by Isobel Mackintosh
Realising that the resident swifts have left us each year is a reminder that summer is now on the wane in the Mediterranean Pyrenees. Sadly we won't hear that marvellous screeching as squadrons of swifts race in formation around the rooftops again this year. But recently I've noticed the odd group of swifts cruising along at a much higher altitude in the skies above our village in the Alberes. Presumably these are migrating birds from more northerly latitudes passing through. I like to think that this area, being largely unspoiled and forested, must make for a rich source of flying insects - a handy pit stop for migrating birds to refuel en route. I don't know how many small insects there are flying at such heights, but what I can vouch for, painfully, is that there are plenty of the biting kind around at ground level this year.
Realising that the resident swifts have left us each year is a reminder that summer is now on the wane in the Mediterranean Pyrenees. Sadly we won't hear that marvellous screeching as squadrons of swifts race in formation around the rooftops again this year. But recently I've noticed the odd group of swifts cruising along at a much higher altitude in the skies above our village in the Alberes. Presumably these are migrating birds from more northerly latitudes passing through. I like to think that this area, being largely unspoiled and forested, must make for a rich source of flying insects - a handy pit stop for migrating birds to refuel en route. I don't know how many small insects there are flying at such heights, but what I can vouch for, painfully, is that there are plenty of the biting kind around at ground level this year.
A bee eater in flight against a classic summer sky
The charming sound of bee eaters gently chirruping away at this time of year is also a sign that the annual migration south of these beautiful, colourful birds is beginning. Happily, however, as I write this, the spectacular and much loved golden orioles are still with us. A glimpse of a bright yellow flash among the green leaves always seems to lift the spirits, and at this time of year each day that I can still hear or see one feels like a bonus – a sign that summer is still clinging on, just.
Ripe green figs on our tree early in August 2015
This year the green fig tree in our garden seems to be fruiting earlier than usual. Gardening books tell me to expect two crops of figs each year this far south: one in June and one in September. This year we had virtually none in June, but since then a huge number have appeared, and before the end of the first week of August many of them were already ripe and ready to eat. They are absolutely delicious, but not only to humans. Tree sparrows and blue tits are constantly flitting around the fig tree, and a pair of jays and a magpie are frequently seen helping themselves there as well. I have never seen a golden oriole that close to the house before, but their occasional presence in the tree is an indication that the figs are fully ripe and sugary enough to attract insects for them to eat. I imagine that at the moment they are taking on as much energy as they can before the long flight ahead. Some it seems have left already. But a few nights ago we were delighted to be surprised by a far more exciting and unusual nocturnal visitor.
A tree sparrow in our fig tree - behind is a half-eaten fig bearing the tell-tale signs of a small perching bird's quest for the sugary fruit inside. Is it looking slightly guilty?
Just after dark, at around 9pm, we were clearing our supper from the terrace, when I heard a rustling in the bushes at the far end of our small garden. It sounded like something quite substantial was moving around there, but I assumed it must be one of the many feral cats living around the village. The rustling, which continued, implied that this was probably larger though. So we both stopped moving around and waited silently, in the hope of glimpsing something. We were certainly rewarded for our patience!
The small floodlight above our garden was turned on that night, so we knew that as long as the creature hadn't been frightened away by it, we would be able to see it quite clearly were it to find something of interest in our garden. And sure enough we could sense something coming closer and closer, until we saw what was clearly quite a substantial mammal walking along a low garden wall. At this point we could see very little, so waited stock still, and wondered if perhaps it was a fox. We soon saw a long bushy tail, and brown coloured fur on the trunk of this animal. Shape-wise it looked a bit like a large ferret. By this stage we had become aware that there were TWO of these creatures moving around in our garden, and that both were heading for the heavy laden fig tree.
They then jumped up, climbed different branches, and started reaching through the leaves for "our" figs, which they munched happily... without so much as a by-your-leave! By this stage, thanks to the floodlight, we were able to see that these creatures were in fact a pair of martens. The distinctive head shape, the small ears and their almost white-looking chin and bib were very clear now. When they looked up towards us and the light, reflective retinas made their eyes glow back at us brightly (just as dogs' and cats' eyes do when you take a flash photograph at home)
I knew that trying to take a worthwhile photograph was out of the question, however I had managed to get my binoculars, so I could be absolutely sure of what I was looking at. And I am very happy to report my first ever sighting of a beech or stone marten (Martes foina, Fouine in French, positively identified almost immediately thanks to the wonderful L'Albera book (which has suddenly and very sadly become more elusive than some of the creatures in its pages, by the way!)
The small floodlight above our garden was turned on that night, so we knew that as long as the creature hadn't been frightened away by it, we would be able to see it quite clearly were it to find something of interest in our garden. And sure enough we could sense something coming closer and closer, until we saw what was clearly quite a substantial mammal walking along a low garden wall. At this point we could see very little, so waited stock still, and wondered if perhaps it was a fox. We soon saw a long bushy tail, and brown coloured fur on the trunk of this animal. Shape-wise it looked a bit like a large ferret. By this stage we had become aware that there were TWO of these creatures moving around in our garden, and that both were heading for the heavy laden fig tree.
They then jumped up, climbed different branches, and started reaching through the leaves for "our" figs, which they munched happily... without so much as a by-your-leave! By this stage, thanks to the floodlight, we were able to see that these creatures were in fact a pair of martens. The distinctive head shape, the small ears and their almost white-looking chin and bib were very clear now. When they looked up towards us and the light, reflective retinas made their eyes glow back at us brightly (just as dogs' and cats' eyes do when you take a flash photograph at home)
I knew that trying to take a worthwhile photograph was out of the question, however I had managed to get my binoculars, so I could be absolutely sure of what I was looking at. And I am very happy to report my first ever sighting of a beech or stone marten (Martes foina, Fouine in French, positively identified almost immediately thanks to the wonderful L'Albera book (which has suddenly and very sadly become more elusive than some of the creatures in its pages, by the way!)
It's not only the wildlife that's provided a spectacular show this August - frequent storms have drenched the Alberes and made them greener than I can ever remember
In the excitement of this wonderful, if brief sighting, I almost forgot to mention that the night before, at dusk, I had also been incredibly lucky to witness the most amazing aerobatic display from a pair of hobbies (Falco subbuteo) that I have ever seen. The birds swooped around expertly, diving back and forth among the trees in the little valley beyond our garden for several minutes – maybe even a quarter of an hour. I had my binoculars to hand, but following their wildly spectacular flight was quite a challenge, especially as the light was fading fast. No doubt they were "hawking" for swallows, house martins or bats, and at one point I saw one of them apparently eating something, whilst in flight, from its claws. Their flying skills are quite extraordinary and their vision must be incredible to be strong and precise enough to spot and then hunt small, fast-moving targets in such low light. They are handsome beasts too - I could see the black moustache-like markings on on their cheeks very clearly, and the death-dark blue-black of their upper body parts was simply stunning. Again I didn't want to risk missing a moment trying to get my camera set up, so I'm sorry to say that I have no illustrations to help you share in the excitement.
Instead though, I have two amazing memories that I will always cherish, and which I am sure will stay with me for life.
So whilst it is sad to be bidding the very hot weather goodbye for 2015, subsequent reports this week prove that such amazing sightings are not freak occurences, or once-in-a-lifetime encounters. Lesley spotted a beech marten at very close quarters in a tree whilst walking under cloudy skies in the Alberes with a friend a few days later. I'm hoping she will write that dramatic encounter up as a blog soon. And another friend was thrilled to see a Genette crossing a track in front of her car at very close quarters in the woods above Chateau Valmy, also in broad daylight! Which confirms that although the nights are drawing in, and the sunshine getting weaker, this really is an excellent time of year to watch wildlife. So keep your eyes peeled - it's all out there!
Isobel Mackintosh, August 2015
All photographs © Isobel Mackintosh
Instead though, I have two amazing memories that I will always cherish, and which I am sure will stay with me for life.
So whilst it is sad to be bidding the very hot weather goodbye for 2015, subsequent reports this week prove that such amazing sightings are not freak occurences, or once-in-a-lifetime encounters. Lesley spotted a beech marten at very close quarters in a tree whilst walking under cloudy skies in the Alberes with a friend a few days later. I'm hoping she will write that dramatic encounter up as a blog soon. And another friend was thrilled to see a Genette crossing a track in front of her car at very close quarters in the woods above Chateau Valmy, also in broad daylight! Which confirms that although the nights are drawing in, and the sunshine getting weaker, this really is an excellent time of year to watch wildlife. So keep your eyes peeled - it's all out there!
Isobel Mackintosh, August 2015
All photographs © Isobel Mackintosh
