Birdingextremadura

Hawfinches and Lesser Spots

2012-01-28T07:52:00.001+01:00

I returned yesterday from the morning school-run and parked the car in the drive beside our Judas Tree. In the last couple of weeks it has shed its leaves and it will be bare now until Easter when its buds will open to an explosion of deep pink. A quiet short call drew my attention and I looked up. A Hoopoe sat perched above me - that didn't make the noise. And then some movement. Close to the Hoopoe a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker was busy looking for food, tapping away on a dead snag on the tree. I quietly withdrew and entered the house, leaving this sparrow-sized woodpecker in peace to continue foraging. Looking out of the dining room window into our olive orchard, a party of House Sparrows was pecking away on the ground, whilst close by a party of the slightly more robust Spanish Sparrows were doing the same. A couple of Chaffinches were nearby. But dwarfing them all was a splendid male Hawfinch (see John Hawkins' photo), also on the ground, looking for fallen olives. Its rich mustard brown cap contrasted with its grey bull neck, whilst the fascinating curled feathers on its wing were like the blue-black ink that I used when I owned a fountain pen.

Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers and Hawfinches, two of my favourite birds and both with special meaning to me. As a twelve-year old I used to explore the oak woods near Abergavenny in South Wales, on the edge of the Black Mountains. Forty years later I can still vividly remember the morning that I descended a bracken-covered clearing towards a line of trees along a field boundary, spotting some movement high in one of them and my elation in realising I was watching my first Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, a long sought-after species for me. Not far from that spot, that same year, I discovered a place where Hawfinches could be found and I can still picture the first one I saw, typically perched on the top of the tallest tree.

Here in Extremadura both species are not uncommon and I see both in our garden. Hawfinches are almost daily visitors (although harder to see in April when they are breeding), whereas Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers are less regular. However in late winter and early spring I can hear a male drumming most mornings, and sometimes it will do so on the wooden telegraph post beside our front gate and indeed in the same Judas Tree that I saw the bird feeding in. In Extremadura they seem quite associated with cork oak trees and it must be more than a coincidence that close to us are ancient cork oaks, planted along boundary lines.

The pair of White Stork are back on their nest on the village church, whilst the first Barn Swallow was seen over the garden on 22nd January. Yesterday evening as I took Patrick for a seven-a-side football match, a party of Barn Swallows were feeding over the lake in the town park in Trujillo whilst above them my first House Martin of the year headed to the town centre.

Looking ahead to 2012

2012-01-19T21:34:00.000+01:00

I hope it is not too late to wish you all a Happy New Year from the Kelsey family (here pictured in the square in Trujillo last summer, with Patrick proudly carrying his replica of the World Cup after an end of term celebration)! We saw the New Year in having fulfilled a long held promise to make a return visit to our old home in India, celebrating with close friends. We then spent a wonderfully relaxing and refreshing few days near the town of Dehradun in the foothills of the Himalayas, at the house of our dear friends Alpana and Bikram Grewal. The beautiful garden that they have created runs down to a mountain river. There Patrick and I spent every afternoon, watching Common, White-throated and Crested Kingfishers, Brown Dippers and other riverine species. Patrick's goal was to get photographs of as many birds as possible and in particular of kingfishers, and he spent hours, literally, patiently waiting to catch the moment when a kingfisher hovered or dived. Whilst waiting on one occasional, we found a Spotted Forktail foraging at the water's edge and Patrick with new practiced field skills managed to approach it closely to take this excellent photo, which would make anyone proud....and it certainly made me very proud of him.

Bird photography is becoming more and more popular of course as the quality of digital equipment increases. A growing proportion of the people staying with us in Extremadura are interested in photography, at all levels. This ranges from what may be considered opportunistic photography as a complementary activity to the prime objective of watching birds, to those who are coming with a more single-minded mission to obtain photos of a select range of species. For the latter, there are starting to be available here specialist services from people who have permanent hides set up for species like bustards and vultures. I am always happy to give advice for those interested in contracting such services - local regulations are strict, so it is important to make sure that the people offering such facilities have obtained the necessary licences and permits, as well as being careful to avoid disturbance to the birds. I will post a blog next month to give more information on what clients can expect.

We had only just returned from India when I headed off for a short piece of work in Angola (from where I am posting this blog). As I left, the winter landscape in Extremadura was looking worrying dry - we had gone a month without rain to speak of. The weather was gloriously sunny with cloudless skies throughout the Christmas period, but such pleasures come with a price later on. At least I could enjoy during my brief sojourn at home, a walk around the hill. This I aim to do at the very least two times in the heart of winter, counting every bird with the results being sent in to the Spanish Ornithological Society (SEO) for their long-term monitoring of bird populations. Two walks combined this year, a total of four hours beside the olive groves, holm oaks and pasture yielded 1526 individual birds of 43 species with Blackcaps once again the most abundant species (241 individuals counted), followed by Chaffinch with 196. Another typical winter visitor for us here, the European Robin was present with no fewer than 72 birds counted. Year by year these counts, combined across the country, will start to show trends, if any, in the populations of winter birds.

Monfragüe's first visitors

2011-12-11T17:29:00.002+01:00

Everybody who visits Extremadura with an interest in birds, and probably almost all visitors who come for other reasons too (be they cultural, gastronomic, landscape and so on) will visit the Monfragüe National Park at least once during their stay. This 18,000 hectare national park (declared as such in 2007, but previously a "natural park" since 1979) sits within a 100,000 hectare biosphere reserve and is one of the most important breeding areas for birds of prey in Europe. Indeed for the Black Vulture it has one of the largest breeding concentrations in the world with over 300 pairs. There is nowhere else where one can watch breeding vultures (three species), Black Stork, Spanish Imperial Eagle and Eagle Owl at such close quarters. Indeed so extraordinary can the views be, that local birders have nicknamed Monfragüe the "zoo". Tens of thousands of people come to Monfragüe every year specifically to watch birds and it is estimated that the total number of people who visit the park annually runs into hundreds of thousands. It is one of the few places in Extremadura where one is likely to bump into other birders, but the infrastructure and viewing facilities are so good that rarely does it feel crowded.

However, Monfragüe is much more than an amazing birding spot. Its history is very rich with a castle of Arabic origin and the medieval Cardinal's Bridge which acted as a key crossing place of the Tagus river (the longest river in the Iberian peninsular) for traders and livestock drovers travelling between Trujillo and Plasencia. The rocks are some of the oldest in Spain with extraordinary geological features visible. The folds in the rocks, pushing the sandstone strata vertically in places, created fissures and small caves and it is in these that some of the most fascinating aspects of the human presence in Monfragüe can be experienced. There are about 120 sites in the park where there are prehistoric cave paintings. The finest of these (see my photo) are visible in a cave just below the famous castle itself. The photo shows three types of painting superimposed. There is a lower line of rather stick-like figures, one with a plumed head-dress, with a smaller figure on the right of the group - perhaps a child. These date back to the Bronze Age. Immediately above them are other figures, probably painted using finger tips dipped in a paint made from Iron Oxide and eggs, these are thought to be from the Copper Age. However, the upper figure is superimposed onto a painting of an animal (a deer): this goes back about 11,000 years, to the Epipaleolithic. This wonderful and highly-prized collection of rock art can be visited by simply joining one of the guided tours of the cave. All a visitor needs to do is to go the park's information office and book a place on the tour. It costs nothing and usually the guide can speak English, if required. It is so easy that it is remarkable that more visitors do not take the opportunity of seeing these paintings at such close quarters.

The cave is narrow and leaning against one side of the cave to view the rock art on the other, one can imagine how people passing through Monfragüe thousands of years ago, sought refuge in the cave (it is much too small to have been a dwelling place). Whilst in the cave they would have crouched rather like I was doing, back against one wall, reaching out with paint-smeared fingers to the other wall. Over their left shoulders, these ancient visitors to Monfragüe would have looked out onto the undulating tree-covered landscape to the south of the cliff-face, as I was looking out onto the dehesa oak wood pasture today, the view only broken by the shape of a passing Griffon Vulture, gliding past at eye-level.

Dance Imperial

2011-11-14T17:43:00.000+01:00

Sometimes the best comes last. It was a mid-November day with frontal systems bringing bands of overcast weather and gusts of wind, with brief breaks in the cloud with sunshine. It was just the day to be out in wide-open spaces, on the plains, under the vast dome of sky with its ever-changing tones, vast brushstrokes of whites, greys and blues. This was the sort of day when the big birds of prey, like the vultures, could drift across a whole field of view, with barely a flap, cruising rather than soaring. A few skeins of cranes and geese were moving southwest. On the plains themselves we found parties of Great and Little Bustard and a flock of over a hundred Pin-tailed Sandgrouse busy feeding on a short sward of fresh autmun grass.

We left the vehicle and walked east along an ancient drovers' trail, a Cañada Real, established by Royal (= "Real") decree early in Medieval times. For centuries these were the routes taken by the drovers and their herds of cattle or flocks of sheep, like nomadic pastorists bringing their animals off the northern mountains in the autumn, following the landscape as it became green after the October rains to grazing pastures to the south. They retraced their steps in the spring: thousands of animals moving along these strips of common land. This transhumance has almost died out and most of the movement is today by truck, but the trails remain as ribbons of public land, now marked with little granite posts bearing the initials VP ("Via Pecuaria" or Livestock trail). They give wonderful access across plains and into dehesa woodland and it was along one of these we spent the afternoon.

We headed initially across mixed farming land, rough pastures and cereals, but quickly the landscape because dominated by lavander with scattered bushy holm oaks. It was superb open terrain and looked excellent for eagles, indeed as we walked we flushed a couple of Iberian Hares, a much-favoured prey species of Golden Eagle here. However, by now we were being grazed by a belt of heavy rain, which although staying mercifully just to our west, made the sky damp and gloomy - certainly not good eagle weather. The breeze eventually carried the heavy shower onwards and away and gradually a few Griffon Vultures started to rise in the sky. I caught a glimpse of an eagle flying low, perhaps a couple of kilometres away, but soon it was gone. Shafts of late afternoon sunlight penetrated the thick cloud and a rainbow appeared over the path ahead. At that moment I heard a barking call, somewhat higher in tone than a Raven - unmistakeably the sound of a Spanish Imperial Eagle announcing its arrival. It quickly moved on stage, wings held close to its body, and then swooped upwards getting higher and higher, before turning to stoop downwards. This it repeated as its mate arrived from the same direction and we witnessed the sheer joy of the pair sky-dancing, rising and falling in magnificent loops, with sunlight catching their brilliant white leading edges to their wings, with sometimes a backdrop of moody storm clouds, and sometimes against patches of clear blue sky.

It was one of those moments when we, as observers, could feel both immensely privileged and at the same time extraordinarily humble, for to the eagles we must have been just mere earth-tied specks as they proclaimed their dominance of the skies in their courtship dance.

Cranes and Quinces

2011-11-02T10:25:00.001+01:00

It is as if by magic and although it happens every year, it always amazes and surprises. A week ago the landscape was parched yellow, then we had two days of (very belated) rain and the temperatures dropped to the more seasonal low twenties. There has been an utter transformation with the pastures and plains turning emerald green. Looking closely at the ground, every square centimetre is filling with sprouting grass shoots and germinating seedlings. Out on the plains, there are thousands of the delightfully named ephmeral Autumn Snowflake: a tiny snowdrop-like flower on the most slender of reddish-brown stalks, along with the delicate white Narcissus serotinus, a widespread autumn-flowering bulb of understated beauty: six rather narrow white petals with an orange-yellow cup. Despite being early November, a few butterflies are still on the wing: Clouded Yellows, Red Admirals, whilst the Long-tailed Blues and Lang's Short-tailed Blues persist on the Daphne growing in our garden.

Autumn is marked also, of course, by the arrival of the Common Cranes, which in their own way also transform the landscape, or rather soundscape, with their gorgeous and evocative trumpeting becoming an almost constant sound whenever one is close to the their feeding and roosting areas. Perhaps a few days later in arriving than usual this year, and numbers are still building up (the winter peak is not normally reached until late November), there were nevertheless several thousand already looking quite at home on the rice and maize stubble fields just to the south of us. As is normal, some elected to feed in family groups, a pair of adults with one or two brown-headed juveniles, whilst others were in larger flocks. In the distance, lines and broken skeins of cranes moved against a dramatic sky where shafts of sunlght pierced the clouds. In a period of sunshine, a pair of Golden Eagles took to the wing, soaring with buoyant flight against a pale blue sky, whilst a Black Stork made an appearance just minutes later.

Back at home, I completed another autumn task, labelling the thirty jars of quince jam that I had made a few days earlier. Although there were plenty of quinces on the trees this year, many had starting rotting on the tree, so it was a time-consuming task to select suitable specimens and prepare the fruit for jam-making. Interesting, my parents told me that exactly the same had happened to their quinces, growing in a sheltered spot in their garden in north Norfolk, in England. Fascinating. Still, I had enough fruit to make a delicious jam, which will keep our guests happy at breakfast right through winter and spring.

White-rumped Swifts

2011-10-22T13:30:00.000+02:00

I had walked past that tiny cave dozens of times, but that morning with some visitors, I ventured into its mouth. Perhaps there would be some bats and certainly the view across the dehesa woodland pasture was superb. The ground was still parched dusty-yellow, contrasting with the dark green forms of the holm oaks. We stood just inside the entrance and took in the scenery. Suddenly whoooosh! I was aware just of quite a large animal flying past our heads (we could feel the air move) and seemingly disappearing ahead of us. A split-second impression. Was it a bat? Well, it seemed a bit too big and I was sure that I had seen a flash of white. A minute or so later, it swept out again, also just a few centimetres from our heads and this time, although the view was almost as brief, it was obvious that it was a White-rumped Swift.

This is quite a mystery species. Its home is Africa, where it is widespread and common. It was first recorded in Spain in Cadiz province in the late 1960s and was initially misidentifed as Little Swift (which also occurs there), although the two species are actually quite different in appearance. As you can see from the excellent photo by Raymond de Smet, it has a bold white throat, a rather narrow white rump and quite a slender tail, with the fork often held closed, so that the tail looks pointed. It is somewhat smaller than a Common Swift. It was first recorded in Extremadura in 1979. It nests in old Red-rumped Swallow nests, under overhangs on rock faces and sometimes bridges. Whilst a scarce and localised species, it is undoubtedly under-recorded. No one knows how many pairs breed in Extremadura, but we guess at least 50 pairs and probably over a hundred.

To see White-rumped Swift, you need to be looking anytime from late April to early May (they are the latest of our four breeding swift species to arrive here) in rocky gorges or steep river valleys, where there are Red-rumped Swallows. Carefully checking any swift you see, keeping it in view as it twists and turns, waiting to see if the white band on the rump shows. There are often feeding parties of Common Swifts in these sites, so more times than not the swift turns out to be the all dark Common. But the interesting thing about the White-rumped Swifts is that they stay much later here, well into the autumn, long after the Common Swifts have migrated. My encounter in the cave was on 19th October, and the latest date ever recorded in Extremadura is 29th October. So any swift seen in October in such habitat is very likely to be White-rumped (apart from the much larger and differently patterned Alpine Swifts, a few individiuals of which also linger on into October).

Just five minutes after the swift had flown out, in it whooshed again, closely followed by another. This time we were prepared and watched their trajectory. They had in fact flown directly (and amazingly rapidly) up into their nest, just above our heads. An old Red-rumped Swallow nest, it showed the diagnostic little white down feather at its entrance, which for some reason the swifts place there. What was extraordinary to watch was the way they entered such a narrow rocky entrance and then up to the nest: we could see how they folded their wings to squeeze at full speed through the narrowest of gaps. Realising we were so close to the nest, where they probably still had young, we withdraw from the scene as quickly as possible, leaving them in peace. I had never dreamed of ever being as close as this to one of our most enigmatic species.

Autumn drought

2011-10-16T18:22:00.000+02:00

It is now mid-October, but it still feels almost like summer. The temperature is only now starting to edge its way slowly down from daytime maxima of 30 degrees and we have had no rain to speak of (apart from a few showers at the start of September) since June. People are starting to get worried. By now autumn rains should have started, the landscape should have started turning green. Our olive trees are laden with fruit, but the olives are small and are getting wrinkled. If there is not rain over the next few weeks, they will not fatten up and many will fall prematurely. The prospect for the winter olive harvest is not looking good. In my vegetable garden we still have tomatoes, melons and courgettes, but the winter cabbages are disappearing (I think by a mouse which literally pulls them downwards from its burrow) - one day the plant is there, the next day it is gone, with just a little hole showing where the stem had been.

The weird thing is that even though the weather and landscape scream summer, the garden birds are telling me autumn and winter. In the last blog I wrote about the autumn song of Robins. Now their song at dawn and dusk is accompanied by that of wintering Chiffchaffs whilst Black Redstarts (see John Hawkins´ photo) are taking up their winter territories. Yesterday and today I heard a male Lesser Spotted Woodpecker drumming from the top of dead branch just down the lane from the house, with another male drumming in response in the distance - signs again of ensuring that territories are identifed.

I also watched today a very brightly plumaged male Greenfinch having just completed its post-breeding moult. It was in spectacularly pristine condition, a really gorgeous bird with vivid yellow flashes on wings and tail and dove grey wings contrasting strongly with its mossy green body. It was gorging itself on cypress cones, a favourite food here in the garden in the winter for Hawfinches as well. As it was doing that, a Blackcap, a Chiffchaff and a Song Thrush were on the lawn below the tree, all of them winter visitors.

Robins return and autumn butterflies

2011-10-02T15:23:00.001+02:00

There is no more sure sign of autumn here that hearing the liquid song of a Robin breaking into the first glimmers of light at dawn. The last few days of September or start of October is when I will hear this for the first time as a newly arrived Robin establishes its winter territory in the garden. Our Robins are winter visitors, turning up at the start of autumn and staying with us until March. When they are here they seem as fully part of the garden birdlife as our resident species, and as winter visitors they are very common across Extremadura, in gardens, woodland and olive groves.I love to hear their ticking call from the shady undergrowth and their evocative autumn song on a still dawn when there just a glow of red showing over the mountain of Pedro Gómez, 1100 metres high just a few kilometres to the east of us, brings a deep sense of nostalgia.

So we have this fascinating re-arrangement of species at the moment as the seasons change. The weather remains hot and dry, and the garden is alive with butterflies. The impressive Cardinals fly around the nectar sources and glide across the garden as a whole, with an air of entitlement, almost proprietorial, whilst in a far more subdued fashion (until they start a spiralling dispute over food-patch) Long-tailed Blues and Lang's Short-tailed Blue. They are rather similar to each other, with the Long-tailed Blue showing, as you can see on my photo above, a more striped as opposed to blotchy underwing of Lang's Short-tailed (photo below).

Changes on the rice fields

2011-09-30T17:05:00.000+02:00

What a difference a few weeks can make! I spent several hours at the start of the month driving around through areas of rice production and frankly not seeing very much in the way of birds. The crop had not been harvested, although it was starting to turn yellow, so the paddies were densely covered by rice, making it very hard for anything other than White Storks and egrets to reach the water and find delicacies such as crayfish and frogs. Over the past few days however, I have been back. In some of the areas over 50% of the crop has been harvested and the big combines with their caterpillar tracks will be harvesting the rest right through October and even into early November.

Extremadura is one of the top rice-producing areas in Spain and the area of rice production has increased significantly since the 1970s. Far from the coast and with low rainfall (although average rainfall in Extremadura is higher than eastern England), intuitively it does not appear to be the most logical place for such a crop. However, thanks to a massive infrastructure of reservoirs (even though it is land-locked, Extremadura has more "coastline" than other region of Spain - because of the numerous artificial water bodies, as well as large rivers crossing the territory), canels and pipelines, water is moved from storage onto the flat valleys of the Guadiana river and its tributaries in central Extremadura. When conditions have been favourable for the rice-producers and subsidies available, paddies have even been built on terraces, rising on slopes to encroach what was steppe country or dehesa woodland.

It is a classic dilemma for the conservationist. Certainly areas of habitat supporting communities of very special animals and plants have been lost under this intensive agriculture. However, the ricefields have created a new wetland habitat in Extremadura which not only has added considerably to biological diversity, it is now considered to be of international conservation importance. The wet paddies provide wonderful habitat for migrating waders - they are an important stopover for birds like Black-tailed Godwit, as well as being used by tens of thousands of wintering Common Crane and waterfowl.

The farming operations underway at the moment are creating, inadvertedly, the right conditions for these birds. Many of the paddies are left as stubble after harvest. These are the fields where the cranes, geese and duck will be feeding in a few weeks time. Other fields are quickly "ploughed" by tractors using iron frames instead of back wheels. Hundreds of gulls and egrets follow the plough, and indeed today I saw dozens of Yellow Wagtails doing the same. These are the fields that will be visited by waders, through autumn, winter and early spring. In one field I watched today there were over 95 Common Snipe and about 50 Spotted Redshank, as well as small numbers of other waders. The same field two days ago had over 120 Ruff. Overall in two fields I found 16 species of wader, including small parties of Little Stint busy feeding together in glorious autumn sunshine. The ditches between the paddies are superb for wintering Bluethroats. Overall it is one of the best areas to enjoy a winter's birding anywhere in Europe.

The irony now is that there is concern from some conservationists over the possibility that rice production might decline as a result of changes in European agricultural policy. The rice fields in Extremadura are productive both in terms of growing food, as well as creating a habitat which is being exploited by different birds throughout the year. I would not necessarily wish any more dry open country or woodland to be converted to irrigated and flooded land, but I do hope efforts are made to maintain what we have.

September surprises

2011-09-25T12:52:00.000+02:00

September is always a fascinating month with the equinox, the change of season. The month started with some deceptively cool and wet weather but soon reverted to the final blast of summer with very hot and sunny conditions. Now in its final days, the month is slowly recalibrating to autumn - the sky is still a brilliant blue, but there is a refreshing chill at dawn, the nights are getting longer. The changes are marked by the wildlife as well, a month that starts with the skies full of Bee-eaters. As their arrival in spring, so their departure, the Bee-eaters seem to get higher and higher, just passing over, eventually revealing their presence just by their whistled "prrruit", like old-fashioned referee's whistles. It is a time too for surprises, as one never knows what migration wil bring.

Just this week, two Belgium birders staying with us had the amazing good fortune to be at the right place at the right time. Standing out on the nearby Belén plains early in the morning, whilst looking for Great Bustards, they saw an odd-looking bird fly over. Equipped with a fine camera and lens, Raymond De Smet had presence of mind to take a series of photos as the bird passed. One of them is at the top of this posting - it shows a Cream-coloured Courser, a desert species from North Africa and only the second time ever it had been seen in Extremadura (there was one seen twenty years ago). They didn't manage to see where it landed because at that moment they were distracted by a Wild Boar which approached closely. That in itself would have been a highlight of the day!

The following morning, and the morning after that, I too was out on the Belén Plains, with Kevin and Catherine from North Wales. The Cream-coloured Courser is a sandy-coloured bird, which more or less describes the colour at the moment of kilometres and kilometres of suitable habitat on the open plains here...talk about a needle in a haystack! Well we never refound the Courser (it may well have left the area completely by the time we were there)and nor did others out looking for it as well, but it was really special to be out on the plains at first light, watching Stone Curlew, Great Bustards, my first Hen Harrier of the autumn and on the second morning three of our rather grey-looking foxes (see John Hawkin's photo here)romping around at play.

Still there are other surprises. Earlier in the month, I was out at dawn on the plains and from the car settled down to watch three Great Bustards close by. As I watched I saw something I had never seen before. Two of the bustards were juveniles, albeit practically fully grown. The adult bird, a female was pecking at the top of dead thistles. It picked off an item of food (perhaps an insect or a thistle seed) and immediately one of the younger birds ran up and pecked the food from its mother's bill. The adult found another item of food, held her bill still and again the juvenile came forward to take it. I had always assumed that bustard chicks, being precocious (like chickens) find food for themselves as soon as they hatch, and indeed according to the literature they do, although the hen will sometimes pick up food for them when they are small. What surprised me was that such large juveniles were still receiving from the adult. It just demonstrated that you never know when you will seen something new and unexpected, it is a question of observation and curiousity. It may have lacked the excitment of a rarity like the Courser, but there was a thrill at witnessing something new, another insight into the life and behaviour of such emblematic birds.

Look up

2011-09-06T17:05:00.001+02:00

The start of September and the season is turning. Although it is still hot during the day, the dew lies thick on the lawn at dawn and there is a freshness to the sky. The epitome of passage here, a Willow Warbler, is busy feeding in the shrubs. It is a time for late summer chores and for a few hours each morning this week, I have been chopping off the tall shoots that have grown at the base of the olive trees. This leaves the base of the trunk nice and clean which makes laying down the net for harvesting the olives during the winter a much easier endeavour. It probably also ensures that tree pushes its resources into the olives themselves, or so folk will say. They are certainly fattening up, helped a lot by a couple of heavy rain storms late last week. As far as birding is concerned, this is the time for passage migrants and in many respects I may as well be spending the time in the garden as any where else. Indeed, I spent a fruitless morning last week in the rice growing area, looking for muddy fields which would attract waders, but all had dense rice crops, maize or tomatoes. Even a pool which usually has been a wonderful spot in September was almost dry this year. My compensation was seeing dozens of Lesser Kestrels on the wires crossing the open plains - perhaps some were local birds, but I suspect that many had come from further afield.

No, the garden is the place to be...looking up between olive trees I watched two Black Stork circling above whilst minutes later a fine adult Egyptian Vulture drifted over, followed shortly afterwards by another. I have seen a female Montagu's Harrier and sometimes there have been three Booted Eagles and a couple of Short-toed Eagles in the sky together. Like the Lesser Kestrels, are they local birds or passage migrants? Noisy parties of Bee-eaters are also passing over, as are groups of Alpine Swift. It is a fascinating time of year. I have just finished reading David Lindo's book on the Urban Birder, where he shares the advice to look-up - whether in town or country, or in my case this week the garden..otherwise you have no idea what you are missing!

Extremadura in the British Birdfair

2011-08-26T09:23:00.001+02:00

We are over in England at the moment and last weekend took part in the team of colleagues from Extremadura to promote the region on the Extremadura stand at the British Birdfair in Rutland. For those of you who have never been to the Birdfair, it has been likened to a Glastonbury Festival for birders. Indeed, a friend Peter Dunne from New Jersey Audubon Society told me at Rutland, that after revisiting the Birdfair after a ten year absence he was struck how it had changed from being like a trade fair, to becoming a real Festival (or fair in the traditional sense of the word). Yes certainly business is done, contacts are made, books are launched and products are bought, but key to its success is that people have a great time, it is a really enjoyable gathering. As well as the hundreds of stands of exhibitors promoting great birding destinations, equipment, artwork, photos, local and international charities, there are lectures and events, celebrity happenings and activities for children. What is critical to its sustainability, longevity(this year's Birdfair is the 23rd) and indeed contributing to its unique character is the volunteerism. In 2010 no fewer than 280 volunteers were involved (amazingly for an event that attracts well over 20,000 people and 350 exhibitors, there is only one full-time staffer and not a cent comes from government subsidy). The volunteers save the Birdfair £50,000 in labour costs, all of which goes towards the quarter of a million pounds or so that the Birdfair contributes annually to international conservation. This year the conservation theme was the migration flyways linking Europe and Africa. Because all proceeds go to conservation, combined with the volunteer spirit, there is a real sense of family and goodwill - from the visiting public contributing through entrance fees to the loyalty and support from exhibitors: we all feel part of something big and hugely worthwhile.

It is also like a reunion of friends and family. I meet people I have known for over thirty years and it is always a joy whilst on the Extremadura stand to catch up with people who have stayed at our house El Recuerdo over the years. One shares the celebration of friends as books get launched - David Lindo's wonderful book on becoming an Urban Birder is thoroughly recommended.

Extremadura has had a stand at the Birdfair longer than any other Spanish region. I work full-time on the stand along with my colleague Godfried and a representative from the Extremadura Tourist Board, this year Karissa. We are in the photo above with Tim Appleton (co-organiser of the Birdfair on our stand). We are always accompanied by friends (other guides and guesthouse owners) who come to promote their businesses.

Post Birdfair, Claudia, Patrick and I are having a short break in Cley, where my parents live at North Norfolk. It gives me a chance to see some birds that we do not get in Extremadura, as well as helping me track the changes happening to British birds. It is almost twenty years since we moved from Britain and whilst British-based birders now have gotten used to seeing Little Egrets on the Norfolk coast and elsewhere, I still double-take when I see one fly over my path in Cley (thirty years ago my friends I raced across the county to see a Little Egret). A flock of Spoonbills is now a regular sight here. However, I also reflected whilst watching a fine male Red-backed Shrike yesterday that this is now extinct as a regular breeding bird in the UK, whereas on my first visit to the RSPB reserve of Minsmere in the late 1960s, there were pairs nesting beside the carpark there and along the footpath to the beach.

Nightingale repertoire and summer fiestas

2011-07-24T14:05:00.000+02:00

It is the height of summer here. It has not rained for weeks and although this month has so far been a lot fresher than is normal for July, the temperature in the afternoon is still getting above 30 degrees. It is the time for taking things at a slower pace and indeed everyone and everything seems to be following suit. There is a silence across the towns and villages in the afternoon as people stay indoors and enjoy a siesta. Swallows and House Martins sunbathe on the south-facing ledge of our house, adopting extraordinary postures with wings held up and heads tilted. They are only disturbed by a passing Booted Eagle, which causes them to get airbourne and start mobbing the raptor. The only sound comes from the greenery in the garden, where thanks to watering, there is damp soil in the shrubby shade. From the shadows come distinctive but very different sounds - a croak which sounds as if it must come from a frog (and we do have plenty of those) and a squeak which must be from a rusty bicycle but it is coming from the opposite direction to the lane. There they go again and a slight movement betrays the creature responsible (and indeed, the two sounds come from the same source). A flicker, a tail cocked-up and then showing rufous as it flies into even deeper shadows. It is a Nightingale. And just to prove it there is the briefest snatch of sound which recalls the full, liquid notes of its song. I am happy to say that Nightingales are common here and by the beginning of April I expect to hear the first Nightingales singing in the village as I get up before sun rise. We have them in the garden, sometimes singing right next to the house. Last year one sang under our bedroom window for most of the night. Now they have stopped full song and finished breeding. We have an adult and a juvenile spending their post-breeding period in the garden close to the house. They lurk in the shadows, only coming out to hop on the lawn at first light or chase sparrows away from favourite feeding areas. There are also juvenile Blue Tits, Greenfinches, Goldfinches and Hawfinches around, whilst our two pairs of Barn Swallows have successfully reared their young (one already with two broods completed). This year for the first time a pair of Moorhen appeared on our pond (which is not much bigger than our kitchen). They remained amazingly elusive, keeping under the cover of the bramble and quince bankside vegetation, with only the occasional call note revealing their presence. However, my suspicions were confirmed a couple of days ago when I caught glimpses of two chicks that they had stayed to breed here.

One by one over the summer, the towns and villages here will be celebrating their fiestas. Our hamlet (Pago de San Clemente) is one of the first with the Fiestas de San Juan in late June. This year the party lasted two nights with music and dancing until dawn, with the village then getting together in the shade of trees infront of the church to have a charity auction of local produce. The cheeses, hams, chorizos, tortillas and wine that people bid for are then shared by all, creating a wonderful event that brings all together to enjoy the typical delicacies of the area.

Bouncing bustards

2011-07-07T16:30:00.000+02:00

It was late May and I was taking our guests KY Shum and his partner Cathy Chan from Hong Kong into the field for their last morning in Extremadura. KY had sent me in advance a list of species that they were particularly interested in photographing. One of them was the Little Bustard. I knew of a place about twenty minutes from home where a male Little Bustard was regularly coming out onto a track to display. If we were there at first light, KY should be able to get some pictures. As we approached the track in my vehicle there was no sign of the bird. We stopped and I carefully checked the area. Almost immediately I found it, not on the track but close by in the yellow-dry steppe grasses. KY carefully got out of the vehicle and stood behind the gate at the entrance of the track, with the car behind him, so his outline was invisible. It was perfect early morning light and no sign of heat shimmer. As we watched, the Little Bustard threw its head back as it called, delivering a rather far-carrying sound, like someone blowing a raspberry. Its intention was to attract females with this show. As if rude sounds were not enough, it then jumped up into the air, like a bounce really. As it did its striking black and white neck feathers were erected, giving it almost a cobra-like hood and the largely white flight feathers also added to the visual impact. KY got his photo - a wonderful study of Little Bustard in full display.

Despite the tall vegetation, late spring is one of the best times of the year to see Little Bustards. This is because from late April to mid-May, males are at the apex of their display period and they want to be as highly visible as possible in order to be found and chosen by the highly selective females. They grow their boldly patterned neck plumage, stand on mounds, boulders or anywhere that will enable their heads and necks to stick up above the level of the tall grasses. They call almost incessantly in the morning and the evening. If one stands in good Little Bustard areas one can hear three of four calling at one time and with careful scanning usually find them as well. They will do their bounce, as KY's photo shows and males will also chase each other in a wide circling flight, their wings making a whistling sound, which gives them their Spanish name "Sisón". The females lack the bold neck pattern and can be seen if one carefully checks the vicinity, slowly approaching a favoured male.

The other excellent time to see Little Bustards is in the winter when they form flocks, sometimes of several hundred strong. They prefer to be in fields where there is tall dry vegetation such as dead thistles or stubble and can often be quite well concealed. However, the low morning or evening sunlight will catch the white underparts to reveal the birds' presence.

Sadly, the Little Bustard is in trouble. Over half of the Iberian population occurs in Extremadura and neighbouring Castille La Mancha, more than half of the global population occurs in the peninsular. However, surveys carried out in Extremadura suggest a decline of 75% in just eleven years, and overall across Spain the decline is thought to be about 30% (De Juana, E., 2009 Ardeola 56:119-125). The overall negative trend is probably due to gradual changes in land-use and agricultural practice, but why the decline would be more marked in Extremadura, no one knows. After all, here in many of the steppe areas the land-use practice is still quite traditional, with a slow rotation system, low intensity land-use and mixed farming. The results of the survey match many anecdotal observations of those who have been birding in Extremadura for twenty or more years. It goes to show how important these regular surveys are, but they also need to be followed-up quickly with more in-depth studies of factors that may influence population trends. A morning on the plains in late spring without hearing the Little Bustard call or watching it "bounce" would be unimagineable.

For more of KY's photos go to

https://picasaweb.google.com/kyshum/SpainWildBirds

Of butterflies and birds

2011-07-02T09:22:00.000+02:00

Last August I posted a blog about butterflies in the garden. Earlier this year some good friends of ours Peter and Jan Farrbridge got in touch to suggest coming to spend a week with us in early June, for some birding of course, but with also with a special focus on butterflies. I was very enthusiastic about the idea. It would be new for us and a great challenge to come up with a suitable itinerary to take into account the likelihood of high temperatures, but the need to spend as much time as possible on foot. As with a bird tour, generally speaking the greater the diversity of habitats visited, so the number of species of butterflies seen should be greater. Given that Peter and Jan also wanted to see as many as possible of most sought-after birds as well, I looked at routes that would focus on birds first thing in the morning (with a specially early start for the bustards and sandgrouse of the steppes - even a couple of hours after sunrise, the heat haze would make viewing very difficult) and then shift to butterflies by late morning and for the afternoon. I included four areas of higher altitude habitats, partly to escape the heat and also because these would be particuarly productive for butterflies as well at this time of the year (actually they were great for birds too like Honey Buzzards, Bonelli's Eagles, Red-billed Choughs, Ortolan Buntings and Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers to name but a few). Peter and Jan also wanted the pace to be as relaxed as possible - they were on holiday after all(!), so we took it easy. We had no particular target in mind, but by the end of the week we had seen 46 species of butterfly. We were delighted! However, as always, it is not the numbers that count, rather the special experiences that will fix in the memory. Let me relate two. We spent a full day at the highest point of the Villuercas Mountains (at 1600 metres).

Within minutes we were watching Glanville (photo above), Marsh and Queen of Spain Fritillaries, as well as Sooty and Purple-shot Coppers (photo below), attractd to patches of French Lavander, which at this altitude was still in flower.

As we proceeded down the road, we chanced upon patches of brambles in flower. Here we could simply stand and be bowled-over by the profusion of butterflies, such as Cardinals and the gorgeous Southern White Admiral (see photo at top of page) and Iberian Marbled White (see below).

We had lunch beside a small grassy clearing. Here the bizarre Owlfly (Order Neuroptera) which buzzed around in their predatory manner like little flying robots. During that day we had barely travelled more than a couple of kilometres along this little road and had seen no fewer than 24 species of Butterfly. Another special memory comes from our visit to the Honduras Pass (again about 1500 metres above sea-level) above the Jerte Valley in the Gredos mountains.

High Brown Fritillaries were in profusion (see photo above)and we also found species such as Rozy-Grizzled Skipper, but constantly in the background we could hear nothing else apart from the rather plaintive, but enchanting song of Ortolan Buntings (photo below). And as we stood straight after stooping to look at butterflies, we could simply take in the glorious mountain scenary.

Thickbills in the thistles

2011-06-07T23:46:00.000+02:00

This is one of my favourite times of the year to be in garden. And one of the reasons for this is that one of my favourite birds are very easy to watch here at the moment. It is the Hawfinch or Picogordo in Spanish which translates as stout or thick bill. Over the years here I have almost worked out the annual cycle of our local Hawfinches. I know that in the winter they will come to feed on ripe olives, on the fruit of cypresses and I have even seen one pick up an unshelled almond. In late winter we often see a male singing from the bare tree in front of the house. In March the place to find them is where there are Southern elm trees. They feast on the mast. There is a clump opposite the church just down the lane. And then they disappear. During most of April and May they can be hard to find - a fleeting glimpse of a bird in flight here, another disappearing across a wooded valley there. The reason is that they become very secretive during the breeding season. They must be breeding close to us - perhaps in one of the tall Cork Oaks nearby, perhaps in an old olive, because suddenly, come the end of May, family parties of Hawfinches arrive as if out of the blue. The reason why they come is because of the Milk Thistles. We have a thriving population of these in our field and garden and at this time of the year the flowers have withered and the seeds have ripened, sitting atop the spiky thistle head, which is somewhat reminiscent of a spiky headed dinosaur, and viciously sharp. Hawfinches love them. At almost any time of the day the metallic chink calls of adults and young can be heard and from the kitchen window I can watch these splendid birds attempting to land on top of the thistle, plucking a seed and flying off again. I first saw Hawfinches almost forty years ago, when as a schoolboy, I wandered along the lanes through open woodland near my home in South Wales. I still remember my first sighting - a bird perched on top of what I called the "Woodpecker Tree". They are quite common here and one can even find small flocks of them in wooded valleys, attracted by wild olives (I once counted 35 lined up on an overhead cable), but it is the proximity of them here in the garden which I count as a real blessing. Even now, I get a flutter of excitement whenever I see one: common they may be here, but never commonplace.

The allure of the Black Wheatear

2011-05-07T22:32:00.000+02:00

It is a funny old spring here...after weeks of hot dry weather, most of the last three weeks have been wet. The landscape that was starting to turn yellow has been reinvigourated almost beyond belief, with grass shooting up, which makes finding Little Bustards quite a challenge. The late spring flowers are putting on a grand show - yesterday Claudia and I came across a meadow near us with a dark pink hue thanks to hundreds of wild gladioli. After most of the last few weeks in the field with guests, I dodged the showers of the last few days to put the vegetable garden back in order, discovering the rows of onions, garlic and beans amongst the rampant vegetation of my neglected plot. Tomorrow I head to Madrid to pick up two more guests coming for a week's birding holiday here. It does not matter how many times I have collected clients at the airport, the sense of trepidation remains. What will their expectations be? What is their preferred pace? What do they particularly want to see? Unlike someone who takes tourists around castles and churches, I cannot guarantee that any of the species my guests want to see will be at the desired date, time and place. My subjects are free and wild. If we do not find a sought-after species where I hope to, my guests will count on my experience and local knowledge to find it somewhere else. Success will depend on that experience, plus a reasonable dose of luck and good fortune.

One of the most sought-after species is the Black Wheatear, a species resident in rocky places found just in the Iberian Peninsula (with a few in southern France) and north-west Africa. It is rather enigmatic, especially here in Extremadura. There is a lot of suitable habitat for it, but it is rather scarce. I am worried too that the species may be declining here - places where I always used to find it have been strangely bereft of the species. But even where the bird is still present, it can sometimes be very easy to see, perched confidently on high pinnacles and crags, but sometimes apparently absent. They have rather large territories and the very nature of their craggy habitat, can make it easy for them to slip out of view. I took a couple of guests to a favourite spot of mine where a river cuts a deep gorge. For an hour we waited, enjoying magnificent scenery plus a good selection of birds of prey drifting overhead. Just as we were about to leave, almost on cue, onto the stage swooped a male Black Wheatear, its brilliant white rump and tail (just barely tipped black) contrasting with its black body and wings. It gave its quiet song from the roadside and then parachuted down, tail fanned, down the scree slope. Black Wheatears are rather large for the genus with short, rounded wings which are ideally suited for drifting and gliding downwards on cliffs and rocky slopes. They nest in holes in old buildings, walls and crevices. Like some other wheatears, the male brings stones to the entrance of the nest, sometimes as heavy as 10g and in one case weighing apparently 28g which is about two-thirds of the bird's weight! According to the Handbook of the Birds of the World, thousands of small pebbles can accumulate at the nest entrance of sites used in successive years. The photos with the this posting are taken by John Hawkins and the second one shows a female (rather browner than the male) carrying a lizard almost as long as she is to the nest..to give to the nestlings! Like another favourite of mine, the Bonelli's Eagle, Black Wheatears are simply evocative of crags and old castles, set in magnificent rocky landscapes, a vivid black-and-white allure and certainly a wonderful enigma.

Moments with migrants

2011-04-20T12:16:00.000+02:00

Throughout more or less the whole of the first part of spring I have been sharing my enjoyment of the birds and other wildlife in Extremadura with guests who I have taken out into the field. Almost the whole time, the sun has been shining and the temperatures have been more like May than early spring. Just this week, we are being rained on (the land needs it desperately) and this break in the weather has matched exactly a few days to be based at home. It is a great opportunity to take stock of the season so far. Most of the summer migrants have arrived on cue and the rest somewhat earlier than usual. Observers in many countries are recording arrival dates of migrant birds and these are showing a trend for some species to be arriving a little earlier each year. The same is true in Spain. This year's big surprise in this respect were the Red-necked Nighjars, which were first heard in our village on 10th April, a good week or so before I usually hear them from home. Melodious Warblers also were particularly early. Being out every day is far from boring...every time I am in the field, there will always, always be something memorable that draws my attention, provides a surprise or simply becomes a special moment to treasure. Never more so than during migration time when the panorama changes every day with new arrivals, species passing through. One can visit the same site several days in succession and the mixture of species seen will be different everyday. Two moments stand out in this respect. One was a morning drive along a quiet road in the plains to the south of us. We had watched the magnificence of displaying Great Bustards and I stopped a few hundred metres further on because I had heard the soft bubbling call of Black-bellied Sandgrouse. But something else caught my eye..something large, brown and white in the field. I checked with my binoculars. It was an Osprey. This fish-eating bird of prey is a migrant here and a species one quite often finds at our reservoirs or along the large rivers, but here was one sitting in an open field in the steppes...indeed two Black-bellied Sandgrouse flew across my field of view - now those and Osprey in view simultaneously..wonders will never cease!

The next moment was more subtle. We were standing beside a gravelly pool. In the tamarisk and willow bushes beside us warblers sang: Melodious, Cetti's, Willow and Western Bonelli's (this spring has seen a good passage of them across our area: see John Hawkin's photo at the start of the post), along with a Nightingale. On the pool in front were Whiskered and Gull-billed Terns, a few Collared Pratincole, some passage waders (Dunlin, Little Stint, Ringed Plover) and some resident species (Kentish and Little Ringed). As we scanned the water's edge we came across a fine Stone Curlew and just when we thought that fifteen minutes could not be more productive, a Spoonbill came in to feed. All we had done was to get out of the car, walk a hundred metres and then stand in the shade of a large willow tree. Another special moment had become fixed into our memories.

More orchids

2011-04-19T21:33:00.000+02:00

Since my last post, I have been spending practically everyday in the field and I will do a post later on some of the spring birds we have seen. It has been an odd spring with over three weeks with hardly any rain and above average temperatures (it has just started to rain again today). But I just want to follow-up on the theme of my last blog on orchids with the unfolding story of orchid spring in Extremadura. Just a few days after that blog (written in late March) I was back at the site I described. This time, the Woodcock Orchids (Ophrys scolopax)which I had failed to find in March, were abundant and what a gorgeous and varied species it is.

We also found Dark Ophrys (Ophrys incubacea).

As April progresses, so the first flush of the early spring orchids fade (although the verges near our house still have Champagne orchids in flower). Interest then turns to the species characteristic of late spring. Locally, these are predominantly the tongue orchids or Serapias. We visited a great area for these just a couple of days ago. Hundreds were in flower. They are a terribly complex group to identify and I have still not yet acquired a decent key or identification tool, so let me simply put some photos of them on the blog and if anyone has any ideas please let me know! Certainly the photos include Serapia lingua, but perhaps there is a Serapia vomeracea or Serapia cordigera there as well!

I will be back there when I can, and this time studying some of the anatomy of the flowers a little more closely!

Orchid spring

2011-03-28T23:02:00.000+02:00

Extremadura is world famous as a destination for birders and each spring people come from many countries to visit Monfragüe National Park to enjoy the spectacle of vultures, eagles and Black Storks, as well as going to the plains near Trujillo and Cáceres for Great and Little Bustards, sandgrouse and other open country specialities. Most also visit the reservoir of Arrocampo near the town of Almaraz to see Purple Heron, Purple Swamphen, Little Bittern and other wetland species. Not many realise that just a few minutes from the reservoir is one of the best orchid areas in the province of Cáceres: the Cerro de Almaraz. We went there last Sunday, grabbing a couple of hours of quality family time during our peak season for guests. There is an orchid trail, taking one through a landscape of olive groves on a chunk of limestone, an unusual bedrock in the province. Hence the orchids. The first impression are the hundreds and hundreds of spikes of the Naked Man Orchid (Orchis italica), dominating tracts of orchard and the verges. They are very robust and vary in colour from almost white to dark pink.

Almost as common was the Conical Orchid (Orchis conica).

Patrick is very good at finding Yellow Bee Orchid (Ophrys lutea)- his favourite -

and like the gorgeous Mirror Orchid (Ophrys speculum) we found lots once we had got our eye in to their scale - little clumps and much smaller than the Naked Man Orchids.

Patrick also found some Champagne Orchids (Orchis chamapgneuxii), a species that also occurs on our more acidic soils around our village,

as does the very beautiful, highly variable and quite widespread Sawfly Orchid (Ophrys tenthredinifera).

We also found the showy Pink Butterfly Orchid (Orchis papilionacea), a species which also occurs near our village.

I was very pleased to show Patrick a few Fan-lipped Orchid (Orchis collina) - sometimes known as Hill Orchid, which flowers early so it is the end of the season already for that species.

We did not find Woodcock Orchid (Ophrys scolopax), which we did see last year, but perhaps it is a bit early for it this year. Still, we were delighted with our list of eight species, found within just a couple of hundred metres of distance in little more than half an hour.

Larks and daffodils

2011-03-27T11:21:00.000+02:00

Throughout early spring there really is no better place to be than out on the plains of Extremadura. The mosaic of traditional rotation low intensity farming provides a long list of attractions. The obvious may be the lekking Great Bustards or displaying Montagu's Harriers, but the more understated can be just as memorable. Throughout February and most of March the early spring flowers start adding a delicate set of colours to the landscape, just before the exuberance of the artist's palate that is April. Sand crocuses and the gorgeous Barbary Nut Iris, for which you need to be out in the afternoon to see at its best, as the flowers remain resolutely closed in the morning. Searching carefully one can find Sawfly Orchids as well. One of my favourites are the wild daffodils, or really narcissi. The first is the pale yellow Angel Tear's, a wonderful name befitting its drooping, nodding tear-shaped flower (Edited comment: Brians Banks has just sent me this: In 1888 a British plant collector used a boy called Angel to clamber up a steep rocky bank to collect bulbs of this plant. The weather was hot and the boy was cross and apparently he burst into tears. The bulbs were labelled after this event....Reported in "Narcissus, A guide to wild daffodils", by John Blanchard. Pub. Alpine Garden Society. The boy's full name was Angel Gancedo, and the incident took place in the north west of Spain. The British collector was Peter Barr. Story was reported 45 years later by his son in 1933). Ah well, whenever I see this plant again, I shall think of poor Angel Gancedo!

Following on is the bolder Hoop Petticoat Narcissus (see my photo) which can sometimes form carpets on fallow fields, all the flowers pointing in the same direction. In damper areas, Common Jonquil is another narcissus, which is just finishing flowering now.

If the narcissi provide visual delight, then it is impossible to be out on the plains without a constant backdrop of lark song. The most distinctive is that of the Calandra Lark, whose song is crammed full of mimicry of other species: Swallows, Goldfinches and Green Sandpipers, to mention just a few. They are rather gregarious and as soon as one starts singing, others rise from the ground to join-in. Thekla Larks are also renowned for their mimetic songs, not as diverse as that of the Calandra, but more so than the confusingly similar Crested Lark. Like the Calandra, they will rise sometimes to great height, when set against a clear blue sky they can be very difficult to locate. At the edge of the plains, where the open dehesa woodland starts, the sweetest song of all can be heard. The Woodlark too will be airbourne on a sunny morning, although they can also be singing in the middle of the night. Spring flowers and lark song boost one's senses and one's spirits in such an embracing way.

Amazing optics

2011-02-14T18:20:00.000+01:00

My eye caught a movement in the semi-darkness. I could just make out in the dusk that something had landed at the base of a bush, halfway up the cliffside. As I lifted the binoculars to my eyes, my assumption was immediately confirmed. Thanks to an image brighter than my own eyesight and with the magnification offered, I had found the bird that we had been waiting for. Although well past sunset, its shape and cryptic plumage was readily visible. Straightaway I called out "Eagle Owl" and the rest of the group followed my directions to find it. Normally when one considers binoculars for very low-light conditions one looks for as low a magnification as possible, generally seven times (7x). However, the binoculars I was handling were 12x. Now if you ask most experienced birdwatchers what they think of 12x binoculars, hands raise in horror at memories of massive pieces of equipment, barely possible to raise to one's eyes, let alone keep steady, purchased by ill-advised novices who believe that size matters. That would have been my knee-jerk response too. Well, here I was, lucky enough to be taking part in the international launch of Swarovski's new generation of Swarovision binoculars, the amazing EL50 range. For three days some of the world's most influential birders were given the chance to test these new top-quality optics in the field, including the world's two top raptor identification experts: Dick Forsman from Finland and William Clark from the USA, the co-founder of the British Birdfair Tim Appleton and the founder of the World Series of Birding, Peter Dunne. My good friend Godfried Schreur, a guide like me based in Extremadura, and I were responsible for taking the group (see Godfried's photo attached) to a range of different habitats, offering opportunities to test the new binoculars under varying conditions, with a particular (but not exclusive) focus on birds of prey. The birds did not let us down....the white-leading edge of the wing of Spanish Imperial Eagle gleaming in the sun, thousands of Pintail, Shoveler and Common Crane, a hunting Merlin, the spring's first Garganey, both species of sandgrouse feeding in a field, Great Bustards flying low over our heads, a Great Spotted Cuckoo that simply got closer and closer, three Golden Eagles soaring together over the village of Monroy, Lesser Kestrels in glorious evening light in Trujillo.

As for the EL50 binoculars, well simply extraordinary: both the 10x and 12x surpassed our expectations. I could not believe that I was using 12x optics, they were as steady as my own pair of 10 x 42, with an image quality that was truly remarkable...Swarovski have achieved the impossible, again!

Unashamedly anthropomorphic

2011-02-03T07:56:00.000+01:00

Sometimes it is impossible to resist being anthropomorphic...describing animal behaviour in terms of human attitudes and motives. Two incidents last week on the same day, at the same place (indeed minutes of each other) prompted such a lapse! I was with a group of four people, David and Kath from the north of England and Liz and Brian from Wales and we were at the wonderful Portilla del Tiétar viewpoint in the Monfragüe National Park. It is the sort of place where one can easily spend hours, just waiting for birds to arrive, enjoying the magnificent scenery and other wildlife. Angel Tear's Narcissus was coming out into flower near where we stood and an Eagle Owl sat incubating her eggs. We spotted an Otter swimming to a rocky bay with a catfish in its mouth and watched as it clambered up onto a rock to eat it. Then it swam out again to catch another. This caught the attention of a Grey Heron which flew in to stand beside the bay. The Otter returned to the bay and ate its fish whilst the heron watched. Out it swam again. This time the heron was ready for it. As the Otter returned with yet another fish the heron positioned itself at the spot where the Otter was coming up. The heron got ready, crest raised. The Otter appeared, fish in mouth, and took one look at the heron as it to say "look what I've got!", It then deliberately turned its back to the heron and sat there eating its fish...one could imagine the heron scowling. Off the Otter went again and soon returned with another fish. This time the heron was more aggressive and stood above the Otter lunging at it with its long bill. The Otter, fish in mouth, stayed in the water, popping up and down as the heron lunged "you can't get me!". The fishy commotion attracted another piscivore as a Kingfisher arrived and sat on a twig surveying the Otter and heron from above. All three were in the same field of view of the telescope...a chamber of horrors if one was a fish!

As we were enjoying this scene a Raven called and approached the cliff above us. I love Ravens..they have real personality and this one certainly had attitude! It landed barking at a Griffon Vulture, standing several times bigger than the Raven. The cheeky chappy Raven looked up at the vulture and the vulture peered down at the Raven. The Raven shifted from one foot to another, looking at the vulture and calling as if to say "Who are you looking at? Want to do something about it?" It was easy to imagine the huge Griffon Vulture sighing as it looked down.."you and whose army?"

Winter gatherings

2011-01-25T10:27:00.000+01:00

Spring-like weather last week has given way to bitingly cold easterly winds. Despite there being clumps of wild narcissus in flower in sheltered places and some almond blossom, we are still in winter here. Despite the arrival of Hosue Martins and some Swallows, and even a Great Bustard starting some tentative paces in its courtship display, the birds too still have a winter feel about them. Hard weather in central Europe has brought an invasion of Goosanders to Spain and two have even reached Extremadura, for the first time ever. I saw a female swimming on the river running through the Monfragüe National Park last Sunday. But the most striking feature of birds in winter are the sheer numbers. Yesterday we watched a big flock of two or three hundred Corn Bunting rising from a stubble field as a male Merlin attacked. It had arrived almost un-noticed, mimicking a Mistle Thrush with a low gliding flight interspersed with rapid flaps. Then it accerated and dashed through the rising buntings,twisting and turning, swerving upwards. It did not manage to take a bunting - I am sure had we not been there, it would have dived for a second attempt. At the weekend I took part in a national survey of winter roosts of Herons and Egrets. A tiny clump of rather undistinguished willows in a tiny gravel pit, beside a road has been a roosting site for Cattle Egret, close to one of my favourite birding routes. I arrived late afternoon. There was nothing in the trees and just half a dozen egrets were feeding around some sheep. As the sun set, parties of Cattle Egrets started to arrive from all directions, mostly flying low and direct, some coming in from greater height and then tumbling down to land. They gathered on a small hummock next to the trees (see the photo) before taking some mysterious cue which made them take off and then literally stream into the trees, which become something of a swarming white, squawking mass. I estimated somewhere between 2250 and 2400 Cattle Egrets had arrived, along with over a hundred Little Egret and a single Glossy Ibis, which is a very unusual winter record. As the results came in from across the province, it became clear that this roost was by far and away the largest.

Le grand duc

2011-01-12T08:02:00.000+01:00

There is something magnificently apt in the French name for the Eagle Owl - the Grand Duke - an aristocratic aloofness, mystery and power. I certainly sensed this yesterday evening, in the dusk after sunset, in a perfect still calm with the moon and Jupiter starting to shine above me. The first bats had emerged and the last vultures had reached their roost. There was silence. Then, almost inaudible, a muffled "oohu". The next call was louder, more resonent, appearing to come from the dark rocky massif in front of me, the gorge creating a perfect acoustic arena. Then another call, quickly followed by another. Clearly I was now listening to two birds calling to each other. Instinct told me to scan the top of the cliff, where the sharp crisp boundary between the dark rock and the evening sky was visible. And there it was, close to the highest point of all, a new shape that had not been there a few minutes earlier: a large body, rounded head and long "ear-tufts" sometimes sticking out horizontally, sometimes just catching the slightest wisp of a breeze. It slowly moved its head. Its mate was not visible perched, but obviously had been nearby because as I watched, the second bird appeared in flight and headed due south, making a long silent glide into the distance, its wingspan as large as a Grey Heron's. Its mate stayed put and was silent for a few minutes, before it gave a more nasal barking call, its body tilting forward as it did so. This told me that this was the female. She stopped and then took off, but unlike the her mate, flying in my direction, overhead and then landing on the rocks behind me. There she stood for a short while before taking off again and gliding off to the east.

Eagle Owls are top predators with a huge variety of prey including hares, Roe Deer fawns and buzzards. Here in Extremadura they are quite common and widespread, although no one really has a good idea of the population size, which is estimated at anywhere between 400 to 800 pairs. Although the call can be quite far-carrying, it is also easily swamped by other sounds such as traffic and the calling each winter evening does not usually last very long, so detecting Eagle Owls is not as easy as one might imagine. The attached photo was taken in the spring by a guest of ours,David Irven.

Yesterday evening there was no doubt, however, who the Le Grand Duc of the terrain was, staking out its territory from its lofty vantage point and challenging the silence with its haunting call.

Discovering more migration wonders

2011-01-07T11:16:00.000+01:00

It is a pretty wet and windy start to the year here in Extremadura. Traditionally in Spain children receive their Christmas presents on the morning of 6th January, having left out milk and biscuits the previous evening for the Three Kings of the Orient (Los Reyes Magos). Many families will have congregated in town squares across Spain on the evening of the 5th to watch the horseback procession, along with decorated floats, accompanying the arrival of the Magi to the town. In nearby Trujillo, the Three Kings bring gifts to a Nativity Scene where children portray the roles of Mary, Joseph and shepherds, with Mary carrying a real baby. After a welcome from the mayor, the Kings give a short speech and then the children from the town line-up to receive bags of sweets, before heading back home looking forward to their presents the following morning. This year a downpour soaked everyone in the square just as the Three Kings arrived.

I have been making best use of the bad weather to catch-up on lots of chores in-doors, paperwork and enjoying some reading by the log fire. Yesterday I came across a fascinating article about one of our most enchanting birds here, the Lesser Kestrel. Apart from the occasional bird which stays here in the winter, Lesser Kestrels are now all south of the Sahara, on their wintering grounds in Senegal, Mali and Mauritania. They are an early migrant back here in the spring. By February one can hear their soft "chi-chi-chi" call as they drift over the rooftops in Trujillo. In the most recent issue of Ibis, the journal of the British Ornithologists Union (2011. 153: 154-164), an international team of scientists describes a study of Lesser Kestrels which breed in southern Portugal. They attached light-weight devices onto some of the birds in the summer which record the daylight pattern everyday. Using this information, the researchers are able to determine the daily location of each marked individual. This information is retrieved when the birds are recaptured on their return the following spring. These devices are cheaper and smaller than those used for tracking by satellite, and so much more appropriate for small and medium-sized birds.

The results were very interesting. We knew that there was some dispersal of juvenile birds from colonies after the breeding season, with some birds moving northwards into Spain in search of food, but this study showed that some adults too travel as far as north-east Spain from southern Portugal. Most amazing was the information on journey time for their main migration. These birds were taking on average 4.8 days to travel from the Iberian peninsular to West Africa in the autumn (an average of 600kms a day!) whilst in the spring, they return from West Africa to southern Portugal in just over four days (4.1 days on average), clocking up 650 kms per day! In the winter they are known to form large roosts and the article cited the discovery by French ornithologists of a roost in Senegal holding no fewer than 28,000 Lesser Kestrels. This represents somewhere between 30% and 50% of the entire Western Europan population! I remember visiting a much smaller roost of Lesser Kestrel in southern Ethiopia a few years ago, watching the birds seemingly appear out of nowhere out of the sky as the sun was setting.

We certainly live in interesting times regarding the discoveries being made thanks to the tracking of individual birds on migration. This new techology is making us revise many of our assumptions on the way in which birds behave on migration and make us marvel at the extraordinary journeys they make. I will certainly welcome back our Lesser Kestrels in a few weeks time with a sense of wonder.

Wonderful olives

2010-12-18T09:47:00.000+01:00

If you walk along the narrow lanes or tracks in the small range of hills where we live at any time from late November through to January you will be bound to hear the "thwack - thwack" of the traditional olive harvest. Families will be out in their small olive groves, using long poles to hit the branches of the trees, so that the olives fall onto nets placed on the ground below the tree. Apparently the olives drop more easily once there have been a couple of hard frosts. In the large scale commercial olive plantations elsewhere, the harvest is mechanical, but on the small family holdings, often on quite steep slopes, harvesting is really only possible by hand. The purists do not even use poles, preferring to collect the olives in their fingers. That way there is less damage to the twigs (especially to the buds) and the olives suffer less bruising. But this can be very time-consuming when one is collecting the quantities needed for oil. A skilled harvester can however use the pole in a way that reduces damage - tapping, almost caressing the branches, so the olives fall by the vibration of the tapping rather than through brute force. We have a small olive grove too, and the annual harvest is a real highlight for us, a real social occasion (as indeed it is for many families here), with a picnic lunch and plenty of banter. There are also roving teams able to offer help and they work on the olive harvest right through the winter.

We use both the hand-picking and the pole methods, working a tree, collecting the olives that have fallen onto the net, taking them in a bucket to a sieve (see the attached photo taken by our son Patrick) to remove twigs and leaves and then pouring the fruit into sacks. This year, with the help of my sister and some local friends, we collected 14 sackfuls. These we took to an olive press where we receive the oil from our very own olives (there are also nearby cooperatives, where one can exchange olives for cash or oil). It is always exciting waiting to be told what the weight of the crop is (this year we harvested 457 kilos), then to watch the olives pass by conveyor belt to the press itself. Finally, a real sense of satisfaction to watch our own olive oil being poured into the five litre containers. We took home 69 litres of oil - enoughh for our annual consumption.

Some olives remain on the trees and there are plenty left on the ground. None are wasted. They represent a great energy source for birds in winter: Azure-winged Magpies (which store olives under leaves, like Jays store acorns), Hawfinches and winter visitors like Song Thrushes and Blackcaps. For the latter, oilves represent a key part of their winter diet and huge numbers spend the winter here from Central Europe. Indeed on gentle stroll along our lane for a couple of hours yesterday I saw or heard over 150 Blackcaps. Old olive trees with their gnarled trunks provide great foraging areas for Short-toed Treecreepers whilst every year a pair of Hoopoe nest in a cavity in one of our trees.

The storks return

2010-12-12T16:44:00.000+01:00

We were sitting having lunch last Friday at a pavement cafe in the main square of our local town Trujillo on Friday, enjoying a wonderfully mild day (in the garden bees have been at the rosemary flowers). Our son Patrick looked up and spotted a White Stork standing on its nest, built on a platform beside a renovated tower (see photo). The nesting storks on the tops of the old buildings around the town's square are one of Trujillo's many attractions and the souvenir shops sell T-shirts with storks depicted. However, this was 10th December. It comes as a surprise to many of our visitors when I tell them that the White Storks are back on their nests in Trujillo by Christmas, for further north in Central Europe the storks are arriving only in early spring. The fact is our local White Storks are partial migrants, with many of the adults staying here all year round and occupying nests from mid-winter onwards (indeed in the lower altitude flood plains nearby, storks can be seen on their nests throughout the autumn. Our local birds do leave their nesting areas and their favoured spring feeding areas, the nearby plains, and congregrate at large rubbish tips or in the rice-growing area in central Extremadura where they seem to feed many on the exotic American crayfish. But by mid-winter they are back, the males arriving first to take occupancy of the nest (they usually return to the same nest)and often pairing up with the first female that shows an interest. The characteristic bill-clacking echoes across the square throughout the breeding season as birds use it to greet each other on return from feeding forays.

In Extremadura we have the highest density of breeding White Storks in Spain with over 11,000 pairs in 2004, a number which seems to be increasing each year. Not all nest on buildings, indeed there are as many pairs breeding in trees and near Cáceres there is even a colony nesting on top of large granite boulders.

Celebrating cranes

2010-12-06T17:33:00.000+01:00

This weekend saw the second Crane Festival in Extremadura, organised by the government (the Junta de Extremadura) and held at the Crane Information Centre of Moheda Alta, right within the most important region in Extremadura for wintering Common Crane, indeed the largest concentration of crane in the whole of Spain. Through guided excursions, activities for children, lectures as well as an opportunity to enjoy local food and watch folk dances, the idea is to celebrate the winter spectacle cranes here and to further increase the awareness of both local people as well as visitors from many other regions of Spain of this wonderful bird. The cranes themselves do their bit. Travelling around the area over the weekend there can hardly have been a moment when the evocative trumpeting of the cranes could not be heard or there were not parties of cranes in the sky (see the attached photo taken by a guest David Palmer). They formed a continuous background for us. My job was to take groups of visitors out on walks and bus trips to see cranes and other local birds. The only challenge was the weather (Sunday was particularly wet and windy) because the birds themselves were magnificently obliging. Flocks of hundreds of cranes beside the road..several thousand at a roost, their forms taking shape as the sun rose in a stormy sky and their bugling reaching crescendo as they set off to feed, superb formations of cranes heading to roost against a backdrop of the mountains. We also saw several Black-winged Kites and watched Black-bellied Sandgrouse feeding close-by. On a midday excursion, we unfortunatley hit a very heavy rain storm just as we started to look for Great Bustard. Finding a large flock standing motionless in a field, we two guides set up our telescopes on tripods, opened an umbrella each and our group descended two at a time from the bus to peer at the bustards before going back inside and two others coming out. An almost surreal way to show people such emblematic birds, but it will stay in the memories of all of us for a long long time.

An exuberance of eagles

2010-11-24T18:46:00.000+01:00

There is nothing really quite like it. A sighting of one of our three big resident eagles species always, always brings excitement. Extremadura is one of the best places in the world to see eagles. The powerful and evocative Bonelli's Eagle (about 100 pairs here) I have mentioned several times in previous blogs, simply because for me it captures the spirit of remote, rocky valleys. The Spanish Imperial Eagle (see John Hawkins' photo) with about 50 pairs is noisy and combative, often seeking the opportunity for a tussle with a vulture. But it was the Golden Eagle (with about 125 pairs in Extremadura) which stole the show this week. The biggest of all three of the these resident species, it roams across large territories over the plains and mountains. The vast open spaces typical of Extremadura provide great hunting habitat.

It was a breezy mid-November day, with the clouds breaking from time to time to bring sunshine to the steppes. We had already seen a distant pair of Golden Eagle earlier in the day, but at our lunch spot we enjoyed watching a juvenile bird flying low across the terrain, its bright white wing flashes and base of tail contrasting strongly with its dark brown plumage. Just minutes later an adult Golden Eagle appeared, lacking the white markings and showing its diagnostic golden nape. It was not interested in the presence of the younger bird. Instead, it flapped upwards, gaining height until right over our heads. Then it did a somersault, so it was belly up and head down and then stooped in a great dive straight towards us. It then curved upwards again, the sheer momentum carrying it skywards to perform yet another somersault and dive. We were witnessing the Sky Dance of the Golden Eagle and this bird was truly performing with extraordinary exuberance. A third time it swooped up, flipped over and dived. We were mere onlookers (albeit ecstatic ones), this bird was performing for a different audience, its mate, which hung high in the sky, a stationary form. Not for the first time I reflected on how in contrast to our grounded two-dimensional perspective of the great dome of the sky, the eagles exploited and explored this space..they were truly in their element.

Scores of sandgrouse

2010-11-11T12:41:00.000+01:00

They looked at first like distant clods of earth - dark, round shapes just below the skyline. Watching them closely, one could see them shuffling around on the short sward, occasionally one rising slightly to flap its wings, a white belly and underwing catching the low morning sunlight. They were Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, a flock of probably at least 70 birds. They are very special birds, much sought-after by visitors and therefore always a pleasure to find and show to guests. They epitomise the open steppe-country for me. The wide expanse of the plains, just twenty minutes from our home, with its largely traditional mixed-farming rotation system, which allows the thin poor soil to rest for long periods is ideal for this species. They like either close sheep-cropped pasture or fallow rich in pioneer "weeds", as long as the vegetation is not too high- their short legs and necks mean that tall plants would curtail their visibility enormously. They are also quite faithful to particular areas. We found our first group of the day feeding at the top end of a field. Our second group we saw first in flight, almost Golden Plover-like, with rapid beats of rather long-pointed wings interspersed with characteristic long glides as the birds wheeled, turned, rose and descended. Typically this flock (numbering almost a hundred birds)stayed together at the beginning and then split up into twos and threes heading off in all directions. As they fly many were giving their characteristic gull-like call, which is far-carrying and a excellent way of locating their presence. The pin-tail (long central tail feathers) are hard to see on the ground, showing best when the bird is in flight. It is a gorgeously-coloured bird, with a rich orange breast and beautiful markings on the upperparts, as this picture by John Hawkins shows. The third group, also at least 70-strong, we found feeding on a grassy slope, close to the road at the end of the day, the winter afternoon light picking up the plumage gloriously. With a grand total of the day of perhaps about 250 sandgrouse, this must have been my best ever day for this species, especially with the prolonged and evocative views as we had enjoyed, a centrepiece for a really enjoyable day of winter birding in Extremadura.

Gems in rocky places

2010-10-24T09:19:00.000+02:00

During our supposed low season, I often do short pieces of work for the charity Save the Children, for whom I used to work full-time. This usually involves trips of about a week or so to give training and mentoring to teams of people managing programmes of work in different parts of the world. The last few weeks have seen me in South America, the Middle-East and South Africa. It is very different from life in Extremadura, keeps me in touch with former colleagues and gives me the chance to meet some wonderful and inspiring people making a real difference to children's lives. Of course as far as life and birdwatching in Extremadura is concerned there really is no such thing as a low season - there are always jobs to do in the garden and always great birds to see. During my brief stopovers here I have managed to pick olives for curing, cleared up old olive suckers for burning and started preparing the vegetable garden for the winter. The autumn is an exciting time for birding as the migration continues and winter visitors start to arrive. There are now hundreds of Common Cranes already here and the sunny days are encouraging Woodlarks to sing over the garden, accompanying the autumnal song of our wintering Robins. Being away for much fo the time I have managed to miss some national rarities that have made an appearance here: Pectoral and Buff-breasted Sandpipers. One wonders how many other North American species come through the area...there is a lot of suitable habitat and very few birders. The visiting birders who have stayed with us this month have had a rewarding time. Eagles are much harder to find at this time of the year, but otherwise most of the sought-after species have been seen. Tom and Greg Mabbett stayed a week in the middle of the month and were fortunate enough to come across a Wallcreeper in Monfragüe National Park See the attached photo of their's). These are gorgeous little birds, real gems with butterfly like wings revealing a beautiful crimson feathers. They nest in the Pyrenees and were considered to be extremely rare in Extremadura. However, in recent years in October there have been single records, suggesting that there is a passage through the area. Some may spend the winter here too. In 2008, I took a family to a peak high in the Villuercas mountains in early January, looking for Alpine Accentor. We sat on rocks overlooking a deep gully when suddenly a crimson and grey shape flew across. It showed itself again a few minutes later. My first Wallcreeper in Extremadura and at the time only the seventh record. It was one of those wonderful days when cloud covered the landscape below, whilst we sat in sunshine. Looking across the mattress of white cloud, one could pick-out in absolute claity other distant high peaks. The thought crossed my mind that all the Wallcreeper needed to do to reach here was to fly from one peak to another (island-hopping, as it were), all the way from the north. This Wallcreeper stayed at that site for two months, was seen by other birders and even makes a mention in Alan Davies and Ruth Miller's book The Biggest Twitch!

Autumn sunshine

2010-10-07T11:44:00.000+02:00

There is a real sense of the turn of the seasons at the moment. I had been away for two weeks and returned to find the days noticeably fresher. There had been some rain on the day I returned, but since then we have enjoyed several days of clear blue skies. Although there has not yet been enough rain to start to turn the plains green, a light purplish sheen betrays patches of Autumn Crocuses, whilst in the Monfragüe National Park the banks have the delightful Autumn Snowflake with spikes of Autumn Squill mixed with them. There are still lots of hirundines: dense flocks of House Martins feeding over the crags and Red-rumped Swallows in the garden. We also got three glimpses of White-rumped Swifts in the park. Taking my good friend Mark out on the plains we had superb views in excellent light of Great Bustards feeding nearby and each fence seemed to hold Whinchats and Northern Wheatears. The harvest is well underway on the rice fields and where the stubble is ploughed, hundreds of Black-headed Gulls and Lesser Black-backed Gulls, along with Little and Cattle Egret feast on the stirred up sediment. Parties of waders are still coming through: Wood Sandpiper, Ruff, Avocet.Just to mix things up even further, Red Avadavats are still nest-building. But what has been most pleasing has been the number of butterflies: in Monfragüe an impressive Two-tailed Pasha, whilst pristine Common Swallowtails seem almost everywhere. On the buddleia in the garden yesterday there were two Common Swallowtails and no fewer than eight Cardinals, paying no attention whatsoever to my proximity. One treasures these warm sunny autumn days..rain is forecast soon, the plains will turn green and it will not be long now before the skeins of cranes start arriving.

Garden stepping stones

2010-09-12T09:09:00.000+02:00

We returned from a week's holiday in Galicia and the following morning I heard a rather rich, mellow song coming from deep in the foliage of an almond tree in the garden. It threw me for a moment, I could not place it. It was clearly a Sylvia warbler, but was not right for Blackcap, which is a common bird here, especially in the winter. I caught a glimpse of movement in the tree and then saw the bird. It was a Garden Warbler. I reflected that it was probably the first time in over fifteen years since I had heard their song, the first time since we left the UK, that is. They do not breed in our part of Spain and although I see them on passage every spring and autumn, this is the first time one has taken up temporary residence in the garden. "Of course" I said to myself, mentally kicking myself for not recognising the song straight away, especially since separating the rather similar songs of Blackcap and Garden Warbler was one of the tests my father frequently gave me when I was a small boy! I am rather fond of Garden Warblers. They have an understated brownish-grey appearance (usually unkindly described as nondescript), which I think makes them look warm and soft, especially with a dark beady eye and rather stubby bill.

The Garden Warbler is using our garden as a stepping stone, a refuelling stop on its long migration from central Europe to southern Africa. August and September are particularly interesting in that respect, suddenly birds which neither breed or winter locally make an appearance and make themselves at home amongst the shrubs and trees next to the house: Willow Warblers, Whitethroats, Pied and Spotted Flycatchers, Common Redstarts. I wonder if the same individuals come back for a few days each autumn. I suspect so. In 2008 and 2009, a Western Bonelli's Warbler was in the garden on almost the same dates...surely the same bird was concerned. It is well known that most migratory birds return to their same breeding territories each spring. When I was doing research on Marsh Warblers wintering in southern Zambia (where Garden Warblers were also common in winter), almost 50% of the birds that I had ringed in one winter were back in the same site the following year. If one assumes that the annual mortality rate for a small bird like that could be about 50% as well, this would mean that almost all of the birds surviving from one year to the next had returned to the same wintering site. This I found remarkable and made me feel humbled thinking about the extraordinary navigational skills of these small birds. If one takes a flight across the Sahara, one can spend hours staring out of the window onto to a vast featureless inhospitable landscape. All of these birds are successfully crossing the desert and for those heading for southern Africa the journey is still far from over. It amazes me that through a combination of mapping the stars, having an internal chronometer as well as memory of visual clues, a bird weighing just a few grams will return to a clump of trees and bushes each year in the spring to nest and to another favoured patch of trees and bushes in the southern hemisphere to spend the winter. Our garden provides a vital stepping stone for a few individuals for a few days as part of their extraordinary journey..I watch this Garden Warbler in awe and admiration.

Celebrating swifts

2010-08-26T17:33:00.000+02:00

Today is my first day back home after my annual trip to the UK for the British Birdwatching Fair. I sat with a cup of tea at the big granite table in front of the house, half an hour or so after dawn, watching against a clear blue sky a loose party of hirundines feeding quite low down. Chunky House Martins, slimmer Barn Swallows and the wonderfully attentuated Red-rumped Swallows. They wheeled and fluttered, swooped and darted. As I watched my gaze was then attracted to some quite different birds. Flying higher up and entering the arena with almost a detached disdain and purposeful collective glide was a feeding party of swifts, reminding me of the way a shoal of sharks might suddenly appear, dominate the scene and then drift off, silently, without almost a ripple as it were. They appeared to be mainly Common Swifts, probably birds already on migration attracted to the tiny invertebrates hundreds of metres above me. Within a few days this species will have left Extremadura en masse for tropical Africa. There were certainly a few Pallid Swifts amongst them, appearing paler with very extensive whitish throats. This species stays around for much longer than the Common Swift and can be seen well into October. Then a much larger bird appeared, again gliding over, even higher up, looking at first almost like a small slim raptor. It was an Alpine Swift, the biggest of them all, with its tail fanned out to appear almost rounded (very like the attached photo which my friend John Hawkins took this spring). Over the next few minutes another four or five Alpine Swifts glided over, all in the same direction, the morning sun catching their white bellies. Just a few minutes later, all of the swifts had passed through.

I love swifts and Extremadura is a great area for them. The town of Trujillo has many pairs of both Common and Pallid and there is nothing quite like walking along the deep narrow streets and having one's head almost knocked off by a rowdy pack of screaming swifts as they zoom up and down streets and alleys, climbing above the rooftops and diving down again almost to pavement level. They remind one of gangs of kids, running and yelling without a care and showing absolutely no respect for anyone else. I love the way they fly into their tiny nestholes in old masonery or under tiles at a seemingly breakneck speed. I took a group of teenagers on a guided walk of Trujillo this summer to show them birds and it was the swifts that pulled out all the stops for them. They were fascinated to hear that swifts only come to land when they nest, spending the rest of the year on the wing, sleeping on the wing and, which brought the inevitable smirks from the teenagers, copulating on the wing as well. Swifts can travel hundreds of kilometres to avoid bad weather and have very low mortality for a bird of that size. They occasionally fall prey of small falcons, like Hobbies. A couple of years ago on the Norfolk coast, I watched a party of migrating swifts flying over a very rough sea, making slow progress against a gale. A Hobby had clearly cottoned onto this, flying out to sea and managing after a very short chase to catch a swift which it carried back inland.

Here in Extremadura it is possible to see four species of swift in a day. As well as Alpine, Pallid and Common, we also have small numbers of White-rumped Swift which arrive in early May and stay around until October. They can be found in rocky areas, such as Monfragüe National Park, where they use the old nests of Red-rumped Swallows. This year has been excellent for this species and I have enjoyed wonderful views of White-rumped Swifts coming down to the slow-flowing rivers there to drink on the wing. I have not yet seen this species over the garden, although I am sure they do pass over, as I suspect they could well be nesting on cliffs about ten kilometres away.

The streets of Trujillo will feel quite different once the swifts have gone and one can only marvel at how this ultimate denizen of the skies explores and masters the dynamics of air currents and pressure systems across half the planet.

Summer swings into autumn

2010-08-13T15:32:00.000+02:00

Here in Extremadura there is the clear sensation that by mid-August the season is shifting from summer to autumn. The nights are a bit longer, it starts to feel a bit fresher at dawn and changes are afoot as far as the birds are concerned. Over the garden the Bee-eaters are in noisy flocks. As well as our local pair of pale-phase Booted Eagles, we are getting more sightings of juveniles and dark-phased birds..presumably starting to head south. There are now far fewer Black Kites around. Down on the rice fields, where the wader passage started several weeks ago, there was much less suitable habitat yesterday than on my previous visit. Open, fallow fields had dried up and were largely devoid of birds, whilst the rice in the paddies has grown much taller, making it much harder to see any birds feeding there. However, there were good numbers of Ruff (mainly juveniles), Wood Sandpipers and Green Sandpipers, as well as Common Snipe and Little Stint which had not been present on my visit in July. I arrived before dawn and whilst I sat to wait for the light to improve, I listened to the dawn chorus of Red Avadavats. This tiny exotic finch (hailing from South Asia) is clearly quite at home in the ditches beside the paddies. They are late breeders, nesting in August and September. Their call is a thin, high pitched, slightly wavering note and this was emanating from clumps of rushes where the birds had been roosting. They are invariably in small groups, which bound along the road as one drives slowly along. Here they occur alongside Common Waxbills, another escapee, this time from Africa, which tends to be less restrictive in habitat choice, liking bushy or rank vegetation (I have seen them in our garden, but is still quite localised. Being here before dawn also enabled me to pass by a wonderful Cattle Egret and Jackdaw roost, willow bushes adorned with hundreds of white and hundreds of black birds, mingled together. August is the only month here when I am likely to find Purple Heron at this site and true enough one juvenile was present, having probably arrived from the breeding population on the nearby Guadiana river. More surprising was a Squacco Heron, only the second one I have seen here on countless visits, another sign of post-breeding dispersal.

Garden butterflies

2010-08-07T17:29:00.000+02:00

Since moving in, little by little, we have been putting in flowering shrubs and other plants in the garden, trying to make it as attractive as possible for butterflies. Two Buddleia shrubs, as expected, have been superb with a throng some days of Cardinals, Common and Scarce Swallowtails, Clouded Yellows, Red Admirals and Painted Ladies. Our lavenders are thriving and are loved by bees and butterflies alike. Here is a photo of the gorgeous Marsh Fritillery on a lavender flower, taken by one of our regular guests, Peter Boardman. The delicate Long-tailed Blue is another common species in the garden, sometimes on the lavender or chasing each other high in the canopy of the trees beside the pool. The other photo shows the Two-tailed Pasha, the biggest of them all, perched on the hand of our son, Patrick a couple of days ago, when I returned from a two week trip abroad. The Two-tailed Pasha's larval food plant is the strawberry tree, a common native species here (and I have planted five specimens in the garden), but what attracts the adults is rotting fruit and as the fig season approaches I suspect we shall see many more of this magnificent butterfly.

Waders moving through

2010-07-20T15:53:00.000+02:00

In my last blog I described hearing a Green Sandpiper over the garden in the middle of a warm night..this morning I visited my favourite spot in the nearby rice fields to see what waders were starting to appear. I left the house before dawn, seeing a Red-necked Nightjar settled on the road leading out of the village. I reached my destination just as the sun was rising, showering a golden light over the lush green paddies. Practically all of the fields are deep in growing rice and apart from White Storks, Cattle Egrets, Little Egrets and a few Black-winged Stilt and Lapwing, it is hard to see very much amongst the crop. It is deceptive, because large flocks of Mallard with a few Teal flew up from these fields, where they had been feeding overnight, quite invisible. Much more productive would be the the few fields which for some reason had been left muddy with no crop. Open wet mud...ideal for waders. These indeed were thronging with birds...lots of Black-winged Stilts (I counted at least 350) with a small number of juvenile birds as well (see the photo..taken this morning) which were presumbaly from local pairs. About 40 Collared Pratincole, again with barred juveniles present. An astonishing number of Little Ringed Plover (at least 370 in three adjacent fields), along with four Kentish Plovers. I wondered if these again were local birds, concentrating here because of the ideal conditions, or whether some of these were from further afield. Gull-billed Terns hawked overhead and a post-breeding party of about 70 Calandra Lark flew over.

However, it was the waders on passage from further afield that I always find most intriguing here, deep as we are in inland Spain, and I was not disappointed: Greenshank, Redshank, Green, Wood and Common Sandpipers, Ringed Plover, Ruff, Black-tailed Godwit, Dunlin, even a single Whimbrel. A total of 14 species of wader all told..and autumn passage is only just starting!

Sleeping under the stars

2010-07-10T17:01:00.000+02:00

After our short holiday to see family in England, we are now back in Extremadura. It is the height of summer and the hottest time of the year. At the moment we are hitting daily maxima of 38 degrees Celsius and at night time it is staying around 26 degrees. Life is very different when it is like this. There is plenty of work to do, (although July is always very quiet as far as bookings are concerned) what with the garden and catching up with chores and maintenance of the house. The vegetable garden is having a great year and since returning from holiday, I have been busy picking and freezing dwarf beans and runner beans. It looks as if we will have a bumper crop of tomatoes, so each evening I need to tend and water them. However, any outdoor work needs careful planning and days here when it is hot follow a clear routine. Up with the sunrise (around 6 am) and try to get as much outdoor work done as possible before late morning. The dawn chorus is now reduced to the sound of our huge House Sparrow roost waking up and the calls from the swallows coming to drink at the swimming pool, along with the calls of Golden Oriole and Hawfinch. By late morning it is getting too hot to be outside and literally dozens of House Martins, Barn Swallows and Red-rumped Swallows are resting in the shade under the eaves or, amazingly sunning themselves on a ledge on our south-facing frontage, adopting bizarre stupified postures. So to work indoors until lunch and then siesta in the cool darkness of the bedroom. At 5 pm it is approaching the hottest time of the day, but there is nothing like a post-siesta swim in the pool...it leaves one wholly rejuvenated..otherwise I end up feeling a bit like one of those stupified swallows.

Back then to desk work. I have just received from Eling Lee from Hong Kong, some photos that she and her husband took during their stay here in late May. They had come to Spain to see the Inter Milan - Bayern Munich match in Madrid and stayed on for some days birding with me. It was also fairly hot then, but we had a very successful trip. The picture I have posted here is one that Eling took of a Rufous Bush Robin singing from the top of a vine. This species is a very late arriving summer visitor and typically will be found singing even in the hottest time of the day, out in the open in tracts of intensive vineyards and olive groves.

These days we tend to wait until at least 10.30 pm or 11 pm to eat, sitting outside at dusk with a light meal, watching the bats come out. A couple of nights ago, we dragged an airbed out onto the terrace and slept under an amazing back drop of the Milky Way, with a sucession of planets visible during the short night: Venus..Mars..Jupiter...Saturn. Scops Owls called on and off throughout the night and sometimes a Little Owl also was heard. At one point, I heard a Green Sandpiper calling very close by, perhaps attracted by reflections on the pool? These birds are now returning to Extremadura after their brief breeding season in Northern Europe. And just before dawn at least two Red-necked Nightjars gave their chock-chock chorus.

Red-necked Nightjarring

2010-06-06T08:23:00.000+02:00

One evening, as our busy season is ending, no dinners to serve, no washing-up to do, so I slipped out just before dusk to walk ten minutes up the lane near the house. We can hear the Red-necked Nightjars calling from the house from mid-April, at dusk and at dawn and sometimes one will glide across the garden. But to get better views it is best to head for a quiet track between the olive groves, stopping at a point where one's view is reasonably unobstructed. There is something special about being out as night falls and the bats start appearing. As a boy, I would head to a local oak wood, stand at the edge and wait for the roding flight of the Woodcock, that extraordinarily cryptic wader that circles each territory at dusk uttering a series of grunts followed by a loud whip-crack of a call. Sometimes there would be the chance to go "nightjarring", which meant a drive to a forestry plantation to listen to the churring of European Nightjars and the occasional glimpse of this long-winged, long-tailed bird.

Here our nightjars are Red-necked, slightly larger than the European with a very different call: a repetitive "chock-chock". Standing on this track that evening I watched a bird glide over head and then another performing its wing-clapping display. I heard one calling from a holm oak tree and then watched as it flew across my path to settle in another tree to my right. They would be heading off to search for moths, doutless making use of the lamps in the village street (the attached photo was taken by my freind John Hawkins in a nearby village). By now the light was very poor and I made my way back home, pausing to look at a glow-worm on the stone wall and listening the soft hoot of a Long-eared Owl, whilst a Scop's Owl called nearby and Nightingale song filled the bushes. Such evenings are always memorable.

Kaleidoscope of flowers and raptor rapture

2010-05-06T18:38:00.000+02:00

It had been a great day, the morning on the plains with good views of Black-bellied and Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, a bachelor group of 15 Great Bustards, Tawny Pipit, four species of lark and lots of Montagu's Harriers. At lunch we had watched a Little Bustard calling amidst a field of kaleidoscope colours of masses of wild flowers. Then, just as mid-afternoon approached, the temperature was edging upwards and what could very easily have been the quietest part of the day, we had what could only be described as fifteen minutes of sheer magnificence. We had stopped to take a walk, beside a field where hay was being baled. I spotted an immature Golden Eagle, quite low over the back of the field, apparently searching the cut hay for any prey. We watched it as it hunted, with the farmers working the machinery in the foreground. We then heard the barking of a Spanish Imperial Eagle and an immature flew swiftly in from the right, intent on chasing the Golden Eagle away. A pursuit ensued, the slightly smaller Spanish Imperial Eagle mobbing the Golden Eagle vigorously. As we watched them, something caught my eye above us. It was another Golden Eagle, this time an adult, soaring above us. We then noticed that below it was another juvenile Golden Eagle! Three in the sky at the same time!

A second juvenile Spanish Imperial Eagle arrived on the scene and flew low and rather heavily to the left and then back again in front of us. Less than a minute later an adult Bonelli's Eagle flew past, chasing the imperial! Above us a second Bonelli's appeared soaring high amongst Griffon Vultures. The first Bonelli's returned, giving us a superb flypast.

It had been a great day for raptors, earlier we had seen two Bonelli's Eagles, four Short-toed Eagles and four Booted Eagles..so all five eagle species, and ten other raptor species as well! What a day!

Meeting the challenge

2010-04-28T15:59:00.000+02:00

Sometimes people ask me to guide for a full week, which is great because it means that we can visit the full range of habitats at hand, revisit special sites and if we miss a species at one place, there will also be an opportunity of going to other places where I know the species occurs. Other people book me for a day, which usually means a short visit to the plains followed by Monfragüe National Park for raptors. Usually we find everything that we want, sometimes because of weather or simply the unpredictability of wild birds, we fail on one or two species...that's birding. I have just completed two day's guiding for Steve and Rochelle who came with some very specific requests: Black-winged Kite, Great Bustard, Collared Pratincole, Pin-tailed and Black-bellied Sandgrouse, Great Spotted Cuckoo, Roller, Golden Oriole and Eagle Owl. That was my challenge for last Sunday and yesterday (Tuesday)...on Monday they did their own thing.

Day One: Sandgrouse can be tricky so first thing on Sunday morning we went to a favourite spot of mine, where I had seen both species a few days' earlier. As we arrived a distant Great Spotted Cuckoo flew across a field, whilst a male Little Bustard stood and called. Stopping to scan, I found two displaying male Great Bustards, with a few females close by. We had arrived early enough to avoid the heat haze and the views were magnificent. Whilst watching them, I heard and then saw two Black-bellied Sandgrouse dropping into a nearby field. We headed in that direction and quickly found them, along with about ten others. The heat shimmer was starting, but we could watch them reasonably well as they foraged in the short vegetation of a fallow field. Fortunately, six Pin-tailed Sandgrouse came in to land beside them...that was good luck!

We then moved onto another area of open ground where nestboxes have been put on telegraph poles for Rollers. A Roller was perched on a cable nearby. It flew towards a box, seemingly occupied by Jackdaws. Its mate flew in to join it and then ensued a noisy interaction between the Rollers and the slightly larger Jackdaws. The Rollers sought to displace the Jackdaws, which sat resolutely on the roof of the box, one curiously striking the roof with its bill, making a knocking sound. Great views.

From there to a reservoir, usually a good haunt for Collared Pratincole. I saw one fly away as we arrived, but the views were poor. The water level was very high and the island usually occupied by nesting pratincoles was under water. We decided to drive along a track along the opposite shore. We stopped and watched as about six Collared Pratincoles flew close by, some of them settling on a small spit alongside a group of Litle Tern. So far so good.

Then to Monfragüe and after lunch at my favourite picnic site to watch nesting Griffon Vultures and Egyptian Vultures, we headed to a site called Portilla del Tiétar. It is wonderful spot, and to the north the snow-capped Gredos mountains were visible. As we walked to the viewpoint, my attention was drawn to a small swift flying low overhead with a rapid wing beat. As I watched it twisted and turned a few times, showing well its narrow white-rump. White-rumped Swifts do not usually arrive until May..this was an exceptionally early arrival. We did not have to wait long before a fine adult Spnaish Imperial Eagle appeared from the north, carrying a large snake. It flapped rather laboriously, making slow soars before disappearing from view. We stayed on for an hour or so, carefully scanning the rock face in front of us for Eagle Owl, but with no success. However, very pleased with the day's results, we headed back home, stopping briefly at the Salto de Gitano viewpoint in Monfragüe where we were not only rewarded with another Spanish Imperial Eagle, but also a second White-rumped Swift, this time high about the rock face opposite.

Day Two: We had Black-winged Kite, Golden Oriole and Eagle Owl still on the needed list, but I also wanted Steve and Rochelle to have better views of Great Spotted Cuckoo. So first thing we headed to a particularly good area for them, and a pair was seen flying past just as we entered the area. We could not find any others, so we returned to the initial spot and back to the main road. The birds reappeared, and luckily I knew of a good pull-of just a hundred metres down the road. There we parked and waited....because the birds were heading in our direction! Over the next few minutes we had wonderul views of three Great Spotted Cuckoos, with interaction between them and Magpies, as well as what seemed to be a territorial spat between the cuckoos themselves. Great!

Then up the road to a site where we found easily a pair of Black-winged Kite which we watched as they perched on dead trees and flew over the fields. From there we went up a beautiful small valley where the trees echoed with the sounds of calling Golden Orioles. At first, we were only getting flight views, but at last a male flew to an exposed perched and gave us superb views.

We then returned home, our plan being to rest a bit in the afternoon and then head out after dinner for another attempt at Eagle Owl. During the afternoon, Steve and Rochelle had a shortwalk, coming back overjoyed having had good views of a Wryneck...a real bonus!

We set off after an early dinner and arrived at the Portilla del Tiétar at just after 8.30 pm, just as an Eagle Owl started to call softly. It stopped shortly afterwards and didn't really resume until after 9.15 pm, by which time the light was starting to fade and the bats had emerged. As it got darker, the frequency and volume of the calls increased: there were clearly two adults and the yelping begging calls of young were also audible. It was a magical experience, hearing the deep hoot resonate across the narrow valley, with the sound of Red-necked Nightjars in the background. Suddenly movement was seen and one of the adults flew north, off to hunt, a large powerful bird, gliding more than flapping. The remaining adult continued calling until it too flew off, this time east and directly low overhead.

That evocative moment was the cue to head back home, our mission well and truly accomplished.

Battling bustards

2010-04-18T12:09:00.000+02:00

The last few days we have been helping as much as we can those guests who have been stranded by the unprecedented air travel closure, so I have had barely time to sit down to write up the blog. But I do want to share with you the fascinating and extraordinary sighting that a guest, Ralph Tiller and I had recently. We had stopped to look at a pair of Little Owls and as I scanned the area, I picked-up what I initially took to be a displaying male Great Bustard nearby. In the 'scope, it was clear that actually "it" was two males, face to face, a few centimetres apart, staring at each other. This face-off continued to the point when they started to fight. It was an aggressive bout, with one bird clasping the other's head with its bill. They tousled and pushed, one forcing the other towards a fence, then close to the ground. Feathers started to fly. Meanwhile, two or three females nonchalantly strode past. Eventually the fight finished with the males separating and heading off in different directions, one appearing slightly wounded around the head.

I had never seen this before, although there is a description of such behaviour written by Nigel Collar in Birds of the Western Paleartic. What was great was that Ralph videoed the whole episode and once I have sorted out the softward, this will be available for you to see!

Menawhile, another few days of windy, wet weather is hanging over us, slowing down the spring migration, but we have been enjoying the sound of a Nightingale singing close to the house, throughout most of the day and night!

Honeyguiding in Extremadura

2010-03-28T22:02:00.000+02:00

Every spring, in March, I help lead a holiday in Extremadura for the small tour company Honeyguide. It is run by Chris Durdin (ex-RSPB) and has a strong conservation ethic. Each year the holiday in Extremadura makes a donation to the Spanish Ornithological Society (this year over 900 euros) and similar support to given to local conservation bodies and projects in all of its destinations. The company has a very loyal client base (indeed all 14 of the members on this year's holiday had been on Honeyguide holidays before) and aims at those who have a broad interest in natural history, so ample time is given not just to birds, but also other animals and plants. We really explore to get a good idea of not just what is around, but also what makes it tick, understanding the landscape, visiting different habitats. Although botanically the spring has been slow, we found almost all of the plants we were hoping for, including six species of orchids and some wonderful specimens of Iberian Fritillary. The generally wet and windy weather made the butterfly list a short one, but we did get excellent views of the Nettle-Tree Butterfly in Monfragüe. We did well on birds with all of the expected migrants in for the date such as Subalpine Warblers, and still some unexpected winter birds like a late flock of 150 Common Crane. In the two of three days since the group returned home, better weather has brought a big flow of migrants: my first Rollers, Bee-eaters and Black-eared Wheatears of the spring for example.

Today, being Palm Sunday, the village gathered at the church, under clear blue skies and warm temperatures, with Bee-eaters calling high over head and the storks on the church belfry looking on. Everyone had brought, instead of palm fronds, bunches of olive branches and rosemary sprigs. It was a moving communal event, firmly based around the typical plants important to the life of the village.

Spring comes rolling in

2010-03-16T21:14:00.000+01:00

I have just completed leading a thoroughly enjoyable and productive six day tour here in Extremadura and after three months of seemingly almost endless rain, the sunny days and blue skies were a blessing indeed. The landscape is emerald green now, with a haze of yellow crucifer, with clumps of wild narcissus. We did extremely well for birds, each day producing memorable highlights: my first Purple Heron of the spring, four Spoonbill flying in a line against a deep blue sky, no fewer than twenty species of birds of prey, a total of 75 Great Bustards and wonderfully close views of Little Bustard in a flower-rich meadow, fifteen species of wader (not bad for the interior of Spain in mid-March), both sandgrouse, no fewer than ten Great Spotted Cuckoo sightings in one morning, eye-level views of Alpine Swifts in the mountains, Pallid Swifts in late afternoon sunshine whilst we sat in the main square of Trujillo, a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker drumming near the house literally as we were leaving for the airport, Calandra Larks rising in groups to sing over the plains, a Bluethroat standing tail-cocked beside a ditch in the rice fields, a Penduline Tit singing on a willow tree. Still present were groups of winter birds (Common Crane and Grey Lag Goose) but also a real sense of spring migration underway: groups of Red and Black Kite drifting north, an Osprey arriving to feed in front of us. It was the combination of great company from our guests, amazingly good birding plus the glorious weather that made this trip such a memorable one.

Urban Birding with the Urban Birder

2010-03-05T09:31:00.000+01:00

Mérida is the capital city of Extremadura with a very important Roman heritage. One of the most impressive features is the Roman bridge which spans the Guadiana river right in the centre of the city. As well as an extraordinary historic site, it can also be one of the best places for birding in Extremadura. I was there at dawn on Wednesday with David Lindo (aka the Urban Birder - see his website www.theurbanbirder.com) and his photographer Russell Spencer. David is a passionate advocate of the joys of urban birding, demonstrating what tremendous opportunities there are in towns and cities around the world. Most people live in cities and yet many overlook just what potential there is right on their doorsteps to watch birds and other wildlife. David is a great communicator and on top of that, an outstanding birder - I enjoyed every minute of the two days I had to show David and Russell some of the urban birding opportunities in Extremadura.

In just an hour on the Roman Bridge we had seen Purple Swamphen, Little Bittern, Black-crowned Night Heron, Little and Cattle Egrets, Penduline Tit, Spanish Sparrow, Alpine and Pallid Swifts, as well as great views of Cetti's Warbler, amongst others. An impressive host of species for any site, but here we were in the centre of the city, with people passing by all the time on their way to work. We also visited Cáceres and Trujillo to watch White Storks and Lesser Kestrels: towns that are on the ornithological map and holding international status for their conservation value.

We sneaked a quick visit to areas close by as well: hearing the first Common Cuckoo of the spring, watching a male Great Bustard in practice for the courtship season, seeing a juvenile Golden Eagle mobbing Griffon Vultures and bidding farewell to some of the last Common Cranes of the winter as they flew in a skein high above.

Winter Atlas top ten

2010-02-14T07:43:00.000+01:00

On Friday I completed the fieldwork for my allocated survey areas in eastern Extremadura for the Spanish Winter Bird Atlas. As I wrote in my blog of 22nd December, this has been a magnificent way over the last three winters to get know parts of the area that I had rarely visited before, or to explore beyond my regular routes in those patches which I know well. I used the internet to plan routes along little-used paths and tracks and then headed out for a good six hour hike (or slow walk actually) to record every individual of every species of bird detected in the course of 15 minute-long transects (whilst recording habitat type as well). Such were my atlasing days in the field.

The areas that I was assigned to cover included pretty much a good cross-section of the local landscapes: plains, open woodland, scrub, rice fields, olive groves and orchards, uplands and a couple of small water bodies. We will have to wait for the book to be published by SEO (the Spanish Ornithological Society) to see the results and analysis in full, but I have had some fun just adding up my figures.

Over the last three years, I did 420 transects, i.e. 105 hours of formal observation time. On these transects I counted an amazing 34,857 individual birds of a total of 129 species. We also had the chance to note down species that were not detected during the formal transects, such as during other visits to the area, so there were other species like Alpine Accentor, Black Wheatear, Penduline Tit and even Wallcreeper that I found in the 10-km squares but they do not appear in these species lists of formal transect data.

Of the 34,857 birds the top ten in terms of numbers are:

1) Spanish Sparrow (5070 individuals)
2) Lapwing (2453)
3) House Sparrow (2403)
4) Spotless Starling (2080)
5) Common Crane (1807)
6) Chaffinch (1568)
7) Meadow Pipit (1096)
8) Goldfinch (1092)
9) Azure-winged Magpie (1015)
10) Serin (897)

Just taking a quick view through my data shows up some nice habitat associations: where there are olives there are lots of wintering Blackcaps (in such areas Blackcaps are one of the most numerous birds), but they are much less common in other habitats, nevertheless a total of 571 Blackcaps were recorded. I found 610 Robins, 419 wintering Chiffchaff, 358 Corn Bunting and 177 Hoopoes!

But beyond the numbers, I have a rich collection memories from my winter atlasing..birds that I had never before found whilst birding in my area of Extremadura like Fieldfare and Woodcock. Others were birds that the fieldwork gave me a much better sense of their true status here: Bluethroat in the rice fields, Bullfinch (which is a rare wintering visitor (I recorded five individuals, in areas which I had no idea they were present). The key to this was that I was on foot and covering large areas of habitat in forensic detail. And then there are the spectacular sights: the close encounter with Bonelli's Eagles as describd in my blog of 4th February, Golden Eagles mobbed by Ravens, Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers drumming on adjacent telegraph posts, testing the different parts of the structure to get the best resonance, Firecrests hovering amongst the foliage of cork oaks..........

The Winter Atlas fieldwork is completed but next winter I must make sure I continue my explorations on foot.

Close encounter with Bonelli's Eagles

2010-02-05T06:36:00.000+01:00

It was half past one and I had been walking for four and half hours in a remote area of eastern Extremadura doing some fieldwork for the Winter Birds Atlas. I was in a quiet valley, quite wide, with scrub-covered slopes, some rocky outcrops and a strip of alder gallery woodland (full of Siskins) beside the river. This I thought to myself looks good eagle habitat. Just a few minutes later, I heard a loud whooooosh and an object whizzed past me at great speed just a few metres away and close to the ground. My first split-second reaction was that it was a hunting Goshawk, but as I got my binoculars on it, its true identity was obvious: a Bonelli's Eagle. It pounced onto a Red-legged Partridge on valley slope nearby. The partridge flew up, but then a second Bonelli's Eagle arrived, at the same speed as the first, and had a go at it. The eagles had appeared out of nowhere and had been completely oblivious of my presence, so focused were they on their prey. I was simply very close to the end-point of their almighty stoop. It got better. The first eagle flew up from the vegetation and headed in my direction to land on a small pylon barely thirty metres away. Once perched only then did it notice me. For a minute or so it seemed uncertain over what to do, then it flew to the next pylon away, where it was joined by its mate (without the partridge...which presumably got away). The two sat there in the sunshine and then one-by-one flew off, passing low and close to me, giving me, as it were a disapproving look, before slowly gaining height and circling together well above the outcrops. They are truly magnificent birds, my favourite of the eagles, whose shape just spells power and whose presence epitomises rocky, wild areas. They are called in German the Goshawk-Eagle, in Spanish their full name means the partridge-hunting Goshawk-Eagle. They are strategic bird hunters, often working as pairs (I have seen them as a pair ambush flocks of Wood Pigeons, performing perfect pincer tactics), with the female significantly larger than the male (normal with raptors, but especially so amongst the bird hunters such as Merlin, Peregrine, Sparrwohawk and Goshawk).

The experience left me exhilarated, so much so that wading the numbingly icy river a few minutes later was easy...my head was just full of this close encounter, which will remain forever as such a vivid memory. The photo attached was taken last spring by a guest of ours. Mark Mallalieu.

Five days of brilliant birding

2010-01-28T18:19:00.000+01:00

Even by Extremadura standards, the last five days have been hard to beat in terms of sheer birding excellence. It has involved some very different approaches to the art: two days of Winter Atlas survey work meaning walking and recording the number of individuals of every species encountered, two days of guiding where success is measured by the "wow" factor from one's clients and a few hours on the fifth day of simple birding - in this case going through a flock of wintering geese.

The systematic atlas fieldwork yielded no fewer than eleven wintering Bluethroats in the space of an hour and a half, including some very smart males. There were interesting records of waders such as ten Curlew, 70 Avocet, 700+ Dunlin, raptors like Merlin, Golden Eagle, Hen Harrier and fascinating totals like 98 different Chiffchaff seen on my walk through the rice fields. In the woodland, on a bitterly cold morning, the very first bird seen was a female Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, followed by a singing Woodlark, followed by a Kingfisher! I kept bumping into Firecrests and later on I found a flock of 40 Cirl Bunting.

I was able to show some of the Bluethroats to our guest, Mark, as well on our first day together the huge flocks of Cranes and Grey Lag Geese. We saw a Great Spotted Cuckoo, a group of about 40 Little Bustard, Black-bellied Sandgrouse, Red-crested Pochard and copulating Black-winged Kites. The second day started wonderfully with a fine flock of thirty Great Bustard standing on the skyline of a field with the spectacular backdrop of the snow-clad Villuercas mountains and the castle of Trujillo. The area also yielded 70 Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, another Great Spotted Cuckoo and two Merlin. We then headed to the Monfragüe National Park, seeing an overwintering Black Stork en route. At Monfragüe both Griffon and Black Vultures were finding weak thermals near the massive cliffs beside the River Tajo, we got great views of several Hawfinch and were joined at lunch by hungry, inquisitive Azure-winged Magpies. But pride of place must go the superb spectacle that we enjoyed in the winter sunshine, watching a pair of Spanish Imperial Eagle at close range, performing their aerial courtship, collecting nest material from the hillside and being mobbed by a pair of Ravens - until the tables were turned and the harried eagle divebombed the corvid! At one moment the pair were joined in the sky by a juvenile Imperial: three in sight at the same time.

Then today, for an hour or so I took myself down to the embanked pool at Casas del Hito, at the edge of the ricefields. The purpose of this was to try to find the Cackling Goose (also known as Richardson's Goose) which had been found earlier in the month and had been seen again last Sunday. It is the second record for Spain
(see http://www.rarebirdspain.net/arbsr000.htm#Brahut)
and for me a lifer as well. Luckily a good number (about 500) Grey Lag Geese were swimming on the pool (there were also several thousand more feeding on adjacent rice stubble). I got myself into a good position to scan the flock and the light was perfect. After about ten minutes, I found this attractive small goose. Very distinctive, shorter-necked than a Canada Goose, with a steep forehead, and small dark bill. The cheek patch seemed to have a slight buffish wash, indeed the whole plumage had a warm tone. After having some excellent views of it, I continued to check through the geese and found three Greater White-fronted Geese, a rare visitor which had not been previously reported this winter. Pleased with both these sightings I started my return home, stopping to look at a group of waders on a paddy: four Wood Sandpiper, with a further six on the next field. They must be overwintering birds, I guess, and very unusual.

I cannot think of a more complete or more fulfilling collection of birding activities, really making the very best of our brilliant winter bird watching.

Murmurings of spring

2010-01-22T06:52:00.000+01:00

Although spring is not really deemed to have started until mid-February around here, there are the first clear signs of its forthcoming arrival. I did see some House Martins and Barn Swallows at the turn of the year, feeding alongside Crag Martins at the reservoir of Arrocampo, but these may have been overwintering individuals. But the Swallows that I have seen over the last few days, both over the garden as well as in nearby Trujillo are much more likely to be new arrivals. Our guests saw a Great Spotted Cuckoo yesterday, which is always one of the first species to return from Africa. In sheltered, sunny spots the first wild narcissus should be in flower and so should the almond trees (although the ones in our garden are always a little late). What clinched it for me happened last night. Patrick and I were looking at Mars through the telescope: very bright in the eastern sky. Whilst outside in the dark, we could hear the Nightjar-like churring of Natterjack Toads..how the evenings change from the relative silence of mid-winter to the chorus of courting in the spring is such a landmark.

Rain galore but still some good birds

2010-01-05T08:22:00.000+01:00

Normally in mid-winter here we can expect some rain, but also long periods of settled fine weather which is a real joy to be out in - especially good for getting sightings of displaying eagles. This year however, we have had rain for almost every day over the last three weeks. I have just completed taking two guests, Peter and Vana, out birding for five days. We have had gale force winds, storms, torrential rain. Never before have I had to resort sitting in a steamed-up car to have lunch on one of these trips: we had to do it twice! Roads have been flooded, rivers are at full spate and the amount of standing water in the fields has been amazing.

For a guide under these conditions, one faces the prospects with some trepidation to say the least. Effective birding time is severely reduced and some birds will be very hard to find. Fortunately the local weather forecast was accurate enough for me to plan the itinerary to fit in with what the weather would throw at us: it is best to be in open-country (the steppes and ricefields) on the worst of the days, pick Monfragüe for raptors when there is a chance of some sunny spells, even if it will be very windy, and avoid woodland until the best day when the wind is low and it is not raining hard.

Overall it worked and even though we missed a few species, we did much better than I had expected. The good thing about guests from the UK is that they do not mind being out in the rain and we were all well kitted out. The highlights? Crane numbers at their mid-winter peak (we must have seen well over 10,000 in one day), the largest number of winter Grey Lag Geese that I can recall, three fine Ruddy Shelduck (origin unknown), good numbers of Little Bustard, groups of Great Bustard, big flocks of Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, excellent views of Bonelli's and Spanish Imperial Eagle, lots of Marsh and Hen Harriers, a stunning male Bluethroat, Purple Swamphen, masses of Lapwing and Golden Plover, some Curlew (which are very uncommon here), exquisite views of Firecrest, superb views of Black Wheatear, overwintering House Martin and Barn Swallow, two Otter sightings and, what is always a wonderful feature of wintering birding, the sheer numbers of small birds: Corn Bunting, Calandra Lark, Skylark, Chiffchaff, Spanish Sparrow. But for all of us what was probably the most memorable sighting occurred on New Year's Eve. There was a gale blowing and we had stopped at a small reservoir on the plains. A more exposed place you could hardly imagine. At the inlet of the reservoir there is a small patch of reedmace ("bulrush"), many with seed heads which were being tossed around in the wind. I heard the thin call of Penduline Tit, but assumed that under these conditions, anything more than a fleeting glimpse would be out of the question. It flew from close by and dropped into the vegetation. That's our view, I thought, but still checked the area carefully. Unbelievably, this remarkable little bird was relocated at the top of a swaying seed head, happily feeding away. What is more we got our telescopes onto it and were able to enjoy fabulous views. It then moved to another seed head, we found it again in the 'scopes amd then realised that on an adjacent plant there was a second Penduline Tit. They are great birds to see at the best of times, but under these conditions, these views are some which I will never forget.

Winter Atlasing

2009-12-23T07:53:00.000+01:00

We are now in the third and final year of the Winter Atlas fieldwork in Spain (organised by SEO/BirdLife). It has been a real highlight of the winter for me. I am doing seven 10 km squares and visits to each entail about a six hour walk along paths or tracks, counting every single bird seen or heard and estimating whether it is within 25 metres of the path or not. Add to this a description of the habitat every fifteen minutes and you can imagine the amount of information that is being gathered. This then gets put on the computer and sent on-line to Madrid. I think that the results will be fascinating, giving us a picture of not just where different species occur in the winter across Spain, but also their relative abundance and habitat preferences.

The planning is quite complicated. There is no point doing this type of survey work if it is raining, very windy or foggy...because this would create bias in the detectability of birds (they will be harder to count). I also avoid going out on the days that there will be hunters out shooting. I do not want to put myself at risk quietly walking down small paths in wooded areas where shooting is going on: this means weekends and Thursdays are out (the days that hunting takes place here in the winter).

At the personal level it offers discoveries on many levels. To cover each 10 km square thoroughly takes me along paths and tracks I have never walked on before, I discover routes along valleys and across mountains...it truly does take me off my regular birding "beaten track" which is no bad thing. Counting everything has also given me a much better idea of the status of birds locally: be it the number of wintering Bluethroat and Snipe on the ricefields or Blackcaps in the olive groves. I have also come across birds which are highly under-recorded in this area, such as Woodcock and Bullfinch (considered quite a rare winter visitor, but I have found it on three of my squares so far).

There are also the great memories that come from seeing quite special things, even of common birds: a Dartford Warbler searching for trapped tiny insects on a bank of snow, a delightful party of eight Common Chiffchaff feeding on the ground together, a flock of 80 Serins that one could hear from across a huge field...

Yes, I am looking forward to this third field season of Winter Atlas work very much.

Crane Festival in Extremadura

2009-12-07T11:19:00.000+01:00

This weekend saw the culmination of the first Crane Festival in Extremadura, sponsored by the Extremadura Tourist Board and with support from SEO/BirdLife and other NGOs. The activities were focused around Moheda Alta, an information and visitors centre in the heart of the most important wintering area for cranes in Extremadura. According to the 2007 census, about 80,000 cranes winter in Extremadura (about 30% of the total European population) and about half of these occur in this central zone, about half an hour from where we live, attracted by the choice of rice stubble, maize stubble and the traditional acorn crop of the dehesa holm oaks on which to feed.

I was involved on both days taking coach parties of visitors from Cáceres and Trujillo to enjoy what the Festival would have to offer. First stop was the Sierra Brava reservoir. This hosts one of the largest concentrations of waterfowl in Spain (third place after the Coto Doñana and the Ebro Delta - and given its much smaller size, the actual number of birds per unit area will be highest on Sierra Brava). Here, somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000 duck, mainly dabbling duck, spend the winter. These too are attracted to the stubble fields, where they feed during the night, spending the day roosting on the reservoir. The sight is remarkable, a vast carpet of duck quietly resting. We then entered the rice growing area and soon large feeding groups of cranes were seen. We had sightings too of Black-winged Kites - this is one of the best places in Extremadura to see this attractive bird.

At Moheda Alta, we took the visitors on guided walks and there were stands, exhibitions, talks, activities for children and a local folk dancing group. Throughout the day, parties of cranes flew across the Festival grounds, at one point joined by a soaring Golden Eagle. Probably about 500 people took part over the two days, not bad for the first event of its type and I am sure that the organisers will be encouraged to make this an annual event. It is very important to build up interest amongst the people of the area about this wonderful bird, which already has such a high profile in the culture and folklore of peoples in northern Europe. It would the great to see links between the Festival here and similar events elsewhere in Europe. Cranes are such a prominent part of the winter scene in Extremadura, yet the most important roosting site of all is under threat from two large thermal solar plants.

On both days in the late afternoon, we repaired to a vantage point offering a superb view of the ricefields, dehesa and sierras in the background. As darkness fell, large parties of Grey Lag Goose (several thousand in all) flew from the feeding grounds to roost on nearby reservoirs. Skeins and lines of Cranes started crossing the sky, hundreds and hundreds, the adults giving their bugling call, the young birds their higher-pitched whistles. It is without doubt one of the most beautiful spectacles nature has to offer.

A very late Woodchat Shrike and displaying Black-winged Kites

2009-11-20T11:52:00.000+01:00

Another two superb days in the field, with some surprises and memorable sightings. The day before yesterday we ventured out on the plains to the west of us. It is curious how varied the landscape is at the moment in terms of "greenness". After the long dry summer we have had very few days of rain this autumn and most of the open ground has the barest of flushes of new growth. Farmers are still having to provide supplementary feed. Yet to the north of Trujillo there is a zone stunning in its autumnal beauty of emerald green grass and yellow crucifers in bloom. Our friend that lives there is convinced that it is thanks to some localised showers that missed the rest of us.

Most of our route was through drier terrain. At our first stop we found two groups of Great Bustard (37 birds in total) and watched a sky seemingly full of a flock of about 100 Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, which split into a myriad of smaller parties (twos and threes) circling and calling. A Carrion Crow was an unusual record here, but one frequented the area last year, so perhaps it is the same individual returning. We next visited a beautiful rocky valley where a pair of Bonelli's Eagles watched us from the top of a pylon. Out on the plains again, we came across two more parties of Pin-tailed Sandgrouse and a couple of Black-bellied Sandgrouse too, but what was most surprising was an adult Woodchat Shrike which fly across the road in front of us and then found again perched on a fence nearby, close enough for a photo to be taken. Up until now the latest ever recorded in Extremadura was late September, so this is an extraordinarily late bird. Close by we watched a female Merlin feeding on what was probably a Meadow Pipit on the ground. We spent the best part of the afternoon beside a small reservoir where a few Cranes rested along with Cormorants and Black-headed Gulls. But the highlight undoubtedly was the family of three Otters which were enchanting as they played on a grassy bank, tumbling over each other, play-biting and chasing each other. We completed the day in another stretch of steppe, finding more Great Bustards and a Common Starling amongst a flock of Spotless Starlings. The Spanish name for the former means "Painted Starling" an apt name for its startlingly attractive winter plumage.

Yesterday was spent in the rice-growing area where the harvest is now almost finished. At this time of year the area is dominated by rice stubble fields, with family parties and some large flocks of Cranes feed. A few White Stork were also present and, following the combines, large flocks of Cattle Egret and Black-headed Gulls. Some fields had been ploughed, attracting small numbers of waders: Kentish and Ringed Plover, a Black-tailed Godwit, Greenshank, Dunlin and Little Stint. We had brief sightings of two or three wintering Bluethroat flying into ditches. A couple of male Hen Harrier and one ring-tail were seen quartering the stubble fields, whilst the embanked pool that I always check had a Black Stork and a Great White Egret. We found three groups of Great Bustard during the day and also enjoyed the sight of a flock of about 50 Little Bustard in flight, turning simultaneously and thus appearing alternately white and brown. So warm was it during the middle of the day that even a Viperine Snake was found basking ona dirt track.

For me the most memorable part of the day was a pair of Black-winged Kite. We watched them perched in separate trees. One then flew to the other and they mated. The male then took off and performed the most beautiful display flight, calling a soft "peee" and rising higher and higher in a wide spiral, performing a hovering, fluttering flight the whole time. It flew higher and higher until we lost sight of it against the clear blue sky.

Bathing Black Vulture

2009-11-17T21:54:00.000+01:00

After being away for almost ten days, it was great to be heading north of Trujillo again with two guests to enjoy a day in Monfragüe National Park. Despite a brief shower en route and some rather threatening low cloud in the morning, the day got progressively brighter and warmer. Stopping first to view the iconic cliff face at Peña Falcón, what struck one was the almost complete absence of vultures in the sky. The reason was simple - all were waiting for the air to warm, because the rockface was full of birds. Indeed marking the skyline, the perimeter, as it were, of the cliff, was a row of vultures, each equidistant from each other. As the sun broke through the cloud, many spread-eagled their wings, tilting the angle to maximise the surface exposed to the warmth.

We progressed through the park and had a lengthy stay at the wonderful Portilla del Tiétar. A skein of Cranes flew over as we arrived. It is such a peaceful spot and their trumpeting echoed across the gorge. Vultures circled above us and for a few minutes were joined by a fine Spanish Imperial Eagle, the sun catching its forewing, making the white leading edge appear almost luminous. We spent at least two hours happily watching the wheeling vultures, and, as it does in such situations, the conversation kept returning to these birds. "Had I ever seen a vulture drink?" I thought about it - "No, never" I replied. There are some birds that one rarely if ever see drinking, yet vultures are very unlikely to do it under the cover of dusk, as they try to avoid being airbourne early or late during the day, and yet here in Monfragüe where there must be at least two thousand individual vultures, one does not see even one coming down to drink. What do they do? The thought stuck in my mind as we proceeded to the next stop.

I got out of the car and almost immediately noticed a movement at some distance along the river bank. I checked it with the telescope. It was a Black Vulture splashing about in the water. Not drinking exactly, but bathing. It was the first time I had seen this happen. We watched it go in the water at least four times, and then it hopped up the bank and spread-eagled its wings to dry the sodden feathers. No matter how many times one can visit a place like Monfragüe, there will always be something new.

Quinces and Garden Warbler

2009-11-02T18:31:00.000+01:00

One of the joys about living here are the quince trees. We have several dotted around the garden and although like everything here they have suffered in the drought, so many of the fruits were much smaller than normal, I picked enough over the weekend to make 28 jars of Quince Jam and to freeze four kilos for cooking next year. Quinces look a bit like large yellow apples, but they cannot be eaten raw as they are almost as hard as rocks. In Spain the favourite preparation is a Quince (or Membrillo) "cheese" : a stiff, amber-coloured jelly which goes brilliantly with real cheese, traditionally a good Manchego. We found an easy recipe for Quince Jam which has become a favourite for our guests. Claudia has also invented a delicious dessert of stewed Quinces, which is superb with a dollop of cream. So most of what seemed like the last weekend of summer (ridiculously high temperatures for the start of November) was spent stirring boiling jam in the preserving pan and filling jam jars. Today, the weather has changed. It is a good ten degrees cooler with a fresh northerly wind. I spent the day indoors as well, catching up on paper work. Taking a break to prepare lunch I stood at my favourite spot indoors: by the kitchen window. Just a few metres away a Hawfunch was gorging itself on the cypress cones, along with a bright-looking Greenfinch almost dwarfed in size. A couple of wintering Blackcaps pecked at olives, a fine male Black Redstart perched on the stone wall whilst a party of House Sparrows pecked at a clump of weeds. Something else was there too: a Garden Warbler finding small insects to feed on. That was quite extraordinary. I see Graden Warblers in the garden as part of the autumn passage in August and September, but this bird is, I think, almost a month later than the latest ever recorderd in Extremadura. All this whilst waiting for the kettle to boil!

Wolf watching in Zamora

2009-10-27T20:40:00.000+01:00

Last weekend I went with my son Patrick to the province of Zamora (in Castille y Leon) to stay with some Dutch friends in the village of Villanueva de Valrojo, on the edge of the Sierra de la Culebra reserve. Zamora holds one of the highest densities of Wolf, outside Alaska and Siberia, and there are sites near the village which offer one the best chances of seeing this magnificent, but very shy, animal. Within a couple of hours of arriving we were positioned on a hillside, overlooking an expanse of heathland and a pine wood. Rangers put out carcases from time to time at the edge of the wood and from the number of Griffon and Black Vultures present, it was obvious that a carcase had been placed there recently.

The view from our vantage point was superb. In the distance were the peaks of the Sierra de la Cabrera, in the foreground the mosaic of heathland, woodland, rough pasture and small stubble fields providing Wolves both cover and hunting grounds. Two alert Red Deer appeared on the heath, making their way with great caution across the open ground, somehow seeing much more alert that those that I am used to seeing in Monfragüe National Park, where, alas, there are no longer Wolves.

Suddenly my friend whispered "lobo" (wolf) and there, along the edge of the pinewood, I saw my first Wolf. It was a large male and it sauntered along in the open ground. It disppeared behind a pine tree and then we found it again, this time a few metres inside the pinewood, pulling at the ribs of the carcase. Despite the falling light and our distance, the views were incredible. Somehow, seeing the wolf inside the wood this time added more magic, as often we saw just fractions of its body behind the tree trunks. Patrick was excited, especially when he saw it do a "poo" (I missed that!).

It slinked off into the wood and darkness fell. We were to go out the following morning and evening, but we did not see another Wolf. During our stay we had views of Otter, Fox and Red Deer, as well as a good selection of birds such as Crossbill and Firecrest. But the highlight of course was the Wolf, a top predator in a open, unfenced landscape - it was easy to see why this region is such a stronghold. Just a few days beforehand the prize-winning photo of an Iberian Wolf jumping over a gate at night had been published by the BBC Natural History magazine, it had whetted the appetite for our visit and we left supremely satisfied.

The Cranes are back

2009-10-16T20:21:00.000+02:00

I have been away since late September and travelled back this morning by bus from Madrid, leaving at dawn (8 am here!) and heading south-west on the motorway towards Trujillo. It was a glorious autumn morning and as we approached Extremadura so the landscape became greener - that wonderful flush of green that even just a couple days of autumn rain can entice from the soil. Claudia picked me up just past 11 am in Trujillo and took me back home. It felt that I had been away for ages and it was good to be back. Just as I was getting out of the car the unmistakeable bugling of passing cranes could be heard. The sky was completely cloudless and it took a bit of time to find the distant birds against the intense blue. Soon we could hear some more, this time a lot closer. A party of perhaps a hundred, momentarily disorientated, circling in a pack before two or three figured out the correct direction and thus formed an irregular skein, proceeding southwards. During the next few hours several more parties came over. Claudia told me that she had heard cranes passing over for a few days now, but these were my first of the autumn and on my first day back! What a welcome! For me, the day I see the first cranes of the autumn is always one of the top days of the year, and what makes it so special is that invariably they will be flying over our home against an azure sky.

Moving the firewood and other autumn tales

2009-09-27T09:19:00.000+02:00

Some absolutely superb autumn days with the air crystal clear and without a cloud in the sky. A very good time to move the four tons of encina (holm oak) wood that we bought in the spring and had been soaking up the sun during the summer to covered storage, in advance of autumn rains. There is no shortage of firewood here. Much of this part of Extermadura is covered by the characteristic open grazing woodland, called dehesa. Each of the millions of holm oak trees that dominate this landscape is pruned every ten to fifteen years, with boughs and branches sawn off to open the canopy and to encourage a more horizontal growth. This provides more shade for the animals, keeps the tree short enough to manage easily, will encourage fresh growth and more acorns, as well as yielding huge amounts of wood for firewood and charcoal production. Four tons is enough to last us two winters, but we did a deal with Fernando the neighbour, so that this year he will take half.

So a couple of mornings ago, Fernando and I were joined by another neighbour, Geoff (who hails from the Midlands, but now lives in the village and is known locally as Paco – because no one can pronounce his real name) and his son-in-law Dai. Loading up the back of Paco’s van we moved two tons to Fernando’s yard and then two tons to the entrance of our firewood shed. The whole operation took 90 minutes. Fernando then invited us over for refreshments: cold beers, local goat’s cheese, home-made chorizo sausage and local tomatoes. The refreshments took a further 45 minutes – which I feel is a fair distribution of time! I now have this winter’s firewood wonderfully dry and well protected.

As well as that, I have been taking guests out into the field. On one day this week to the Monfragüe National Park where we had glorious views of an adult Bonelli’s Eagle against a clear blue sky, as well as two White-rumped Swift, Egygtian Vulture, Short-toed Eagle and Black Stork – remaining summer migrants. The transition from summer and autumn was well evident with some juvenile Griffon Vultures still being fed at the nest, whilst Red Deer stags were rutting. Myths that pigs do not swim were well put to rest by the fine sight of a female Wild Boar and two piglets swimming the width of the Tajo river.

On another day we visited the plains to the west of Trujillo. Highlights included an adult Golden Eagle, several Great Bustard and a flock of over 30 Black-bellied Sandgrouse, a Black Wheatear in a rocky river valley, but most memorable was the sheer abundance of passage migrants: Northern Wheatear, Whinchat, Willow Warbler, Pied Flycatcher and some male Common Redstarts as almost constant companions on the roadside fences as we followed our route through the day. It really has been an amazing autumn for these migrants.

Evening at the rice fields

2009-09-17T13:22:00.000+02:00

Well autumn has come and we are enjoying a significant drop in temperature, fresher westerly breezes and showers of rain. Yesterday I headed out to the rice fields with our friend John Hawkins. He and his wife, Anthea, have a holiday home close to Trujillo. John is an excellent photographer and many of his bird photos grace themselves on our website and blog. We made our visit in the late afternoon, which even just a few days ago would have been considered an unproductive time because of the heat. Yesterday, it was just perfect with a glorious evening light bathing the paddies and the cleanness of the air ensuring that we had superb views of the Villuercas mountains as a back drop.

The pool that I regularly check was very low, and doubtless because of the concentration of fish in the shallows, had attracted several anglers. At first glance it appeared almost bird-less, but as we checked the edges of the remaining flashes of water we picked up a nice variety of waders, no great numbers (almost everything in single figures) but a total of 13 species, including Temminck’s Stint, Little Stint and Wood Sandpiper. A couple of Spoonbills flew in to settle there as we watched, whilst over the bank hovered a Black-winged Kite. Beyond, over the rice fields flock of 13 Glossy Ibis circled round. This is species invariably turns up here in September, often in double figures, presumably on passage or dispersal, perhaps from the Coto Doñana? We do not know for sure.

There were Willow Warblers seemingly everywhere, and good numbers too of Pied and Spotted Flycatcher, as well as Whinchat. A pale-phase Booted Eagle circled overhead, whilst a ringtail and a juvenile Montagu’s Harrier quartered the fields. As we left, a nice group of Yellow Wagtails and two Wood Sandpipers foraged together in a damp field, and about twenty Little Bustard gathered around broken straw bales on a dry sheep pasture. Further along, a group of ten Great Bustard had started to feed in a stubble field. The sun was setting and parties of White Storks drifted to their autumn roosts at the same time as Black-headed and Lesser Black-backed Gulls were on a bee-line for the Sierra Brava reservoir.

Is summer coming to an end?

2009-09-12T20:03:00.000+02:00

Coming back after ten days away, the heat that has been such a feature of this long summer still persisted. Whilst I had been away, there had been a fire at the entrance of the village, spreading across several fields on both sides of the main road, encircling a house and the tiny village cementery. The herbaceous vegetation will quickly recover, but I wonder how the trees that were affected will fare. Time will tell. The countryside is a tinderbox and in a way it is surprising that fires are not more common. Most people here take great care.

Just the last couple of days, we have had a couple of thunderstorms and there is a slight freshness in the morning, signalling perhaps that the edge is coming off the heat and autumn will be arriving. It is overdue.

Birdwise, autumn passage is at full strength here. Out on the plains, semi-deserts now, there are many Northern Wheatears and Whinchats, plus a few Tawny Pipits. When I was out there three mornings ago, I came across Willow Warblers as well, hopping on the ground amongst the withered and sparse vegetation. Great Bustards stalked the lanscape, bills agape panting, whilst Black-bellied and Pin-tailed Sandgrouse came to drink to water in a deeply-escavated dew-pond nearby. Later that day I went to the Monfragüe National Park, in the middle of the day Red Deer and Wild Boar were coming to the river to wade belly-deep and to drink. One invariably stops first at the iconic cliff of Peña Falcón, where always Griffon Vultures will be present. A Short-toed Eagle spent the entire duration of my visit perched on a rock close-by whilst I was pleased to find a Black Wheatear right at the top of the cliff opposite. This rock-loving species can be found quite readily at a number of sites near us, but in all these years, I have seen it at Peña Falcón less than half a dozen times.

The wooded habitat in the park was providing feeding grounds for Common Redstart, Pied and Spotted Flycatchers: all on passage.

Back at Monfragüe today, no sign of the Black Wheatear at Peña Falcón, but a delightful party of a dozen White-rumped Swifts. This is the largest group I have seen there of this rare (but probably unrecorded) swift which nests in disused Red-rumped Swallow nests. It is one of the last summer breeding species to arrive in Extremadura (usually in second week of May) but can still be seen into October. We had fine views of all three vulture species and at the northern viewpoint of Portilla del Tiétar, three Black Stork circled just above us. There I had another surprise, a juvenile Purple Heron flying past - the first I had seen in Monfragüe National Park and quite out-of-place to see in a rocky river valley. But that is migration, things pass through and can turn up where you least expect them sometimes, which is what makes birding at this time of year so rewarding.

Migrants moving through

2009-08-29T19:06:00.000+02:00

I was away in the UK for a week to attend the amazing British Birdwatching Fair at Rutland last weekend and stay on a few days so see my parents in Norfolk. It was two evenings when I got back home, finding Extremadura as hot and as dry as I had left it. Such high temperatures so late in the summer are unusual. This morning I headed again to the rice fields to see how the wader passage was doing. Getting the best of the morning always requires a flexible strategy, because fields that were muddy and damp on my last visit, may be overgrown this time and much less good for birds, whereas unproductive areas previously may spring surprises. So it was this time, with fields which had been thronging with birds a month ago, now hardly worth more than a few minutes checking. The best area was the large pool, surrounded by an embankment. There was very little water, but the flashes that were there had a quite a good selection of waders: a couple of Temminck’s Stints, some Little Stint, Dunlin, Wood Sandpiper and Kentish Plover. A single Collared Pratincole remained. On the embankment, the sparse vegetation was thronging with Willow Warblers (passage migrants here). I counted no fewer than six preening on a small bare tree. Calls of Nightingale and Great Reed Warbler came from denser growth. Several juvenile Woodchat Shrikes were also around. I looked down from the embankment onto a rice field which had some small open areas, watching foraging Little Ringed Plovers, along with a Yellow Wagtail and a Tree Pipit. As I returned along the stony tracks, a small party of Short-toed Lark flew up in front of me whilst further ahead were two juvenile Montagu’s Harriers, sitting on the ground at the edge of the track, distinctive with their orangey under parts and pale border to their facial discs. Groups of Bee-eaters were lining up on the fences. Friends tell me that Spotted Flycatchers, Pied Flycatchers and Common Redstart are now moving through, so they are bound to start appearing in the garden any day now.

Visitors to the garden

2009-08-16T13:00:00.000+02:00

Here we feel that autumn has arrived by the middle of August. It is still hot and sunny (maximum temperatures here will probably be in the thirties every day for next week or so), but the nights are lengthening and there is a freshness at dawn. Providing most evidence for the change in season are the birds. Last month in a blog I described the start of the autumn wader passage. On a my most recent visit to the rice fields nearby, there were small numbers of Little Stint now featuring amongst the Wood Sandpipers and Ruff, as well as a party of very early Common Snipe. Bright yellow juvenile Willow Warblers were foraging in the bushes, along with Sedge Warblers: both passage species here.

But the autumn passage is also visible much close to home. Because of the drought this year, the garden (watered from our own bore-hole) has become a little green, moist oasis. Almost exactly a year to the date of making a first-ever appearance on the garden-list, a Western Bonelli’s Warbler has again been around the garden. This attractive little bird nests in Extremadura in higher zones in the mountains: who knows whether this special garden visitor hails from local populations or from further north. What is certain is that it will be here just for a few days, before continuing its journey southwards. Today a Common Whitethroat was also present, a new species for our garden. Puddles on the path bring a wonderful medley of thirsty birds: Hawfinch, Short-toed Treecreeper, Blackbirds, House Sparrows, Azure-winged Magpies and Nightingales. Sitting at first light, binoculars at the ready, a mug of tea on the ground beside me, wondering what migrant visitor may make an appearance today – a great way to start the day!

A summer evening birding on the steppes

2009-07-30T23:28:00.000+02:00

I spent yesterday evening doing bits of business in Trujillo, and finishing at 9pm headed to snatch the last hour of daylight out on the plains of Belén, just twenty minutes from home. One first has to navigate the little village of Belén itself, where the tiny streets twist and bifurcate, like in so many Spanish villages where a moment's lapse in concentration will lead to a wrong turning down a thoroughfare that will narrow right down to a cul-de-sac. Many of these villages appear deserted during the day: the shutters are down and not a soul is visible. They come to life in the evening. Chairs are brought out and the adults sit on the edge of the street (in Belén there is no pavement so this makes the streets even narrower for passing traffic). The children play and where there are benches, at street corners, groups of older men or women (rarely mixed) will sit and gossip. One notices that all the older men and women are more or less the same size and shape: stockier and shorter than their offspring, testament of harder times in the past.

On the road out of the village, I pass small groups taking their evening walks, the famous "paseo", so appreciated in the summer when the heat makes people avoid being out of doors during the day if at all possible.

It was a tad too late as I started to cross the open plains themselves, already post-breeding flocks of Calandra Lark and Corn Bunting were pitching down to roost in areas of taller vegetation. Southern Grey Shrikes flew low over the ground, rising to perch on the roadside fence posts, whilst a Hoopoe caught the evening sunshine to perfection. I was on the look out for Great Bustard and eventually found a small group feeding at sunset on a stubble field, their darkening forms slowly striding across the field. Whilst I watched them, four Black-bellied Sandgrouse fly across my field of view and I follow them, seeing them drop down behind the bank of one of the few pools on the Belén plains with water.

I continue as far as a ruined farm building where I stop and listen. Joining the sound of cowbells, comes the beguiling sound of Stone Curlews, one starting to call and being quickly followed by another. In the gloom, I make out two forms nearby. A pair of Stone Curlew starting to feed, making a series of quick steps, body held horizontal, then stopping either to peck at the ground or to straighten up with head held high. It is a wonderful sight and I watch them as long as I can before the light starts to fade rapidly. Being nocturnal birds, their "day" was only just starting.

Returning home, I see four more Stone Curlew in flight, crossing the horizon in front of the silhouette of iconic Spanish cattle against a vivid evening sky.

28 July 2009

2009-07-28T21:31:00.000+02:00

Birdingextremadura blog by Martin Kelsey

The hot settled weather continues and in parts of Spain the extremely dry conditions have created a tinderbox. Big fires have been raging in eastern Spain and here in Extremadura there have been serious wildfires in the woodlands of the Hurdes, in the north-east. Yesterday a pall of smoke was discernable in the sky and a faint smell of smoke. It probably came from fires about 60 or 70 kilometres away. It has been an extremely dry year. The spring rains all but failed. The dry vegetation is significantly lower than last year. Very dry springs and summers here can have an impact on the birds. Little Bustard, for example, have very poor breeding seasons in dry springs. A friend of mine has over 30 White Stork nests on a ruin on his property. This year, for the first time ever, many pairs seemingly abandoned their young, about two weeks before they were ready to leave the nest. Some perished on the nests, whilst other youngsters flew to the ground, where they were seen drinking water from the dogs’ bowl. My friend managed to catch some of these young birds and contacted an animal rescue clinic to collect them. They arrived with their vehicle already almost full o boxes containing young storks. Clearly the phenomenon appears to be quite widespread. The reason seems to be that the parents abandoned young birds because they could not bring enough food to the nest. An important part of the storks’ diet at this time of the year is grasshoppers. This year grasshoppers have been very scarce, largely because of the drought. Normally there will be huge numbers on the plains, attracting Buzzards, Black Kites, Montagu’s Harriers, Lesser Kestrel, Ravens as well as the White Storks. I suspect that all of these species have had a hard time this year.

Martin

17 July 2009

2009-07-28T21:17:00.000+02:00

Welcome to my blog and share with me, through the seasons, encounters with nature in Extremadura, as well as life and culture in this very special part of Wild Spain.

Mid-July is traditionally seen as the quietest time of the year for birders in this part of Spain. For those with families we are already well into the school holidays and activities tend to revolve around activities with the children. It is often the hottest time of the year, so the time to get out into the field is first thing in the morning or well into the evening.

Yesterday I did just that, making a dawn visit to one of my favourite areas: an area of rice fields, beside open plains and dehesa (the famous grazing woodland) about twenty-five minutes to the south of our house. I try to visit the area as often as I can, which usually means not as often as I would like. It never disappoints, there will always be something of interest there.

As I approached the area, in the dusk of first light, a Black-winged Kite sat on a wooden electricity post beside the track, a crepuscular hunter so dawn and evenings are the best times to see this species. Once beside the paddy fields, I looked for those with sparser growth, especially with exposed mud. The first thing that struck me was the huge number of Black-winged Stilts. In the course of the morning I estimated that there were over 700 present (one field alone had over 400 in). As I looked more closely at them I could see that they included good numbers of young birds, some of them with much shorter legs and bills, clearly birds that had fledged in this area. I was also delighted to find two broods of Lapwing. This is a common winter visitor in Extremadura, but numbers were also building up at this site in early summer and seeing these chicks proved my suspicion that some had bred here. On a more distant field over a hundred Black-tailed Godwit fed, along with a few Ruff. Other migrant waders were dotted around such as Wood Sandpiper and Spotted Redshank. There were also young Collared Pratincoles seemingly everywhere, especially fond of sitting on the track in front of me. I left the car and walked along the bank of a small dam, which had very little water and a lot of exposed shingle, ideal for Ringed, Little Ringed and Kentish Plovers. On the edge of the shingle beach juvenile Gull-billed Terns waited to be fed by their parents. The rather sparrow-like chattering call of a Melodious Warbler revealed its presence in a willow beside me.

Looking down from the top of the bank onto an adjacent muddy field, I checked through another group of waders. A Green Sandpiper was feeding out in the open, and as I watched it, noticed that it was surrounded by other, smaller waders. They were adult Temminck’s Stints, a party of nine, and they were a delight of watch as they bobbed past the tufts of vegetation in the soft mud, looking like long sleek, miniature Common Sandpipers.

I have visited this site so many times, but still am over-awed to see the selection of waders on long-distance migration from high latitudes to the wetlands and coasts of the African tropics and sub-tropics, that fly across the interior of Spain finding stopover sites such as this one.