collserola’s shallow, trickling streams are filled with a spooky, fluttering presence. Groups of dark insects flicker in the half-light, or perch on isolated vantage points.

These are the male Copper Demoiselles, staking a claim for a stretch of stream. Their wings are black, and their bodies darkly iridescent, tinged purple like blackberries. When impressing the females, they kink their abdomens, revealing a red under-tip. This has saddled the species with the Latin name Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis

The common name, though, is inspired by the rich coppery tones of the female. She signals from a distance with white spots on sepia-coloured wings.

When a male, from his prominent lookout post, sees a female enter his zone, he’s immediately in attendance, serenading her in semaphore. The hovering wings form a cross, a performance being repeated up and down the stream.

After a successful courtship, the female is whisked up to a twig.

Eggs are deposited in a tangle of pink roots at the water’s edge.

Posted in Barcelona, Collserola, Insects, Odonata - dragonflies and damselflies | Tags: calopteryx haemorrhoidalis collserola, calopteryx mating, copper demoiselles in spain, gothic insects, Mediterranean damselfies, Mediterranean odonata, private life of damselflies, woodland insects |