Blog

Those that leave, those that stay, those that pass through … 29 Aug 2021

European Bee-eaters feeding up as they migrate south for the winter

Driving out to the village this morning, the van rattling along, my mind concentrating on nothing more than the track ahead when suddenly I heard them, European Bee-eaters flying south, flying so high they were invisible to the naked eye, and, dammit, I hadn’t brought my binoculars out with me, but their burbling chirrups filled the air overhead, their last goodbyes floating in the breeze.

I saw a previous band, (flock? colony? I’ve even heard “Squadron”), a few days ago as they overnighted in Corte Brique valley. I was there before the sun had cleared the western rim the following morning, shooting the shots above and below through low-lying wisps of overnight fog tangled amongst the branches of their perches, but it wasn’t long before they were off again, ever southward.

As many of the Quinta’s guests know, we’re enthusiastic birders and photographers here, and have long days in the field showing people what’s around, and I’ve been having fun with Little Owls over the last two weeks.

There’s one below if you can spot him …

but let me make it easier, as they’re tricky little devils if they don’t want to be seen.

He’s tucked tight in below those two triangular rocks dead centre, keeping a wary eye on me.

These shots are some of the Little Owls I’ve managed to photograph during the last two weeks.

They’re always a delightful subject, and fairly thick on the ground so we must pass dozens every day without noticing them, but sometimes I’m lucky enough to find small family groups, especially during July, like the one below.

But it’s not always so easy.

Near the Quinta we have our “Water Rail and Kingfisher Hide“, and waiting down there a couple of days ago I noticed a species of bird that only passes through here on migration. It was stuck in behind the first few reeds on the opposite riverbank, stationary, preening, but I couldn’t get a clear shot.

Then it started feeding and slowly made its way towards me – but always keeping just inside the first few reeds.

It was a Sedge Warbler, a regular visitor though one that is only here a few days every year. It’s small, brown, unobtrusive, shy and another master of inconspicuosity.

I dearly wanted to get a good shot, but it was invisible to the naked eye and if I tracked it with my binoculars I might miss the shot if it popped out into the open, so I had to follow it carefully with my camera lens.

My camera and lens are heavy, just under 5.5 kgs, (over 11.5 lbs), and I hadn’t brought my monopod with me. How I cursed quietly under my breath over the next 15 minutes as I struggled to hold its flitting passage through the reeds.

My forearms ached as I followed it slowly ever closer … but then, sadly, it turned, and before long was lost in the deeper reeds.

I never did get a clear view, the best being that below, enough for a clear identification, but not enough for me.

Ahh, well, it just means I’ll have to go down there again, doesn’t it? Next time I’ll remember my monopod!

Despite the awful news that we’re flooded with every day, it is, still, a wonderful world! We must re-double our efforts to leave it intact to our children.

Just a couple of hours … 23 Jun 2021

I managed to have a couple of hours all on my own down at our Water Rail and Kingfisher Hide this morning and it was buzzing – not like a couple of days ago when I sat down there for two hours in the afternoon and saw next to nothing.

First of all came the Common Kingfisher,

followed by a juvenile White Wagtail,

catching insects off the lilly pads. Unlike the other two species of Wagtail in this part of Europe, White Wags prefer a dry habitat and it’s not often that they venture onto water.

Then along came a juvenile Common Moorhen, checking out each individual flower for insects,

followed by one of the local bunch of House Sparrows who always use the same fallen branches off which to drink.

Then, out of nowhere, there was the first of the morning’s Water Rails, a juvenile heading downstream.

Right on the far side of the pool and stealthily making its way through the reeds it was difficult to get a shot, but, just when I was giving it up for a bad job, there was another one, this time right out in the open and making its way upstream. Two juveniles at the same time and both well advanced with no sign of the adults who are probably already on their second clutch.

I managed a few shots as it hunted across the pads,

before it merged into the deep shadow on the far side of the stream where the water level has dropped recently. A whole lot of fun trying to get the camera settings right to get the following shots, so not the best ones, I admit, but not too disrespectful for a skulking brown bird in deep shadow against a dark brown muddy bank …

The Common Kingfisher had flashed by a few times, gone before I could get on to it, but it wasn’t long before it was back, this time successfully catching a small fish,

before perching annoyingly just the wrong side of a bunch of leaves.

Then it was the turn of the original juvenile Water Rail, this time heading upstream again,

being closely followed by a more advanced juvenile Common Moorhen than the first I had seen earlier.

There’d been a Blackcap calling earlier and Golden Orioles’ fluting calls accompanied the morning, but no Nightingales today, just a solitary European Serin for a few seconds.

On the far bank a large group of about 20 Spanish Terrapins clambered one atop the next searching for the best sunbathing spots, every now and again being gripped by mass panic and plopping into the water, only to re-emerge five minutes later to begin the mass scramble up the bank again. These Terrapins live an awfully long time, the ones in the picture below probably in their 50’s or 60’s.

The next caller to the little pool in front of the hide was another juvenile, this time a Grey Wagtail,

a Wagtail that frequents streams and inland waterways. Interestingly it was hunting and catching small fish hiding among the lilly pads.

For the whole two hours a Blue Emperor dragonfly had been cruising its beat backwards and forwards past the hide, so I thought I’d have a go for an in-flight shot and was lucky enough to get this one.

Finally, just as my alarm started buzzing to tell me I had to get back for lunch, an Iberian Chiffchaff paid a quick visit to the bushes on the hide’s side of the stream.

No Otters this morning, nor Southern Water Voles or any other mammals, but there were times when it was a difficult decision to know where to concentrate, and it sure made up for the two hours of nothing two days ago when the weather was decidedly colder and nothing wanted to move at all.

All in all it was a lovely morning!

Another lovely wet winter leaves Santa Clara a tad damp … 18 Feb 2011

Santa-Clara-Feb-2011-8392, originally uploaded by Paradise in Portugal.

Spring is definitely on the way and the first Barn Swallow chicks have hatched in the Quinta’s Library. The days are appreciably longer and today the sun is shining fit to bust, but the last few days and nights Winter threw at us everything it could possibly fling with the result that we’ve lost Turtle Island, Chicken Island is a mere blip in the ocean that is the lake and Santa Clara has a roaring torrent flowing past its door instead of its usual trickle. The pontoon is a jump away from the garden now, (I honestly can’t pull it up any further and will instead build a bridge to get out to it), and there are just three steps from the Summer House lawn into the water.
Yes, I’ve seen it higher, back in November ’97 when we had the worst storm in living memory and the lake came up 3 mts in a single night, but I honestly haven’t seen it as high as this since then. Back then we were hit hard and then followed a drought that only really lifted eleven years later; I wonder what the next eleven years will bring?
In the meantime we’ll relish the proximity of the water to our door and pray that the Câmara, our local County Council, repair the roads that are all falling apart around here – the potholes are simply everywhere; it’s getting as bad as Costa Rica, so we’re glad we’ve had recent practice !

Blog

Categories

Archives