by Robin Noble
Just as the plain of the Roussillon stretches north from the rocky coast of the Côte Vermeille, so the Emporda reaches south from the rocks of Roses and Cadaques. Our Étang is replaced by the pools and marshes of the Parc Natural dels Aiguamolls, and Martine and I recently spent an afternoon exploring a small and easily accessible part of it. The first hide we visited is very close to the Visitor Centre and felt quite familiar as we approached. The view from it, however, was completely changed from the spring when we had last been there: much of the wetland, formerly open water, had dried in the summer and was now very green grass. There were still storks, lots of them, mostly just standing around, and mallard – by the dozen. Just in front of the hide, behind some rushes, were a couple of snipe feeding industriously, and we had an excellent view of their lovely markings.
Just as the plain of the Roussillon stretches north from the rocky coast of the Côte Vermeille, so the Emporda reaches south from the rocks of Roses and Cadaques. Our Étang is replaced by the pools and marshes of the Parc Natural dels Aiguamolls, and Martine and I recently spent an afternoon exploring a small and easily accessible part of it. The first hide we visited is very close to the Visitor Centre and felt quite familiar as we approached. The view from it, however, was completely changed from the spring when we had last been there: much of the wetland, formerly open water, had dried in the summer and was now very green grass. There were still storks, lots of them, mostly just standing around, and mallard – by the dozen. Just in front of the hide, behind some rushes, were a couple of snipe feeding industriously, and we had an excellent view of their lovely markings.
Our next hide overlooked a larger area of water, with yet more storks, and mallard – probably this time by the hundred! They were as noisy as ever, and by their behaviour you might well have thought we were back in spring – (just like Lesley's collared doves!). There was certainly a great deal of fuss and splashing, and some birds were mating – so too were a number of lovely dragonflies, of which Martine succeeded in getting some wonderful photos. From the illustrations in the Albera book, these must rejoice in the latin name of anax parthenope – the lesser emperor dragonfly.
But initially, our eyes were drawn to the flamingos, which were quite close by. There were several, some young and rather colourless, some adult and notably pink.
We watched them for a considerable time while they fed continually, progressing slowly through the water. We got excellent views of their wonderfully shuffling gait as they stir up the mud on the bottom, in order to sift through it for food with their remarkable bills. We had not seen this movement before, and after a while it is hard not to giggle as they do this slow waggling of their distinctly bony knees!
We watched them for a considerable time while they fed continually, progressing slowly through the water. We got excellent views of their wonderfully shuffling gait as they stir up the mud on the bottom, in order to sift through it for food with their remarkable bills. We had not seen this movement before, and after a while it is hard not to giggle as they do this slow waggling of their distinctly bony knees!
Other interesting behaviour included a rather angry interchange; one bird seemed to come off worse in a minor argument, and definitely called for help, which duly arrived (?Mother to the rescue, perhaps – but there were reinforcements following!). In the picture you can see that the bird with no colour on its bill is being told off very firmly, and it moved away quickly thereafter.
At the last place we visited, there was a group of fallow deer in the field. Although I think they were (temporarily?) confined there, their behaviour was quite shy and wild and I was glad to see they were not tagged. (I always feel it is a total affront to the wildness and beauty of such a creature – or a bird of prey – to have to wear large, obvious, plastic tags). These were very handsome in their spotted, late-summer coats, some lying down, some moving through the long grass. There was one mystery, however: I think there were two bucks, but neither had the big, spreading, palmate antlers you expect of fallow deer; instead they possessed short, sharp spikes. Some red stags lack branched antlers, having simple straight ones, with which they can do a lot of damage – perhaps this was something similar?
This is just a sample of what this wonderful place has to offer – we must go back!
