BirdingInSpain

Photo courtesy of Chris Hardingham

The Black Woodpecker flight call rang out above the noise of the torrent. Brian raised his binoculars just in time to focus on the bird before it disappeared from view into the forest of fir and pine.

“Typical! You take a party of birders half way up the mountains of Ordesa National Park and the bird turns up right next to the car park when you go down to look for Geoffrey Pringles’ damn pills!”

He crossed the wooden bridge over the torrent and started making his way to the van. Two middle-aged tourists crouched near the river bank caught his eye and beckoned him over. They spoke to him in English.

“Hello. You wouldn’t know what to do with this hedgehog, would you? It seems to be sick or injured. It’s breathing but hardly moving.”

Brian looked down at the hedgehog, which effectively seemed to be gently rocking from side to side. He was surprised: the Ordesa valley seemed a cold place for a hedgehog to survive the winter.

“I don’t think there’s much we can do. Just move it to a place where it can rest without coming to too much harm.”

“Not an easy beast to transport. I mean, apart from the spines hedgehogs are usually infested with fleas.”

“Hmm. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Brian made his way to the van, picked up Geoffrey Pringles’ pills from the glove compartment and then reached over and grabbed a fur-lined jacket slung over the back of a seat. He went back to the river bank and coaxed the hedgehog onto the jacket lining. One of the tourists looked at him rather bemused.

“I hope you weren’t planning to wear that jacket today!”

“Not even if it rains, ” Brian answered with a smile.

Brian carefully placed the hedgehog in a small, bushy area off the main path, rolled the jacket up with the lining inside, and crossed the torrent by the wooden bridge once more.

Although the clouds were closing in, the wind had picked up, and the temperature had dropped considerably in the last hour or so, Brian made no move to don the jacket. Instead he puffed his way up the steep path, winding upwards through innumerable hairpin bends, pausing briefly to catch his breath now and then and to spot a bird or two. As he got closer to the treeline he encountered small parties of Citril Finches, Crossbills and a Ring Ouzel hopping around a small, sheltered meadow.

The Black Woodpecker call echoed up from further down the valley, reminding him of his earlier exchange with Geoffrey Pringle, just after they had pulled up in the Park’s car park…

“Whenever I’ve seen Black Woodpecker at Ordesa it’s been along that path”, Brian had told Geoffrey Pringle, pointing to the left.

“Yes, that’s very interesting, but the information I have points us in the other direction, to the right”

“That paths very steep you know,” said Brian.

“Maybe. But that’s where I want us to go,” sentenced Geoffrey Pringle.

So Brian had had to lead the group towards the waterfall along the steepest path. Not an hour had passed, though, before Geoffrey Pringle had something else to say.

“I’m getting quite a headache. And I left my pills in the van.”

“We’ve come up a long way now Geoffrey. Do you really need them?”, asked Michael, Geoffrey Pringle’s closest companion.

“Yes I do. Perhaps Brian could go down and get them. What about it Brian? I’m sure you won’t mind, after all you are the fittest of the group. We’ll meet again at the waterfall.”

The wind was blowing and the air was decidedly chilly when the path evetually levelled off. Brian thrust one hand into a pocket and instinctively tightened his grip on the rolled up jacket with the other. When he reached the foot of the waterfall the group was dotted around seated on rocks, finishing off their packed lunches.

Geoffrey Pringle looked at him.

“Hello. The pills? And is that my jacket you’ve got there rolled into a ball ?”

“Oh yes! I’d almost forgotten I had it. I thought you’d be cold. Here you are.”

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That seems a rather unusual title for what is a photo of a Fritillary, but here is an extract from the chapter of the same name in the book “Flying over the Pyrenees, standing on the plains”.

From our position at the very top of Montsec we should have commanded spectacular views to the south, for miles and miles, over the sierras, the Ebro Valley steppes, and down to the mountains of Tarragona. And what did we have for our pains? Mist! And not even the single, damp Lusitanian Fritillary, which narrowly escaped trampling, was going to make up for it.

Photo courtesy of Chris Hardingham.

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Something I wrote last year, for any Catalan-speaking visitors there may be!

Escriure una petita introducció sobre l’observació dels ocells al Montsec? Com començar? No ho sabia. Així, un dia esplèndid de primavera vaig agafar els prismàtics i vaig fer una visita als camps, bosquets i cims airosos de Montsec, buscant inspiració en la seva solitud i majestuositat.

La veritat és que la cosa no comencava massa bé. Hi havien moltes distraccions: grupets d’abellerols melosos de colors llampants, una guatlla cantant “set-per-vuit”, la seva veu ondulant com el blat en la brisa lleugera. Un destell repentí de colors quan una puput aixecà el vol. La dolça melangia d’un parell de cotolius.

5 espècies de tallarols estaven en plena forma anunciant-se propietaris de les mates, les alzines i els roures. 5 espècies! Silenci!!. Tot aquell xibarri no em deixava pensar.

Així vaig rependre el camí. Lluny cantava un hortolà, orgullós d’haver tornat de l’Africa a la seva terra natal. Després una volada de gralles de bec-vermell van interrompre els meus pensaments amb les seves acrobàcies aèries.

A dalt de la serrelada el pas de voltors era continuo, però vaig fer un esforç sobrehumà per no fer-los cas, al igual que la merla roquera que cantava insistentment al meu darrere. Però, quan un trencalòs va planejar davant meu mirant-me de fit a fit als ulls, aleshores vaig adonar-me’n que els ocells m’havien guanyat la partida.

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Visitors to the BirdingInSpain.com website may have noticed a section called “Hotspot Holidays” (if they haven’t how can they come to Spain and expect to find sandgrouse on the drylands?!). The underlying concept is that there are bird hotspots in northeast Spain where the visiting birder can expect to see a great diversity of birds in a small area (within a 25 kilometre radius of a given centre). The birding areas I have chosen for the web page are Montsec and the Ebro Delta and surrounding mountains.

I’ve been pretty busy over the last month or so leading trips, day excursions and doing bird counts, especially in the area between Lleida and Montsec. I’ve not got round to counting the number of species, but as an example last week in the space of 30 hours I did two bird counts in wetland areas near Lleida and then guided friends around the Alfés drylands. The diversity was quite exciting, with the wetlands yielding birds such as Squacco Heron, Little Bittern, Night Heron, Purple Heron, Kingfisher, Cattle Egret, Golden Oriole, Penduline Tit, Black-winged Stilt, Melodious Warbler, Wryneck, etc. Then on the drylands we saw Lesser Grey Shrike, Roller, Little Bustard, Red-footed Falcon, Bee-eater, Calandra Lark, Red-rumped Swallow, Black Wheatear and another etc.

That got me thinking: instead of a county list, year list or similar, why not start a birding hotspot challenge? The idea would be to draw a circle with a radius of 25 kilometres around the home/workplace and then count the bird species you see in that area over a course of 3 years.

The 3-year idea is so we oldies can take it easier, and don’t have to go into overdrive frantically looking for missing species or a lot of twitching just in case. Of course, there should be no law against twitching in the given area, or the amount of time that one spends birding. However the main focus of the birding hotspot list would be for birders to go about our abnormal lives, making a note of all the birds we see and then to compare lists after 3 years.

Who has the hottest birding hotspot? How many species are on that list? Will anyone take up the challenge?

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This is a news item taken from the Spanish newspaper El Periódico, Friday 30/05/08:

On Thursday 29th May 2008 Carles Casas, ex-president of the basketball Club TDK Manresa, was sentenced to 14 months in prison by the courts of Lleida. He admitted to having used poison to kill animals on a game preserve near Tàrrega, Lleida. However, he can commute the sentence by paying a fine of 2,520 euros.

In 2005 the rural agents of Catalonia discovered that he had killed at least 7 animals using this illegal and indiscriminate method, including protected species such as Wildcat and a number of raptors.

It was not the first time that Casas had tried to poison fauna, as previously in 2003 he was caught in fraganti by the rural guards while in the process of preparing poisoned meat.

Personal comment: Well at last the judicial process has gone the whole way and taken the laws on the protection of fauna seriously enough to sentence someone. Many would have liked to see a harsher sentence, but at least the precedent has been set. So a word of warning to all potential wildlife-bashers: the law does have teeth and is prepared to use them at times.

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I’ve just come back from a conference held at the wonderful Avellanes monastery in Montsec (see recommended accommodation link on the Montsec itineraries of the BirdingInSpain.com website). Centred around initiatives to promote tourism motivated by appreciation of the rich natural and cultural heritage of this relatively unknown area, the speakers  expounded on different subjects including  the completion of the astronomic observatory of Montsec, a strategic cross-frontier plan for historic tourism, and birdwatching (me).

It was a mixed audience, with mayors, local politicians, hoteliers and private entrepreneurs, but there was good feeling all around, or so it seemed to me. I explained the potential of birdwatching tourism for the area, above all its possible contribution to a framework of sustainable tourism. And that this year BirdinginSpain.com has already contributed to the region with 100 hotel nights. Thanks to all those who have made that possible. Although I’m sure you all enjoyed the Little Bustards, Rollers, Black Wheatears, Bonelli’s Eagles and all the other great birds that we have seen in this marvellous birding area of Spain.

It would be sad if such a promising start didn’t gather momentum. It would also be something of a personal failure if the good people of Montsec, currently very receptive to the idea of birding and sustainable tourism, were left with the feeling that it was all just hollow talk. So my request to you, the birding reader: if you are thinking of coming on a birding trip to Spain check out the free Montsec itineraries, and if interested then go one step further and look at the recommended accommodation. There really is no catch. The final choice is up to you, but don’t distrust or ignore an excellent birding option, and the advice of someone who knows a thing or two about Birding in Spain.

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Because of rising house prices in Spain, exacerbated by last year’s mortgage crisis and the slump in the construction trade decent affordable accommodation is getting hard to find. That’s especially so in the countryside and for new arrivals attempting to make themselves a home where they can raise a family. By means of illustration take a look at this notice found hanging on an almond tree in the drylands of Bellmunt:

“Fertile adult female Roller seeking dazzling adult male Roller. Must be home owner, preferably of sizeable hole in old tree, although new nest box also accepted. Ability to catch large insects and lizards and to carry out aerial displays will also be valued, although home ownership is a pre-requisite for breeding consent. Non-territorial male Rollers, and all female Rollers, please abstain.”

Luckily Rollers can still be seen in the drylands of Bellmunt, as well as in other dryland areas around Lleida, although decent nest sites are obviously scarce. Apart from the extent of suitable habitat, this is probably the single most important factor limiting the size of the Roller populations in northeast Spain.

Birders who have visited Extremadura are probably familiar with the nest boxes located on telegraph poles by the side of the road in certain areas. These nest boxes are largely aimed at Rollers and have been very successful. Isn’t it time to follow their example and put up some nest boxes for the Rollers reaching northeast Spain every spring?

This year’s breeding season is well under way, but it’s never too late to plan ahead and prepare to set up some Roller nest boxes before the drylands get plastered with signs like the one above.

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This year Mayday meant a 4-day bank holiday and so a family excursion to the Pyrenees of Aragón was hastily arranged.

Fortunately we were blessed with beautiful sunny weather for the two days of our trip. The old quarter of Aínsa was the designated drinks stop. Now Aínsa is a historical-artistic monument, which was sure to please the wife, but the main reason for stopping here was to show my family the marvellous Eco-museum that I had discovered a couple of years before.

The Ecomuseum in Aínsa was set up and is run by the Fundación para la Conservación del Quebrantahuesos (FCQ) (Lammergeier Conservation Foundation), whose main objective is to promote the conservation of the Lammergeier in the Spanish Pyrenees and beyond.

The building itself is built into the wall of the wonderfully restored old quarters of Aínsa and has a ground level annexe used as a raptor refuge (for injured birds and environmental education). But it is the museum itself, and the extremely well thought out and crafted exhibits, displays and models that impress the most.

We all really loved the mountain bioclimatic strata display (that’s not the official name!) whereby each floor represents the ecosystems of the Pyrenees at different altitudes: the ground floor is the forest floor with Capercaillie, Black Woodpecker, Tengmalm’s Owl and more; the first floor reflects life near the treeline and rock faces - stars here are Wallcreeper, Eagle Owl, Golden Eagle ……; and the upper floor represents the Alpine environment of high peaks with Snow Finch, Alpine Chough, Alpine Accentor, Ptarmigan, etc.

The models were specially commissioned, bird song sounds out as you look, and the experience should not be missed.

My eldest son was so enthused that he got me to buy him a pack of raptor identification cards which he put to very good use over the subsequent days. That in itself made the visit worthwhile.

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There’s been quite an unprecedented fall of Red-footed Falcons in the drylands of Lleida over the last week or so. Reports of these little charmers in groups of from 3 to a dozen birds have come in from the drylands of Balaguer, Bellmunt and Alguaire-Almenar, and if nothing has been said about the drylands of Alfés it’s probably because the local birders are too busy counting them at other sites!

I was leading the Naturetrek Catalonia tour in the area when we unwittingly but gratefully bumped into our first Red-footed Falcon on Monday 12th May. One of the 13 participants pointed out the bird in question, “What’s that bird in the tree over there, Steve?”.

I confess that I didn’t get round to answering him (in the mode of humouring him, thinking to myself “I’d better look at his bird and tell him it’s a Kestrel before he gets narked with me”) for at least 10 minutes. Well, in my defence, it wasn’t easy coping with the barrage of birds that we encountered that morning: a dozen or so male Little Bustards calling, flying and chasing each other, a pair of Hobbys practising their aerobatic skills on a wandering Swallow, countless Calandra Larks trilling and jingling, a sentinel Southern Grey Shrike, even a couple of flyover Black-winged Stilts!

What a surprise I got when I eventually did focus his “kestrel” in my scope! “Crikey! A Red-footed Falcon! Wait a minute! Two in the same tree!”

We went on to see 6 Red-footed Falcons that morning (plus Kestrel, Lesser Kestrel and Hobby) and no fewer than 9 the following day in the drylands of Bellmunt. Adult and subadult males and females, enjoyed by all.

Such encounters are great when you’re out birding, and for me they’re even better when  you’re leading a tour and everyone gets to share in the experience.

Another good thing has also happened this week: it’s rained!

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It was a hot afternoon and two bird photographers and I were sitting at a terrace bar, enjoying a cool beer.

A woman in her fifties sitting alone at the next table looked at us and said, “Anglais?”

“Sorry?” I asked.

“Oh you are English! I’m glad - I’m not very good at speaking Spanish.”

Anglais? Spanish? I thought, but magnanimously let it pass.

“Are you birdwatchers?”, she inquired.

I suspect it was the Swarovski and Leica binoculars and the Canon digital cameras with huge 500mm lenses that led her to assume we were birders.

“Yes. And bird photographers,” I answered.

“Then perhaps you can tell me what kind of eagle is it that my husband and I regularly see flying over our house?”

“Eagles? Hmm, well, the most common species around is the Short-toed Eagle. White on the undersides.”

“Oh no, these are quite dark looking. But we see them regularly you see, sometimes fifty or more together.”

“Fifty? Then they must be vultures,” I explained.

“Oh no, the end of their wings are upturned, so they aren’t vultures.”

Judging from the vigour of her reply that wasn’t a comma, but rather a full-stop. Still, I couldn’t envisage incorporating her criterion for eagle identification “upturned wings= eagle” into my raptor identification classes.

JM, one of my companions, stepped in “Eagles are solitary birds, you rarely see more than 2 or 3 eagles together. They must be vultures.”

The lady pursed her lips, and shook her head, “No, no, not vultures.”

I shrugged, “If she wants them to be eagles, let them be eagles” I said to JM in a whisper.

But JM’s Swedish soul was stirred. Reason had to prevail, “Madam, this morning we have seen 7 species of raptor, and only one of them was an eagle.”

“Oh no, we know the vultures. These were eagles,” she sentenced, shaking her head.

We looked at each other and the only way forward seemed to be to let matters lie. She had obviously decided that our judgement was not to be trusted. Was it my accent?

We bade her farewell as she got on her bicycle to cycle back home down the road towards Balaguer. Just as a dozen vultures were soaring on a thermal over a nearby hilltop. Sorry, not vultures, eagles …they had upturned wing tips.

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