The three Honey buzzards soaring over Montjuic Castle run into a swarm of Alpine swifts, and start circling to gain height. When they are specks they continue southwards. They are the most notable of the raptors who take the Catalan coastal route.

Montjuic overflows with birds during autumn migration. Swallows are swooping low over freshly cut grass. The robin population has multiplied. One feisty individual is jostling other birds out of a stand of trees. The woods and parks become incredibly crowded with them: too many robins in the broth, so inevitably some have to keep moving further south or inland.

Another redbreast is in evidence, the Common redstart, far from common in Barcelona, and only glimpsed on spring and autumn passage. Unlike its close relative, the Black redstart, who arrives to spend the winter, its destination is tropical Africa.

Flycatchers – spotted and pied – make protracted stopovers in the city’s parks, breaking up the long haul south. The warm weather ensures plenty of insects so they can fatten up for the tough journey ahead: the sea followed by a desert that’s expanding year by year. Slim, sprightly birds, you notice them as they repeatedly launch themselves to scoop up prey and return to the same perch.

In the woods, firecrests are back, travelling with the tit flocks, always in the lowest branches, and last to move on. There was lots to eat in this holm oak infested with gall midge larvae.
Barcelona, Birds | Tags: autumn bird migration spain, birds in Barcelona park, Common redstarts on migration in Spain, Honey buzzards on migration, Mediterranean bird migration, Pied flycatchers on autumn migration in Spain, robin migration in Mediterranean|
A Praying Mantis was ensconced in the Sticky Fleabane with a bee in its claws. It was delicately eating a leg, still sprinkled with fresh pollen, before neatly detaching a wing. Instead of bright green, like all the mantises I’ve ever seen, this one was a dull khaki colour. As it chewed, its plump, segmented abdomen pulsed in a rippling movement. The whole of the body seemed to be concentrated on digesting the bee.

While watching the Mantis, I could hear the liquid notes of robin song. The woods and parks fill up with migrating robins in the autumn. As the season moves on, they seem to disperse, but for a while the whole of Collserola vibrates with robins tic-ticking from every bush.
Bee eaten, the Mantis fastidiously cleaned its weapons. Suspended between the Sticky Fleabane on one side and gorse on the other, it faced the sky as if lying in a hammock. When I left, it was still absorbed in polishing its spiky forelegs.

Inside the woods, it was warm and humid. After weeks of drought, a typically intense two-day downpour had washed away the summer dust. Seizing the moment, plants were regenerating their leaves. Boar mud-baths were restored. Bark had turned velvety with moss. Stones at the side of the path were covered in lichen: a mass of goblets if you looked close.

A fresh crop of puffballs had sprouted in the middle of the path, tender, fragrant and good to eat. Soon they will age, turn brown and let out a puff of spores. They’ve been given some great names: the Devil’s Snuffbox and Wolf’s Fart.

Coming down the hill at dusk, the Praying Mantis was still in the same spot, eating the last bee of the day.
Collserola, fungi, Insects | Tags: autumn in Spain, autumn walk near Barcelona, Collserola praying mantis, colour of praying mantis, insects in spain, lichen in Mediterranean wood, Mediterranean fungi, Mediterranean insects, praying mantis eats bee, praying mantis grooming, praying mantis in Barcelona, robin migration in Mediterranean|