Mediterranean Pyrenees
  • Home
  • About
  • Galleries
    • Birds of the Mediterranean Pyrenees >
      • Common Birds of the Mediterranean Pyrenees by Isobel
    • Weather in the Mediterranean Pyrenees >
      • Weather: skies and storms in the Mediterranean Pyrenees
      • Clouds above the Mediterranean Pyrenees by Isobel
      • The summer of 2015 by Isobel
    • Bruce's Pix >
      • Beetles, Bugs and other insects
      • Birds
      • Butterflies
      • Butterflies of La Batère
      • Canigou
      • Castles
      • Dragonflies
      • Flowers
      • Pyrenees Landscapes
      • TGV
      • UK photos
    • Isobel's Images >
      • Isobel's favourite images
      • Springtime in an Alberes garden
      • In the garden
      • Tour de Batere, spring 2015 with Robin Noble
    • Lesley's Snaps >
      • Insects & Arachnids
      • Bees
      • Birds
      • Les Albères
      • Elsewhere in the region
    • Robin's Photos
    • Martine's Photos
    • GUESTS' Gallery
  • Birdsong
  • Blog
  • Resources
  • Contact

Route March around the Empordà

14/3/2019

1 Comment

 
 By Lesley McLaren

Inspired by Robin and Martine's visit to the Aiguamolls de l'Empordà wetlands in February, I was keen to witness the abundant birdlife for myself, and an opportunity came two days ago. With my husband minding the dog at home, I could make a full day of it, and intended to explore the southern end of the reserve further than previously.

Laden as always with camera, binoculars and rucksack, plus the added weight and challenge of a newly purchased spotting scope, I set off from the main car park at about 11.30. On emerging from the information centre with a map of the whole reserve, I was passed by a raucous, swift-flying flock of parakeets. (The book lists two species in the reserve, but I couldn't say which they were.) Even more raucous, was a much larger flock of Spanish primary schoolchildren on a day trip. Happily for me, they were heading for the north end. For now.

I'd asked the man at the information centre if there was anything of special interest around, given that migration is now underway. I was hoping for ospreys but he said it was too early for those. As expected, there were marsh harriers, though. And cranes were in the area. That perked me up, until he told me that they spent the daytime in fields near to - but not in - the reserve, and at night would fly into the wettest part of the reserve - the area nearest the sea and least accessible to birdwatchers like me.

No cranes, then, but I did see a lot of other things - most of the species recorded by Robin and Martine, although notably no geese or lapwing. I undoubtedly missed some too, but my tally came to 43 nevertheless, and included at least two new ones.
There were some surprises too.

Once before, Robin and I thought we might have heard a water rail, but I rather despaired of ever seeing one. It was wonderful, therefore, to glimpse one this time, quietly poking around a marshy area of dead grasses and reeds, not far from the track to the first hide. Later in the year I would never have seen him or her through all the foliage.

Picture
After the Observatori de las Daines (Fallow doe hide), which overlooks a field beloved by storks and - of course - deer, I continued for about another fifteen minutes, alongside the narrow canal (huge carp splashing about, spawning, in there), stopping next at a big hide on stilts (Observatori Pallejà), looking east towards the sea. This is in the section we've previously driven on to from the main car park.
Picture
I spent a very peaceful twenty minutes or so here, with the hide to myself most of the time, watching a few ducks, coot and little grebe on the water, as well as storks on the grassland and marsh harriers drifting south to north over the marshes beyond. A pale form booted eagle came close several times and was mobbed briefly by a kestrel. Then another falcon appeared, which at first glance I expected to be the kestrel again, only to realise it was giving chase to small birds flying over the water. Kestrels don't hunt this way and, when it later circled round, a flash of its dark face confirmed: peregrine falcon - the first I've seen in the region, either side of the border!
Picture
Booted eagle
With the day shaping up nicely, it was time for a spot of lunch.

I was just finishing my sandwich, when the hide was besieged by schoolchildren. As they claimed every bit of space on the benches around me, it was all I could do to stash my lunchbox, gather all my gear, sling it across my shoulders and stand up before getting trampled. The teachers looked mildly apologetic as they vainly called for hush, and I escaped.

Round the corner, heading for the Camargue horses, I met a handful of British birders with telescopes trained on a wet field full of shelduck. The leader pointed out water pipits not far from us. I have never knowingly seen one of these before and probably wouldn't recognise one again unless in its ideal watery habitat. Like most pipits, they were unremarkable - dunnock-like - even through binoculars or scope. The sun was much too bright on the water  to see much colour in anything, however, and I didn't linger there either.

The horses were close to the fence, having an afternoon kip, when I passed them, and a few minutes further on, after three more hides, it was a short stroll to the sea.

Picture
Penultimate hide before beach - looking towards the old grain silos converted into observation towers
Picture
Little to see from these last hides that day - all the birds were further inland, where they were more sheltered from the wind
Picture
Last hide before the beach
On the beach, a sand dune regeneration project is underway, and a line of wooden poles marches north, marking the eastern perimeter of the reserve, for as far as the eye or binoculars can see. Signs warn against walking on the inland side of these posts, so as not to disturb ground-nesting birds in the breeding season, as well as plants. This means you can't avoid the sand.

After consulting my map, I was interested in getting to a hide about halfway up the beach, because it was on the edge of where I'd been told the cranes spend the night. While I had no expectation of seeing any (it was still much too early), I thought there might be other stuff about. Plus, according to the map, at another hide some distance beyond that, a dotted line showed an "alternative route" which would eventually bring me full circle to the visitors centre. Marked as "closed from 1st April to 30th June" (breeding season), it should be OK now. Except that it appeared to cross quite an expanse of water. Perhaps there was a boardwalk?

It turned out that I had about a mile's hike ahead of me, on very soft sand, into the gale. Even at the water's edge the going was no easier, and I needed my fleece and hat now. I dismissed the idea of giving up; if I didn't explore this area now, I probably never would but would wonder what I'd missed.

Apart from driftwood, there was little obvious plastic or other rubbish, which was gratifying. It was close to pristine - and completely deserted apart from me.

Short, plodding steps got me to the first hide. But there was nothing to see here today.

Picture
Accessible from the beach (after a 20 minute walk), this hide looks across the area where cranes spend the night. Allegedly.
Grim determination had got me close to the next hide, when I came upon a few tiny waders standing facing into the wind, near the wooden posts. Brilliantly camouflaged against the sand, they were relatively tame, running a few feet ahead of me as I approached, before stopping and again facing the wind - and flying sand. Presumably they face this way so their feathers aren't blown about.

I'm out of practice as far as waders are concerned, not having watched them much since my teens at the Northumberland coast, but I'm fairly sure two were sanderling and the others,  Kentish plovers. The latter was another first for me. So it was worth the slog - just about - to see those.

Picture
Sanderling
Picture
Kentish plover (winter plumage)
At this last hide, although I wasn't surprised, my heart sank to find the whole area well under water. No sign of a boardwalk, track or dotted line of an alternative route anywhere inland. If I wanted to attempt a short cut to the visitors centre, I would have to get my feet wet. If not swim. There was nothing for it but to plod back the way I had come.

It took half an hour but felt like forever, and the only other birds I saw were a migrating kestrel (skirting the coast northwards, perilously low over the sea as it battled the wind), one yellow-legged gull, one marsh harrier and a male stonechat.
I don't think I'll soon repeat that walk, beautiful though the views are.
Picture
The depressingly long walk back, retracing my footprints, which were disappearing fast in the wind.
It was 4pm by the time I regained firm ground and, not far from the horses again, I found myself walking through huge swarms of mosquito-like flies. Apart from a few butterflies and a single dragonfly, these were the only insects I'd noticed all day.

By now there were few people around. The children had long gone, the sun was much lower and there was a pervading sense of calm. It's in quiet moments like these when you tend to feel less like an observer and more like a participant in the natural world.

Close to the information centre once more, I couldn't resist checking out the first hide again before leaving. The skies showed no sign of cranes, but some birds seemed to be gathering for the evening. Among egrets great and little, at least twenty grey herons now occupied the area where I'd seen fallow deer earlier. The deer themselves were further round; a lone coypu was enjoying high tea in the water, and two terrapins were taking advantage of the fading sun on a half-submerged tree trunk.

Picture
Late afternoon serenity
Despite the earlier relentless and relatively unrewarding beach walk, a feeling of peace descended as I hobbled - weary but happy - to the car. The day had held a number of surprising highlights, and perhaps the cerise sur le gâteau came during the morning: an albino buck among the deer.

Here he is in a short clip - after a pair of beak-clacking storks. I gather he's quite famous among regular visitors to the reserve.

Aiguamolls de l'Empordà from Lesley McLaren on Vimeo.

Bird list:
Little grebe, great crested grebe, cormorant, great egret, little egret, grey heron, white stork, glossy ibis, flamingo, shelduck, mallard, shoveler, garganay, teal, water rail, moorhen, coot, booted eagle, marsh harrier, buzzard, peregrine falcon, kestrel, ringed plover, Kentish plover, snipe, sanderling, yellow-legged gull, wood pigeon, parakeet, lesser spotted woodpecker (heard), sand martin, water pipit, white wagtail, stonechat, black redstart, robin, chiffchaff, Sardinian warbler, fan-tailed warbler, Cetti's warbler (heard), starling, cirl bunting,   Spanish sparrow.

1 Comment

The High Pyrenees

1/3/2019

0 Comments

 
By Bruce Hyde

Winter stayed a long time in the high Pyrenees last year. The snow lasted on the ground and all wildlife was slow to emerge into the spring sunshine.
 
We had decided to make an earlyish start to our June expedition only to discover on arrival that our plans might have been better served to have waited an extra week or two. But time, tide and Pyrenean weather wait for no man, so we assembled cheerfully in St. Pierre dels Forçats, high in the mountains, and took local advice on which of the mountain paths and trails to explore.
Picture


​​In the event we were never disappointed, as the views were stunning with high-level snow adding an elegant backdrop, mountain streams gushing with snow melt and all nature readily welcoming the arrival of warmer weather.

Picture

​With my specialty being dragonflies, I was somewhat disappointed to see only one species. However, I know they are quite late arrivals, typically waiting for warm sunshine before emerging, and the late snows were not to their liking. This was the dragon I saw, a Broad-bodied Chaser (Libellula depressa)

​However, butterflies, also a hobby of mine, seem to be much hardier.
Picture
I saw more Orange Tips (Anthocharis cardamines) in our few days than I would normally observe in a whole season. They are often the first to appear in the spring and will fly for only a few weeks. Early in the season they are hard to photograph as they flit around seemingly non-stop. And this was early in their season! Even so there they were, every day, enjoying the sunshine. 

In all, I photographed 22 different species, seven of which were new to me. 
Picture


One of these – a Bright-eyed Ringlet (Erebie oeme) - is very much a high-level butterfly, inhabiting the upper levels of the Pyrenees from near Pau as far east as the Pic du Canigou.


As is always the case, there was an abundance of the little “blue” butterflies. According to the maps in the classic Tolman and Lewington guide there are roughly 30 different species of these to be found in the French Pyrenees and many are so similar that identifying them can be challenging, to say the least. I was helped by Roger Gibbons, whose website “Butterflies of France” is an excellent source of reference. I was surprised that most of the blues were on the Cerdagne plateau rather than, as I had expected, near the mountain streams. Some wet patches beside the country lane leading to the tiny village of Sauto had quite a few species puddling for mineral salts.
Picture


​A new blue, Amanda’s Blue (Polyommatus amandus) occupies a habitat that runs along northern Spain, then the Pyrenees, and follows the Mediterranean coast as far as the Alps. It appears to be widespread in Eastern Europe.

Lots of them are not even coloured blue – for instance some species, as well as most females, have brown upper wings. This shows the startling difference between the female (on the left) and male Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus):
Picture
Picture
I managed to photograph (easy) and identify (difficult) 6 different “blues” – which is quite satisfying given our relatively brief stay and the lateness of the season’s arrival.
Picture

Another very pretty specimen was this Adonis Blue (Polyommatus bellargus). To be expected here, as its territory covers most of Europe from Portugal to Turkey; it is absent in all but the south of UK and, curiously, from the southern tip of Italy.


Picture


​The Eros Blue (Polyommatus eros) was another new one. In France, this high-level insect is only found in the Pyrenees, the Alps and Cantal in the massif central. I think we were lucky to come across it as it usually doesn’t appear until July.

Picture

The third new blue was the Mazarine Blue (Cyaniris semiargus), which copes with high altitudes, up to 2000 metres. Extinct in Britain, it has a wide distribution in mainland Europe, from near the Arctic circle down to the Mediterranean.


Picture


​The fourth and final new one among these tiny jewels was the Turquoise Blue (Plebicula dorylas), whose range extends from northern Spain, across the centre of France and well into Eastern Europe.

​Having sorted those out, there were a couple more to add to my list of new species. 
Picture


​This Pearl-bordered Fritillary (Boloria Euphrosyne) insisted on hanging upside down as it nectared on vetch. It has an enormous range covering most of Europe as far north as the Arctic circle.

Picture


​Finally, there was this Wood White (Leptidea sinapis) which was rather more obliging for my camera. Terrain like the Pyrenees is a perfect habitat, and it is probable that the ones I saw would have over-wintered as pupae.

No record of those high meadows and hills would be complete without the flora. As Robin and Lesley wrote in their blogs about our séjour, the mountains were abundant with flowers, from azalea bushes, just coming into bloom, nestling by mountain streams…
Picture
​…to fields covered with wild daffodils, gentians by the mountain tracks and dog rose, borage, pasque flowers, buttercups and so many more. I managed to identify at least three species of orchid and have photos of other flowers as yet unidentified.
Picture
Wild Narcissus
Picture
Dog Rose
Picture
Fragrant Orchid
Picture
Gentian
Picture
Pasque Flower
Picture
Western Marsh Orchid
​I was hoping to see some of the majestic raptors that dwell at those heights. Having previously spotted lammergiers, griffon vultures, and eagles in the mountains around Canigou, I was happy to see a short-toed eagle, as well as a golden eagle, both soaring majestically over their domain. 
Picture
Short-toed Eagle
I am always in a quandary while out photographing wildlife. I am mainly interested in dragonflies and butterflies. Because these are all quite small, it is handy to have specialised photographic kit to capture the detail; by moving very slowly and unobtrusively one can often get quite close – sometimes within a few centimeters. Birds and mammals, though much larger, are challenging in different ways, and because one can’t get very close to those, a long lens is useful. Herein lies the quandary: it is all very well lugging a heavy telephoto lens around with you in the hope of seeing an eagle, but by the time you have taken it off and swapped it for a close-up lens, the dragonfly you have just spotted has well and truly gone!
 
And, in just that scenario, lies my memory of forgetfulness. Armed with my camera over my shoulder, and knapsack containing telephoto lens, bottles of water, sandwiches and other stuff, I was enjoying a steep walk up the surfaced footpath of the Sègre Gorge walk. After an hour or so I turned to head back, whereupon, to my surprise, I met Ann and Isobel. 
Picture
We stopped, I put down my sac à dos, we chatted, drank some water and then carried on down towards our cars. We were not far from the bottom when I realised I had left the knapsack behind! Quelle horreur! Not only did it contain my lens, but it was also borrowed from Lesley! I immediately charged off back up the hill. My big fear was that it would have been picked up by someone else!
 
I passed a few people coming down and asked each if they had seen the bag. Yes, they said it was beside the path. It took a good 45 minutes of strenuous uphill power-walking before I rounded a bend and saw it – exactly where I had left it. I sent thanks to the gods of the mountains! Then back down again – which seemed to take forever. Ann was walking up to meet me; we heaved a collective sigh of relief and decided that a cold beer was very much the order of the day. And so it was – and particularly delicious too!
 
Our home for those few days was a traditional timber chalet at the edge of the village where we enjoyed the rural life.

Picture
Picture
​As a final reminder, I shan’t forget the sun breaking through the clouds as it set over the mountains. Who could possibly ignore the lure of the high Pyrenees?
Picture
0 Comments

    Authors

    Bruce Hyde
    Isobel Mackintosh
    Lesley McLaren
    Robin Noble

    Archives

    August 2020
    May 2020
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    January 2018
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    December 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013

    Categories

    All
    Amphibians
    Arachnids
    Birds
    Bruce Hyde
    Dragonfly Differences
    Insects
    Isobel Mackintosh
    Lesley McLaren
    Mammals
    Marine Life
    Misc
    Mushrooms & Fungi
    Plants
    Reptiles
    Robin Noble
    Sea & Coast
    Tracks/Traces
    Weather

    Click icon for notification of new posts
    Subscribe
Lesley McLaren, Bruce Hyde, Isobel Mackintosh, Robin Noble, Martine Howard, mediterraneanpyrenees.com associates and affiliates do not warrant or assume any legal liability or responsibility for the accuracy, completeness or usefulness of any information, product or process disclosed. Lesley McLaren, Bruce Hyde, Isobel Mackintosh, Robin Noble, Martine Howard, mediterraneanpyrenees.com and affiliates do not endorse or recommend any commercial products, processes or services and cannot be held liable for any result of the use of such information, products, processes or services discussed on this website.