Category: Bruce Hyde

The High Pyrenees

1/3/2019

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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):

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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…

…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.

Wild Narcissus

Dog Rose

Fragrant Orchid

Gentian

Pasque Flower

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.

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.

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.

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?

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A Walk on the Wild Side

24/8/2018

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By Bruce Hyde

This summer I spent 12 days in June in Occitanie. The main purpose of my trip was to explore wildlife in the high Pyrenees along with the rest of our group, but because I had some days to kill before and after, I returned to a favourite old haunt of mine in the Tech valley. It always yields interesting fauna; this time was no different and there were some surprises in store as well as species new to me.

One of the first insects I saw, and new to me, was this lovely little Roesel's bush-cricket (Metrioptera roeseli).

A distinctive cricket with a white flash

It was particularly exciting to see the relatively unusual Lesser Purple Emperor (Apatura ilia) butterfly. The males, not the females, develop the purple sheen on the wings which is only apparent at certain angles. Lesley and I were close to the river at the time, and we felt lucky to get such a good view as normally this butterfly flies around 1 metre or so above the ground and when it settles it does so in trees at a height of about 3 metres, making it difficult to get good photos.

Lesser Purple Emperor with the sheen showing on one wing

It is common in the insect world to find that males that are more elaborately patterned than females.

The difference between the upper side and underneath of the wings always surprises me. The underside has no trace at all of the purple gloss.

Lesser Purple Emperor's plain underside.

An old dragonfly friend - there are quite a lot around - is the Broad Scarlet (Crocothemis erythraea). These beautiful insects are well named, the males being brilliantly coloured, including the eyes and face.

The striking Broad Scarlet male .....

This species is a prime example of the male showing off in all its splendour while the female remains quite dowdy, as would be clear a few moments later when we saw the female....

..... and female.

Lesley showed me an area along the south bank of the Tech near Ortaffa, which I had not been to before. Here we found two beetles, both of the scarab family but looking completely different. The first, Hoplia coerulea, is an iridescent sky-blue. This insect is really hard to photograph as the colour seems impossible to capture correctly. On that day we were lucky in that it was overcast and the diffused light brought out the delicate, iridescent hue really well. Yet again, it is the male that is the show-off, with the female being a dull brown.

The other, called a Monkey Beetle (Hoplia philanthus), still a handsome creature, had lovely chestnut brown wing covers (elytra). In fact, these are the first of their two pairs of wings, but they are not used for flying. In beetles they have evolved instead to protect the soft abdomen and delicate structure of the second pair, which they use for flying.

The showy male sky-blue Scarab Beetle

Chestnut brown Monkey Beetle

On a soft, sandy path there were a number of bees seemingly burrowing around in the sand and dust. I know that bees often nest underground but seeing them behave like this, in what would appear to be a fairly hostile environment, seemed strange. Lesley has done some research and they are Mining Bees (Colletes succinctus). Although solitary, they can form colonies. Their normal habitat is heathland and moorland, although there are some populations which occur in dunes and beaches. Females burrow about 30cm down and create a few chambers at the end of the tunnel. They lay a single egg in each chamber and then place pollen next to the egg, for the emerging grub to feed on. When the young bees finally emerge males congregate around tunnel openings, waiting to pounce upon and mate with any females. So we think the scrum we saw that day was exactly this event.

Mining Bees waiting to mate with females

As dragonflies are my main insect passion, it is always a great pleasure to see large individuals, and flying around near the Plan d'Eau at St. Génis-des-Fontaines were two Southern Migrant Hawkers. The pair, both female, were hunting along a path then retreating to perch in the bushes. At the time I couldn't identify them, but knew I hadn't seen them there before. The undergrowth was quite thick and on a steep bank; I had to struggle in without either disturbing the dragons or getting myself scratched too much. Having surreptitiously worked into a position where I could actually see them clearly, avoiding branches and twigs I took the photograph.

Female Blue-eyed Hawker

I have known that particular area for well over 10 years, so it was exciting to find a species which I knew I had never seen there before. It wasn't until I got home to my books that I confirmed these two ladies were Blue-eyed Hawkers. As with a number of dragonflies they have several other names - in this case Southern Migrant Hawker, L'Aeschne affine and Aeshna affinis.

In my French reference book Les Libellules de France, Belgique et Luxembourg they are listed as not being present at all by the Tech. It is clear they are extending their range in France and there have even been a few sightings this summer across the Channel in England, as reported by the British Dragonfly Society.

If I hadn’t already spotted those two in flight, I might never have found them when perched, as they blended into the background so successfully.

Another fine example of camouflage is the Brimstone butterfly (Gonepteryx rhamni). Among the leaves on a bush, this one was almost invisible.

Brilliant camouflage

Another member of the Gonepteryx family is the Cleopatra (Gonepteryx cleopatra) which is largely restricted to the Western Mediterranean area. The main difference between the two is the orange flush on the upper side of the Cleopatra's wings. The problem is that it always settles with its wings closed! However I was lucky enough to get a shot just as one was taking off with the colour showing right through.

Cleopatra

Lesley and I were talking about the many Golden Orioles we hear around the Tech valley, but seldom actually see. I suppose the subject came up because we were hearing them nearby, hidden in the trees, singing their typically mellifluous song. (Click this link to go to our collection of birdsongs - Birdsong) At that moment five or six of them appeared from behind us, swiftly crossing the river and going into the high trees on the opposite bank. They were only in view for a few seconds (too little time to get the camera up) but this beautiful bird is unmistakeable. We were so lucky to have seen them.

While some butterflies are quite tolerant of being approached, others are rather skittish. The Iberian Marbled White (Melanargia lachesis) is just like that and is notorious for the way it flits around, seldom settling. This time I was lucky!

An Iberian Marbled White posing for its photo.

On the trail beside the Tech was one of the more spectacular of European butterflies - the Swallowtail (Papilio machaon). It is large with a very hairy body and has stunningly coloured "eyes" in its tail. This was a pristine example which had only recently emerged, spending plenty of time letting its wings harden in the sunshine.

Swallowtail

A relatively unusual dragonfly is the Large Pincertail (Onychogomphus uncatus). This time I saw two females and one of them had unusually pale markings on the body, which actually made the identification easier. The eyes are a pale blue, hence another of its names - Blue-eyed Hooktail.

Large Pincertail

The formidable graspers of a male Pincertail

We saw two or three of its close relative, the Small Pincertail (Onychogomphus forcipatus). The males of both species have fearsome appendages at the end of the abdomen, which gives them their name. The purpose of these "pincers" is to grasp the female during mating!

A detailed description of the differences between Large and Small Pincertails is in an earlier blog (follow this link - dragonfly-differences.html)

A typical Tech riverside scene which makes the point.

Insects are cold-blooded creatures and rely on Mother Nature to get them up to working temperature each day. Usually they simply bask in the sunshine, perched on leaves or branches; at other times they can draw heat by settling on warm stones. The Large Pincertail above was doing just that. While this is all very well for insects, it can present a challenge for anyone trying to photograph them, as that sort of terrain makes for very tough walking.

The final dragonfly I saw near the Tech was another species new to me - the Orange-spotted Emerald (Oxygastra curtisii). This was particularly difficult to photograph as it never settled. As is usual for the species, it chose a gap in riverside vegetation about 4 or 5 metres long and patrolled ceaselessly back and forth hunting for prey. It flew fast so getting a good shot of it proved almost impossible. This is the best I could get, and I can't wait for another chance!

Orange-spotted Emerald

A typical insect of the region is the Egyptian Grasshopper (Anacrydium aegyptium). While these are not uncommon they are large and very clumsy fliers. This one popped out from a bush and crash landed in another a few metres away.

Egyptian Grasshopper

My only disappointment during the trip was that I didn't see an otter. Whenever I am near the river, and Lesley feels the same, we are on the lookout for any signs of them. We know they are present as once we saw a skeleton and there was also what looked like one that had been run over by the bridge on the D914 where it crossed the Tech near Palau-del-Vidre. In the past we have seen various signs....

Tracks in the sand

Probable spraints

... but we have never seen an actual otter. We were hoping our luck might change, and at likely spots we were creeping stealthily around, but it was not to be. It won't stop us continuing to keep a good look-out - hope springs eternal!

My next blog will see us in the high Pyrénées where the flora and fauna, not to mention the views, are so very different.

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In Search of Butterflies at Le Col des Auzines

30/7/2017

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By Lesley McLaren Photos by Bruce Hyde

Around mid June, Bruce and I headed to a new area to look for butterflies. Our expectations were high, following a tip-off from members of the GOR who, five days earlier, had seen 34 different species there. Their list included the elusive, splendidly named two-tailed pasha, which Bruce hadn't seen before and I'd only briefly glimpsed once or twice.

At Îlle-sur-Têt we headed north-west, into unfamiliar territory beyond les Orgues. The winding road gently climbed, offering spectacular views of the north side of Canigou - a side we rarely see - with its remnants of snow stubbornly refusing to melt. After passing through the little village of Mantalba-le-Château and tiny hamlet of Trévillach, we pulled into a surprisingly big car park in the middle of nowhere, on the crest of a hill. According to our map, this was our destination: le Col des Auzines.

For June, it was very hot, but also very windy, which didn't bode so well for butterfly hunting. Photos are often essential for identification - especially of the blues and fritillaries - and even if we could hold our cameras still enough in these blowy conditions, the butterflies were unlikely to settle for long.

Loaded up with kit and one dog on a lead, we set off down the only visible dirt track. The terrain was more akin to the Corbières than most of the Albères: few trees on the slopes, more scrub, with occasional rocky outcrops. Shrubs seemed to be predominantly rock rose (which had stopped flowering long ago), gorse, broom, and what I think was some kind of myrtle. To our surprise - considering the tip-off - there weren't many plants in flower, and no sign of any running water nearby to attract butterflies in numbers.

In the hope that the habitat might change further on, we continued. A wooded gully fell away to our left, whose trees and impenetrable undergrowth indicated the presence of water in other seasons. Hillsides to our right.

A few butterflies began to make an appearance - Spanish gatekeepers and large walls for the most part, skittishly leading us further down the track. A clouded yellow and one or two Cleopatras fluttered past without stopping. Most couldn't have stopped if they'd wanted to.

What brought us to a sudden halt, however, was a loud, harsh, bark, echoing up from the gully on our left. The kind of sound that lifts the hairs on the back of your neck. Whatever made it was big, not canine. Bruce and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised, while my dog "pointed", sniffing and straining to give chase. Was it a stag? Do stags call much, outside the rutting season? The bark continued intermittently, moving slowly, steadily up the gully, roughly in the same direction as us. We couldn't see a thing through the vegetation but nor did we hear a single twig crack or leaf rustle. We moved on too and, when we reached a left hand bend, the animal barked again, somewhere above us now, on our right. It had crossed the path perhaps seconds before we got there. As it moved further away, my dog was desperate to follow. Given the expanse of wildness here, it was tempting to think the beast was a lynx (they can make a bark-like sound, and sightings are occasionally reported further north, in the Corbières), however I thought it more likely to be a hind. (Robin has since suggested roe deer buck or doe, as they have a different annual cycle from the red, giving birth and rutting much earlier in the year.)

Just ahead we discovered a bigger flower patch (scabious mostly) with butterflies, so we stopped, unloaded rucksacks, and hung around for a while - cameras poised. It was here where we found a single, stubby strawberry tree (Arbutus unedo). We'd been looking out for them because they are the larval food plant of pashas. Where there are Strawberry trees, the butterflies are often in abundance, so it's said. This one was in a small fenced off area (more shrine than garden, with no habitable building for miles), so we didn't think it was self-seeded.

One or two pashas did whizz by (or the same one once or twice), but we really only got a fleeting impression of size (similar to swallowtails) and a flash of orange edging to dark brown wings. On a still day they glide like swallowtails too. As their name suggests, they have two long "tails". Underside wing markings are more ornate than the uppers, but we needed the butterflies to settle, wings closed, in order to see those. They didn't co-operate so our ambition to observe them properly is put forward to another year.

Species that did settle included a small tortoiseshell, swallowtail and quite a few whites (Bath and Iberian marbled). Several blues too, photos of which subsequently had both of us in a head-scratching, fidget-inducing spot-the-difference exercise, trying to separate the common from the Chapman's and Escher's. Not to mention the expletive-triggering Ilex verus False Ilex hairstreak challenge. For once, even the fritillaries proved easier. A highlight of the day was a white admiral. These probably aren't scarce but I hardly ever see them.

Click on photos for larger image

For a while we walked on, passing signs of former human occupation: a high stone wall and "casot" (outbuilding). When a derelict house came into view, we wondered if it was somehow connected to the little garden we'd found earlier. Plant life wasn't changing, however, so we headed back.

In all, we idenitifed just 17 species, against the 34 seen only a few days earlier on a still day. Given the conditions we met, perhaps this tally wasn't so bad. Our region has many micro climates and it was interesting to learn that Robin and Martine were having a very different experience on the same day, south of us and much higher, in the wind-free foothills of Canigou. Robin's blog (dated 7th July) describes an impressive spectacle of butterflies - in terms of sheer numbers, if not species.

I had also been told to look out for rock thrushes at the Col des Auzines. The males have blue-grey heads, rich rust-orange undersides and tails. I'd never seen one - and wasn't to see one that day either. Just about the only birds in evidence were linnets. Not even a buzzard or short-toed eagle dropped by. Mind you, our eyes were down most of the time.

Beetles were in abundance, including one new to Bruce and me, which scurried purposefully down the sandy track towards us. Heeding the orange-red warning stripes on its long black body, we didn't attempt to pick it up for a closer look, or let my dog sniff it. Just as well, because if threatened they can exude an oily substance that irritates skin and can cause it to blister. Which is why they are called red-striped oil beetles, or blister beetles.

As far as butterflies were concerned, the outing was perhaps a little disappointing, and we hope to return next year on a calm day. It's also an area worth exploring just for its hills, steep gorges, limestone cliffs and caves. Mile upon mile of wildness sticks in your memory. For Bruce, that day might also stay memorable for the tick he acquired, and neither of us will soon forget the haunting bark of The Beast.

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The Butterflies of La Batère

9/2/2017

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By Bruce Hyde

There is always something very special about nature in Roussillon. Whether it is the clarity of the light that brought the Fauvists to Collioure or the clean air itself in the higher Pyrenees, one is always rewarded with something unusual if one looks carefully around. We have found the area near the Tour de Batère to be particularly fortunate for us with the range of less common wildlife we have seen. I have photographed golden eagles and griffon vultures, but for sheer numbers the top prize goes to butterflies.

Butterflies have been around for a long time with fossils dating to the Palaeocene, about 56 million years ago. With the clean Pyrenean air at the height of La Batère, around 1300 metres, vegetation is lush where sheltered out of the wind. This means plenty of wild flowers, whose nectar is one of the main foods for butterflies.

On a single visit to the area in early autumn last year Lesley and I counted 29 different species of butterfly. Some of these were firsts for me, and consequently I had occasional difficulties in making identifications. In this I was helped by Roger Gibbons whose extensive website http://www.butterfliesoffrance.com/ is an excellent resource. I am relatively happy about the identifications, and such errors as there may be are wholly mine.

This blog includes photos of each species we saw and photographed, in no particular order with a few hopefully interesting facts about each.

Blues are a large family, and are well known for sometimes perching on wet ground. Here are some Adonis Blues taking in nutrients from the damp soil.

Adonis Blue male (Polyommatus bellargus)

In addition we saw Brown Argus (a type of Blue despite the name), Turquoise Blue
and Common Blues.

Brown Argus (Aricia agestis)

Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus)

Turquoise Blue (Plebicula dorylas)

Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus)

The Ringlet family is quite diverse. A new species to me was the Autumn Ringlet, which has a very restricted distribution in France, seemingly limited to the South and the Pyrenees. This specimen looks to be a dark example.

Autumn Ringlet (Erebia neoridas)

Another Ringlet we saw was the Piedmont Ringlet. Its range is slightly less restricted than its Autumn cousin.

Piedmont Ringlet (Erebia meolans)

The Oxford English Dictionary derives the name "butterfly" straightforwardly from Old English butorfleoge, butter-fly; similar names in Old Dutch and Old High German show that the name is ancient. A possible source of the name is the bright yellow male of the Brimstone. Although not as yellow as they can come, this one demonstrates the point. A similarly yellow butterfly is the Clouded Yellow.

Brimstone (Gonepteryx rhamni)

Clouded Yellow (Colias crocea)

The Comma is widespread; with its ragged edges it resembles a dead leaf when the wings are closed. It is so called because of the white mark resembling a comma on the underside.

Comma (Polygonia C-album)

There are nearly 50 different members of the fritillary family in Europe, of which over a quarter are known in our area of France. We saw five different fritillaries during our visit, plus one sub-species. The Dark Green and High Brown were firsts for me.

Dark Green Fritillary (Argynnis aglaja)

High Brown Fritillary (Argynnis adippe)

Glanville and Queen of Spain fritillaries are quite widespread and not uncommon at lower levels.

Glanville Fritillary (Melitaea cinxia)

Queen of Spain Fritillary (Issoria lathonia)

The Silver Washed fritillary is quite common throughout Europe. As it is normally not seen above around 1,500 metres, the examples we saw were near the limit of its height range. We saw the main species Argynnis paphia as well as the dimorphic sub-species Argynnis paphia valezina, which is differentiated by its duller colouring and a greenish cast overall.

Silver-washed Fritillary (Argynnis paphia)

Silver-washed Fritillary (Argynnis paphia valezina )

Common enough at low levels is the Great Banded Grayling. It has a habit of perching on tree branches, presumably for camouflage.

Great Banded Greyling (Brintesia circe)

Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui)

The Painted Lady is a remarkable butterfly. It exists all around the world with the exception of S. America. It indulges in sometimes massive migrations. The migration, which is a return event, can cover 6,000 kilometres. The life span of a Painted Lady is only 5-8 weeks so the migration is a multi-generational happening, with the finally returning individuals being 6 generations removed from their ancestors. For more information see my blog "Butterflies" (click to go to the blog) of 31st August 2015.

The Large Skipper is actually tiny, but well named as it skips very rapidly from plant to plant. Also quite small is the Sooty Copper, which is widespread in France and can be seen up to around 2,500 metres.

Large Skipper (Ochlodes sylvanus)

Sooty Copper (Lycaena tityrus)

The Browns (Satyrinae) is a sub-family of the Nymphalidae. There were some lovely examples three of which were new to me - Large Wall (sub-species Lasiommata maera adrasta, which is limited to Spain and the Mediterranean), Pearly Heath and Small Heath.

Large Wall (Lasiommata maera adrasta)

Pearly Heath (Coenonympha arcania)

Small Heath (Coenonympha pamphilus)

Although their names are similar the Large White - also called Cabbage White - and the Marbled White come from completely different families (Pieridae and Nymphalidae respectively). About 10 years ago Marbled White and its close relative Iberian Marbled White were very common around our area; they now seem to be a lot scarcer.

Large White (Pieris brassicae)

Marbled White (Melanargia galathea)

Two related butterflies are the Peacock and Red Admiral. Both are well known and widespread throughout Europe. They both hibernate as adults over the winter, reappearing between March and May; they have one brood each year.

Peacock (Aglais io)

Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta)

Peacock (Aglais io) - plain underside.

Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta)

There are plenty of Scarce Swallowtails in mainland Europe despite the name, but they are absent from UK (which is possibly how they got the name in the first place). This specimen is from the Scarce Swallowtail subspecies Iphiclides podalirius feisthamelii, which is restricted to the SE. Pyrenees and Spain.

Scarce Swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius feisthamelii)

As well as the Blues seen taking salts and minerals from damp soil we came across the Small White, probably the most common butterfly in Europe.

Small White (Pieris rapae)

Related to each other and similar in size are Gatekeeper and Speckled Wood. Both are quite common throughout Southern France.

Gatekeeper (Pyronia tythonius)

Speckled Wood (Pararge aegeria)

While not taken to appreciating volume when I observe nature, I have to admit to being rather happy with having seen so many different species of butterfly at one fairly brief visit. We were there in early autumn, and a return visit in late spring seems like it will be time well spent.

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Habitat Change

2/11/2016

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By Bruce Hyde

While I have always known that certain dragonfly species like certain habitats, I did not realise what a difference even small changes can make. Sometimes, usually I suppose, these changes can be gradual, but sometimes they can be dramatic.

Recently I visited two small areas by the river Tech, which I hadn't been to for about a year. I was very surprised to find that in one place there were no dragonflies at all, and in the other there were very few. In each location I had seen around 15-20 different species in the past. One would not necessarily expect to see them all at the same time, but even so to see none at all was quite a surprise.

Large Pincertail (Onychogomphus uncatus) Chevaine Catalan - one of the rarer species previously found here.

This set me thinking - why should there have been such a change in a relatively short period of time? After all, there had been no major weather events in the last year.

What I believe had happened was that the riverside vegetation had grown rapidly and the change had caused the dragonfly and damselfly populations to move to more acceptable locations. The ones I had previously seen here were all species that liked fairly slow flowing or still water, with vegetation on the bank that was quite low, offering plenty of places for them to perch in the sunlight.

One damselfly that seems to have moved on is the attractive Common Bluetail.

Common Bluetail female (Ischnura elegans rufescens) L'Agrion élégant

Another very common damselfly now absent from that particular spot is the White Featherleg.

White Featherleg male (Platycnemis latipes) L'Agrion blanchâtre

As an example of slow changes, these two photographs taken from roughly the same place, and under two years apart, show the extent to which vegetation has grown in a shortish period of time. Even though the seasons are quite different you can see how much growth has taken place.

Near Moulin de Breuil January 2015 and September 2016

When a major weather event arrives, such as a big storm or a prolonged period of heavy rain, it is not surprising that the habitat, and the species in it, change.

As an example of this, during the winter of 2010/11 there was a period of prolonged rainfall resulting in enormous amounts of water coming down the river Tech from the slopes of Canigou. These floods caused the level of water at Le Boulou to rise 6 metres above its normal level. This meant that the weight of water rushing through the river basin caused even large trees to be swept away, which in turn devastated the lesser vegetation on the river banks. Even local landmarks such as large trees and bushes disappeared.

The size of the tree trunks and the height of the log jam gives some idea of how high the water was.

The following photos were taken from the identical place before and after the big inundation. From lush growth to absolute desolation - note Canigou peeping up in the background.

What is really surprising is that anything living in the water can survive the massive flooding and pounding of stones, rocks and detritus. Dragonflies usually spend the winter underwater as larvae, eating other aquatic insects and, sometimes, other dragonfly larvae. They emerge in the spring and early summer and develop into the beautiful flying insects with which we are all so familiar. I don't know how they survive such turmoil. Nevertheless, even fish survive such conditions.

Common Carp (Cyprinus carpio) Carpe Commune

Catalan Chubb (Squlius laietanus) Chevaine Catalan

Of course, when habitats change, local species that can fly will move elsewhere, so all one has to do is track them down again! Fish just have to adapt to their new environment. One is reminded that the ever-changing landscape is all part of nature, and ecology has been evolving since the beginning of time; and it is also part of the Darwinian process of survival of the fittest.

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Featherleg Differences

11/1/2016

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by Bruce Hyde

Dragonflies (the order Odonata) have two suborders - dragonfly (anisoptera meaning unequal wings) and damselfly (zygoptera meaning equal wings).

dragonflies (anisoptera) are larger and very much more obvious when you see them flying around.
damselflies (zygoptera) are normally quite small, and if you are not looking out for them you can easily walk right by without seeing them at all.

Having talked in an earlier blog about differences in one dragonfly species, Pincertails, I am going to cover a genus of damselfly which has 3 species in France: the Featherleg.

Damselflies are dainty insects. Featherlegs measure about 30 - 35 millimetres long overall, and their abdomen is only just over 1 mm thick. So certain parts of the body from which positive identifications can sometimes be made are very small - indeed some of the details on the pronotum (see further on) measure about one tenth of a millimetre across. In itself this presents useful photographic challenges (particularly as in getting my photos I never disturb the insect any more than possible, and never catch them).

The Featherleg (Platycnemis) forms in France are

White (P.latipes/L'Agrion blanchâtre)
Blue (P.pennipes/L'Agrion à larges pattes)
Orange (P. acutipennis/L'Agrion orangé)

Until recently I had thought that all three species were resident in our area, and I was having a lot of difficulty in determining which was which in my photo library, especially some of the females. I then looked more closely at a map in "Les Libellules de France, Belgique et Luxembourg" by Daniel Grand and Jean-Pierre Boudot - and life became easier. For some reason (unknown), in this South Eastern corner of France, the Blue featherleg is absent from Pyrénées-Orientales and rare in Aude. Thus the Orange and White forms are almost certainly the only ones I have been seeing. (At the same time one has to be aware that there just might be individual vagrants of the Blue form flying in from neighbouring areas).

So here are the 2 species this blog is about -

Typical Males

White Featherleg male (Platycnemis latipes)

Orange Featherleg male (Platycnemis acutipennis)

Superficially there is not a lot of difference between the males, except for the colour of the abdomen. However the females are very alike and, as always, the devil is in the detail!

Before going any further, lets look at some of the basic parts of a damselfly's anatomy.

Orange Featherleg female (Platycnemis acutipennis)

The Latin word Platycnemis comes from the Greek "platos" meaning flat and "cnernis" meaning shin. The tibia of the hind leg is wide and flat, more so in the case of the White Featherleg than the Orange, and all the legs have hairy bristles giving a somewhat feathery appearance.

Flat tibia with hairy edges

White Featherleg male (Platycnemis latipes)

There are a number of details of the insect's body from which one can make a positive identification. Thorax, abdomen and legs are all useful, although more so collectively than individually. In the case of females, the pronotum at the front of the thorax will give a positive ID, but it needs a very clear view, in good focus, as it is so very tiny (more about this later).

Featherlegs often have a double stripe running along the side of the thorax - the antehumeral stripe. While this feature is diagnostic of a featherleg, it is not always present.

White Featherleg male (Platycnemis latipes)

Males can quickly be distinguished from females by the appendages at the end of the abdomen. Male appendages are claw shaped to grasp the female when they are mating. Female appendages are contained in the swollen end of the abdomen.

White Featherleg male appendages

White Featherleg female appendages

When mating they often form into a heart shape, which is quite charming -

White Featherlegs mating (Platycnemis latipes)

Males of the two species are separated by their colour when they are mature; females tend to be similarly coloured and are distinguished by features of their pronotum (see below) and to some extent by leg markings.

Male Featherlegs
The typical male White featherleg has a white abdomen, often looking porcelain-like or translucent, whereas its Orange counterpart has an orange body. They both have blue eyes and there are black markings on the last few segments of the abdomen, although the extent of these is variable.

White Featherleg male (Platycnemis latipes)

Orange Featherleg male (Platycnemis acutipennis)

Looking more closely at the legs it can be seen that the White has got broader, flatter tibias than the Orange.

White Featherleg male, broader, flatter tibias.

Orange Featherleg male, tibias less broad

Male Whites have a stripe running down the middle tibia which extends about one third of the way; this stripe is usually absent from the hind tibia. The Orange has a stripe on the middle tibia which goes all the way down, and one on the hind tibia that goes about half way down. These features are diagnostic of the male (females are different).

White Featherleg male, middle tibia stripe

Orange Featherleg male, middle and hind tibia stripes

The eyes of all featherleg species, both male and female, are widely spaced. In the case of males they are an attractive blue colour.

White Featherleg male eyes (Platycnemis latipes)

Orange Featherleg male eyes (Platycnemis acutipennis)

Female Featherlegs
The females are harder to tell apart. Although the typical Orange female often has a darker coloured abdomen, this is not always so as the colour probably darkens as the insect get older. Immature females of both species are very similar.

Typical Females

White Featherleg female (Platycnemis latipes)

Orange Featherleg female (Platycnemis acutipennis)

The tibias of the female White are not as broad as the male, and in the case of the Orange they are not broadened at all. Unlike the males, the stripes on the tibias cannot reliably be used for identification, although in the Orange the stripes usually go at least half way down the tibia on all legs.

The eyes of both featherlegs are variable, some having blue patches and others being brownish for instance; the colours can look as though they are in layers. Here are a couple of examples.

White Featherleg female (Platycnemis latipes)

Orange Featherleg female (Platycnemis acutipennis)

Pronotum
The most certain way of separating a female White featherleg from an Orange is by carefully examining the pronotum. This is not easy and one has either to be very close indeed or have a detailed photo.

This picture shows the pronotum of a female White featherleg. It is shaped like an inverted "V" on top of the thorax where the front legs join. In this case the colour is light brown, but it can vary and is sometimes black.

White Featherleg female (Platycnemis latipes) pronotum

The White featherleg's pronotum has a clear lump on the top, is a bit knobbly and has very small bumps on each side at the lower end.

Compare this with the pronotum of an Orange featherleg where, instead of small bumps, there are large spikes (technically "sublateral spines"). This feature may not be very obvious as the distance across the body from spike to spike is only about 1mm; this added to the relative shyness of Orange featherlegs makes the getting of detailed pictures quite difficult.

Orange Featherleg female (Platycnemis acutipennis) pronotum spike

A slight aid to identification is the flight season. White featherlegs fly from mid-June until late September with the main months being July and August. Orange featherlegs fly from late May until mid-August, with the main months being June and July. These periods are not fixed and can be a week or two longer at either end.

Featherlegs like slowly running water such as some reaches of the River Tech, although I have seen them on canals.

They are often approachable, especially the Whites which almost seem to enjoy being on camera!

Damselfly habitat on the River Tech

Males like to perch on low vegetation near a river bank, and search for prey and mates with a slow zig-zagging or bouncing flight. Their wide tibias are not used in courtship, but as threatening behaviour to other males of the same species in flight.

Both the featherleg types in this blog are found in southern France, the Orange occupying south of a line from roughly the Cherbourg peninsula to Monaco, and the White south of a line from Bordeaux to Monaco.

In this blog I am referring only to featherlegs I have photographed on the banks of the river Tech near Montesquieu-des-Albères. In other areas of France they may have slightly different characteristics and may be easier (or harder) to identify.

There is little better than sitting in the shade on a river bank on a sunny day watching the fascinating behaviour of these tiny insects.

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A Carp Out and In.

26/11/2015

1 Comment

By Bruce Hyde

On a still, warm morning at the end of September I was walking along the bank of the river Tech.

Normally that particular stretch is deserted, but on this occasion I saw a tent pitched near a gap in the bankside vegetation. It turned out that a fisherman was camped there; he was with his wife and small son - they may possibly have been there all night as night fishing for carp is popular.

As I arrived he had a fish on his line and was bringing it in to the river bank, very slowly and carefully. He took quite some time to land it, both to take care not to lose the fish as well as not to damage it.

I watched the process with interest and, having asked if he minded, took a few photographs.

With the fish alongside, he called on his son to bring him the landing net; the boy was small and the net was large.

He very painstakingly coaxed the fish into the net. It did not make too much of a fuss, and it occurred to me that perhaps it had been caught before, and was used to the process (or perhaps a fish brain does not work that way!).

The fish - a large carp - was gently transferred from the net to a landing mat where the hook was slowly removed from its mouth.

The hooks are without barbs so that the fish is not damaged. A side effect of this is that it makes the process of bringing the fish to land more difficult.

The fisherman then held the carp up to show me. He said it weighed around 7 kilos - it really looked a handsome specimen.

The carp was then delicately returned to the river where it lazily swam off, apparently none the worse for the experience.

What impressed me most was the fastidiousness with which the fish was handled and returned to the river. Clearly the angler took nature seriously, and preservation and protection were uppermost in his mind.

I have seen carp swimming in the Tech many times - there is a particularly good viewpoint on a bluff above the river - but have not been standing by when one has been caught.

It was good to see catching wild life for sport going hand-in-hand with conservation.

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Butterflies

31/8/2015

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by Bruce Hyde

The Chinese philosopher Zuangzi wrote about 2,500 years ago "I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamed of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?".

More recently Dolly Parton sang "Love is like a butterfly, as soft and gentle as a sigh...." - all of which shows that butterflies are quite special and appeal to everyone's imagination. Someone said to me the other day that it was a shame such beautiful creatures only live for a day - which set me thinking. While some insects are as short-lived as this, butterflies are not, so I have written this blog on their lifespan.

Languedoc-Roussillon has some 327 different butterflies, representing about 75% of species which exist in metropolitan France. In size they vary from the very tiny (no bigger than the nail of a little finger) to large (more than 5cm from wingtip to wingtip). As general rule, the larger it is, the longer its life as a flying insect.

Green Hairstreak (Callophrys rubi) - very small, perhaps 1cm overall

Common Swallowtail (Papilio machaon gorganus) more than 6.5 cm from wingtip to wingtip.

How long do they live?

This depends on many things and varies greatly. It depends on the size and species of the butterfly, where it lives, and what time of year it became an adult.

If there is an average life span of an adult (as a flying insect), it is about one month. Although the smallest will usually only survive for about one week, some of the larger ones can live for about nine months.

Butterflies are cold-blooded creatures, so climate and temperature make a difference to length of life. For instance, if the egg is laid just before cold weather, it will stay in egg-form until the weather warms, when the caterpillar will emerge. If the butterfly is an adult and it starts to turn colder (and it does not migrate south), it will hibernate somewhere until the weather warms. What this means is that the insect could technically live for many months past the average life span, dependent on climate and what stage of life it is in when winter comes.

During their lives as adults, they suffer the slings and arrows of misfortune. They can become rather tatty and often their wings become quite ragged, probably due to unfortunately close encounters with birds.

A rather tatty Meadow Brown (Maniola jurtina)

Life Cycle
All butterflies undergo "complete metamorphosis." In order to grow into adults they go through four stages, each with a particular objective:

eggs hatch into caterpillars
caterpillars need to eat a lot
pupas house the metamorphosis stage
adults reproduce.

Dependent on species, climate and habitat, the whole cycle may take anywhere from one month to a year.

Egg
A butterfly starts life as a very small, round, oval or cylindrical egg, the shape being dependent on the species. They are usually laid on the leaves of plants.

Caterpillar
The egg hatches and the caterpillar emerges. The egg is always laid on the type of leaf the caterpillar will eat – each species liking only certain types of leaves.

They grow quickly. When born, they are small; when they start eating, they grow rapidly. Their exoskeleton (skin) does not stretch or grow, so they moult several times.

Common Swallowtail (Papilio machaon) in the caterpillar stage

Pupa (Chrysalis)
As soon as a caterpillar is fully grown it turns into a pupa, also known as a chrysalis.
Within this the old body parts undergo a metamorphosis to become the adult butterfly.

Adult
When it emerges, both of the wings are soft and folded against its body. As soon as it has rested, it will pump blood into the wings in order to get them working – and then fly. Usually within a three or four-hour period, the butterfly will master flying and will search for a mate in order to reproduce.

In this fourth and final stage they are constantly on the look out to reproduce. The butterfly life cycle then starts again.

Iberian Marbled Whites mating (Melanargia lachesis)

What happens to them in the winter?
Some species, including the Peacock, the Red Admiral and the Small Tortoiseshell, hibernate as adults. On warm winter days they will sometimes be seen flying or basking in the sunshine.

Most survive the winter as eggs, caterpillars or pupas; the Green Hairstreak and the Swallowtail above, for instance, both hibernate as a pupa, the Green Hairstreak usually among stones, leaves or moss at the base of trees or shrubs.

How many broods?
Some butterflies are univoltine, meaning one brood or generation each year. Others are bivoltine or even, like the Painted Lady (picture below), trivoltine.

Those with a short life-cycle can produce from one to three generations in a year. The Green Hairstreak (above) has only one and is normally seen flying between March and June. At the opposite end of the scale Lang's Short-tailed Blue (Leptotes pirithous), also a small species, is polyvoltine, has a complete cycle of 4-8 weeks and can be seen flying from February to October.

Lang's Short-tailed Blue (Leptotes pirithous)

Migration
This happens to a few species. The best known is probably the Monarch which moves in large numbers northwards from Mexico into the USA each year.

Better known in Europe is the Painted Lady (Vanessa cardhui). This remarkable butterfly seems to follow a 10-year cycle of massive population explosions, the last one being in 2009. Following a huge springtime emergence in N. Africa millions of individuals head north into Europe including UK, sometimes travelling over 6,000 kilometres from their point of origin.

Painted Lady (Vanessa cardhui)

Until recently it was not known what happened then, but new research now shows that there is a return autumn migration, but at high altitude - typically 500 metres. This is above the level where they can be observed by eye, but they have been tracked on radar. The very odd thing is that a Painted Lady's life cycle is only 5-8 weeks. This means that the returning Painted Ladies are up to six generations removed from those which migrated originally. Nature is truly remarkable.

For more on this phenomenon see the list of useful websites below.

In Conclusion
It seems to me that there have been fewer butterflies around our area this year. This view is completely subjective and it could just be that I have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am certain, however, that the number of Marbled Whites (Melanargia) has been reducing each year for a number of years; they used to be plentiful but this year (2015) they have been quite scarce. I don't know why.

Having been inspired to write this blog by comments about how long butterflies might live, subsequent research has shown me even more how fascinating these beautiful insects are and how astonishing and complex nature can be.

Please follow this link to go to my gallery where you can see some of the delightful butterflies found in this region.

Information can be found on-line in the following places, among others:
_
www.thebutterflysite.com
atlas.libellules-et-papillons-lr.org
http://www.leps.it/
http://butterfly-conservation.org/5183-2342/painted-lady-migration-secrets-revealed.html

and of course Wikipedia.

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Dragonfly Differences

10/3/2015

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Large vs Small Pincertails (Onychogomphus uncatus vs. forcipatus)

My first interest in dragonflies came from their often vivid colours, and the sheer difficulty of photographing them in their swiftly-moving, jerking flight patterns. They are one of the very few animals that can fly up, down, backwards, forwards and sideways.

I have become fascinated by the sheer difficulty of distinguishing one species of dragonfly from another. Despite helpful pictures in many books, it can often be hard to make a good and accurate ID.

In an earlier blog "Oh! So Similar" I talked about the way that many dragonflies at first seem to look so alike. Now I am going to look at two species of dragonfly that are very like each other and show what I feel are good ways of telling them apart. The species is Pincertails (Onychogomphus in Latin).

This commentary covers only Pincertails found in the Mediterranean area of S. France that lies at the foot of Les Albères in the Pyrenees, near the river Tech.

There are two species of Pincertail (Onychogomphus) in this area - Large and Small Pincertails. They are called Pincertails because of the eye-wateringly substantial male appendages; these are used during copulation by the male to grasp the female. Telling the difference between Large and Small can be tricky as the overall sizes of the two are not all that different.

Large Pincertail male (Onychogomphus uncatus)

Small Pincertail male (Onychogomphus forcipatus)

The male "Pincer Tail" - Small Pincertail (Onychogomphus forcipatus)

I have found the Large Pincertail to be the less common of the two, having only seen 2 examples. It appears they are less plentiful in the lower reaches of rivers, existing at heights of up to 800 metres, and as a species is rarer than the Small Pincertail.

The Small Pincertail has three subspecies, of which only one is found in this area (Onychogomphus forcipatus ssp. unguiculatus). All O. forcipatus pictures in this blog are of the subspecies.

In telling the difference between Large and Small there are three (fairly) visible markings which are usually straightforward to identify and are diagnostic.

Starting at the front with the first of these diagnostic markings -

In the Small Pincertail (O. forcipatus) the vertex - the black area between the eyes - has got a small yellow mark.

Small Pincertail (O. forcipatus) yellow vertex mark

The Large Pincertail (O. uncatus) has an all-black vertex.

Moving back a little for the second diagnostic marking -

Both species have a yellow collar at the front of the thorax (not always easy to see). In the Large Pincertail this is broken by a black bar.

Large Pincertail (O. uncatus) Yellow collar broken by black line

The Small Pincertail lacks this black break.

Small Pincertail (O. forcipatus) No break in collar

Finally the third diagnostic marking -

In the back wing, both species have got a triangular area close to the body at the rear of the wing called the anal triangle.

In the case of the Large Pincertail male this triangle contains four cells...

Large Pincertail (O. uncatus) Four cells in anal triangle

....whereas the Small Pincertail male's anal triangle contains only three cells

Small Pincertail (O.forcipatus) Three cells in anal triangle

There are other markings that can be used or ID, but in the pincertails I have seen these are either quite variable and therefore not really diagnostic (see below) or require the dragonfly to be caught for detailed observation (for instance tiny differences in the tail pincers).

In the case of the Small Pincertail below there are two curving black lines running front to back on each side of the top of the thorax; these should be joined about half way along by another curving black line. On one side the line clearly joins but on the other not very clearly.

Small Pincertail (O. forcipatus) Do the lines join?

A comment on nomenclature.
In the case of many dragonflies there tend to be different English names for each species. These vernacular names need to be as user-friendly as possible. The names proposed in a classic reference work by Klass-Douwe Dijkstra (K-DD) - "Field Guide to the Dragonflies of Britain and Europe"- are becoming widely preferred, mainly because they are more descriptive. The British Dragonfly Society (BDS) names can have a more regional focus.

For example the Small Pincertail (K-DD) is also called Green-eyed Hooktail (BDS); in our area these have blue eyes (a Mediterranean trait, see photo above), and the name Hooktail is less descriptive than Pincertail.

Elsewhere in the world (e.g. USA) names can yet again be different. There is a need to standardise international names for European species, and currently we are seeing polarisation rather than consensus.

The definitive name is always the Latin one. Even so, this is not always clear as there is discussion on which species a dragonfly belongs to (especially in the case of sub-species - is it a variant of an existing species, or an evolving/evolved new species).

Dijkstra BDS French Latin

Pincertails Hooktails Gomphidé Onychogomphus
Large Pincertail Blue-eyed Hooktail Le Gomphe à Crochets Onychogomphus uncatus
Small Pincertail Green-eyed Hooktail Le Gomphe à Pinces Onychogomphus forcipatus

Challenging photography....
It is quite clear that making a good ID requires detailed observation. Many of the details are not possible to see without first catching the insect, either because what you want to see is very small or just hidden away from view. I never catch dragonflies; my wish is to leave them as undisturbed as possible. This means that I rely on photographs.

The trick is knowing which anatomical parts of which species require detailed photos - and then getting into a position where one can get the shot. Even the most approachable of insects will tolerate only a limited amount of photographic time, and there are many which are either very shy or on the wing most of the time. Bearing in mind that the feature one is trying to photo may be only a fraction of a millimetre in size, awkward to view and obscured by foliage, and one can understand how challenging it is!

To come....
The next blog in this series will be looking in detail at a small and dainty damselfly - the Featherleg (Platycnemis). There are three species of Featherleg in our area, but two of them are really difficult to sort out - especially the females.

A further blog will look at the habitats these delightful creatures live in, how difficult it can be to get the "right" photos and ways to tackle the problem.

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La Tour de Batère

3/10/2014

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by Lesley McLaren and Bruce Hyde

As Robin and Martine’s recent blog shows, this spot in the mountains never fails to disappoint. From vast, wooded slopes as far as the eye can see, to small bugs around your feet, there’s always something of interest. But when Bruce and I went there at the beginning of October, I have to admit to not so secretly hoping we (that is to say, Bruce) might get a photo of a large raptor or two. With the autumn migration underway, who knew what might fly by: Egyptian vulture, booted eagle, honey buzzard ... and there was just a chance those vultures Robin and Martine saw might still be hanging around. I so wanted to see those.

It was Bruce’s first trip to the area, so I’ll hand over to him:

The road from Les Albères into the high Mediterranean Pyrenees climbs past Amélie-Les-Bains and Arles-sur-Tech. The Canigou is often visible, majestically appearing between other mountain peaks as you head upwards. Turn off the main road after Arles-Sur-Tech and take a typical country road - well, typical for the Pyrenees - as it twists and turns, ever narrower, ever more windy, and ever more awe inspiring to the faint hearted.

After more than 15 tight hairpin bends you finally arrive at the Col de la Descarga, about 1,400 metres above sea level, where you leave the car and walk. Here, we are on the tree line. Along the piste that leads towards the ruins of the Tour de Batère there is abundant wildlife, the exciting thing being that the species are often quite different from those that we are used to seeing at lower levels in Les Albères.

La Tour de Batère

Puig de L'Estelle area

Above this piste rises the Puig de L'Estelle, which even though it is 1,778 metres high is still dwarfed by the mighty Pic du Canigou which at 2,784 metres is only about 9 kilometres to the West as the eagle flies. Sheep and cattle graze, as well as wild horses, several of which cantered past us having been disturbed by some hang-gliders.

On muddy patches beside the piste we saw a number of butterflies. Lots of blues included Adonis Blue and Common Blue. Others included Autumn Ringlet, Small Heath, Small Copper and Wall. Of these I have only seen Common Blue and Wall (often) and Small Heath (once) at our lower levels - perhaps it is the clean air and unspoilt surroundings at these heights. (nb. Hover cursor over photos below for captions)

Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus)

Wall Brown (Lasiommata megera)

Small Heath (Coenonympha pamphilus)

Adonis Blue (Polyommatus bellargus)

Autumn Ringlet (Erebia neoridas)

Small Copper (Lycaena phlaeas)

But there remains a mystery. We saw two grizzled skippers, and can't make a positive ID on them and are not sure if they are even the same. They were a little bit bigger than blues, and could be either Foulquier's (P.bellieri) or Oberthur's (P.armoricanus). Currently the money's on Oberthur’s but the jury's still out!

Oberthur's Grizzled Skipper (Pyrgus armoricanus)?

Bruce’s patience capturing these tiny and extremely lively butterflies on film was impressive. There were so many that day and I especially loved the small clouds of blues congregating around the spring water.

But what about those birds? Neither they, nor Bruce and his camera, were to disappoint!

At the start of our walk, when the three hang gliders suddenly rose out of the valley behind the car park, I was both surprised and, to be honest, upset. The horses’ reaction alone showed how intrusive they were – even though completely silent. But I had to put my annoyance to one side when I spotted something else in the sky and realised not just horses were being driven towards us, but five or six griffon vultures as well.

We had magnificent views. With their scrawny necks pulled in during flight, their heads looked quite white as they soared across the grassy slopes and over the ridgeline. And occasionally, as they turned, the sun would pick up the two-tone colouring on their backs.

And what fantastic shots Bruce got. Birds are notoriously difficult to photograph – especially in flight.

Griffon Vulture

As we climbed up and along the flank of the Puig de L'Estelle, cattle and sheep mingled with the horses. It was hot and sunny that day and, at lunchtime, while we had our picnic, more and more sheep lay down for a snooze. This prompted regular fly-pasts by the griffons, checking, no doubt, that everyone was still breathing. I say fly, but griffons don’t flap once airborne. They glide. Effortlessly. What it must feel like to do that. I can see the attraction to hang gliding after all!

Just as thrilling was the sight of a golden eagle at the start and end of our trip. Through the binoculars, I wasn’t 100% sure of identification – having only seen about three or four in my life. But the photo below confirms identification, and those residual white patches on the tail and wings show the bird was a sub-adult. Robin is more experienced at watching these eagles and thinks, from the photos, that this one might be five or six years old – still classed as sub-adult, though. The poor thing was quietly going about its business, not out to cause trouble, but one or two alpine choughs left the main flock on the ridgeline anyway – to harry it on its way.

Golden Eagle

I kept an eye and ear out for the peregrine that Robin and Martine thought they glimpsed last time, but no joy. We saw the kestrel several times, though, either perched on top of one of the short conifers, or hovering. I wondered if it was a normal or lesser kestrel, but that remains a mystery. For now. This is clearly her territory, so a closer view another day might tell us more. No unusual migrants, but hey – you can’t have everything in one day!

There’s always a reason to go back here.

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The High Pyrenees

A Walk on the Wild Side

By Bruce Hyde

In Search of Butterflies at Le Col des Auzines

The Butterflies of La Batère

Habitat Change

Featherleg Differences

A Carp Out and In.

Butterflies

Dragonfly Differences

La Tour de Batère

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