Birding Extremadura

Common Tern - a scarce species in Extremadura (Martin Kelsey) Birding is thriving in Extremadura. This is driven partially by the numbers of people visiting through " turismo ornítologico " - the rather formal-sounding Spanish description for people coming to Extremadura for birding holidays  - but mainly by the growth of birding amongst those who live here, especially young people. There is an email forum with several hundred participants. All this translates to a huge increase in the number of person hours that are being spent in the field, both in terms of participating in survey work and censuses (such as the annual Common Crane census), engagement with eBird (now holding over 13,000 submitted checklists) or simply birding. Couple this with digital photography, better optics and access to first class information, the quality of the observations and increasing skills of the observers, are, I am sure, also improving. And through this, so more and more scarce or rare ...

Bee-eater (John Hawkins) Conclusions of recent research on wildlife populations across Europe make for seriously depressing reading , especially for those of us with memories of what things were. Even in Extremadura, where the populations of larks and Corn Buntings appear still robust, my own notebooks carry testimony of the collapse of species such as Little Bustard and Montagu's Harrier. Rachel Carson's arresting image "Silent Spring" has been retrieved by journalists. And so I face this spring with anxiety, foreboding. The rains only started at the end of February and to date we have already received  since then 86% of last year's entire total of rainfall total recorded in the immediate vicinity of our home. Whilst the landscape now looks luxuriously green, it was striking how the wetter and colder weather delayed flowering of many early species this year and how few butterflies were on the wing in the first half of spring. The result has been bittersweet...

Black Vulture drying its plumage (Martin Kelsey) It has been an extraordinary transformation. Just over two weeks ago the horrendous drought broke and we have barely had a day since when it has not rained. Indeed, in this month alone (and we are only half way through it) we have received over 65% of the rain that fell in the whole of last year. Rivers that had ceased flowing last spring have come back to life, with water thundering down their watercourses. Almonte River in November 2017 (Martin Kelsey) Almonte River in March 2018 (Martin Kelsey) Pools have appeared on the plains and following rain, whole slopes glisten with the run-off, tracing the routes taken by livestock. Land that had been grey and weather-beaten, bereft of hardly any growth apart from resilient sand crocuses, are once again green and spangled by daisies, marigolds and crucifers. Grim visages have been shed and even the most dour of those who live from the land exalt the promise of a spectacular s...

Vortex behaviour by Shoveler (Martin Kelsey) With an unaided eye, they appear like dense, floating mats. There are four of them visible on this small water body, along with a selection of busy evenly-scattered ducks: up-ending Mallards, pootling Shovelers, diving Pochards and Teal nibbling at the water's edge. But there is something about the motion of these mats that intrigue: they are alive. With binoculars the species responsible is instantly recognisable. With brilliant white bows, toffee-brown flanks and bottle-green heads, the drakes are Shovelers, and they seem to outnumber the females. And I become spellbound at what they are up to.  These boldy patterned concentrations of Shoveler are circular in form and are spinning anti-clockwise. These duck mats vary in size, but the one I am watching has over 40 birds. Shoveler swim in to join the cluster, becoming tightly embedded into its form. Almost all of the birds have their bills, or even whole heads, submerged, whilst th...

The homes of the Winter Webworm  Ocnogyna beatica  (Martin Kelsey) I am standing beside pasture in late winter, facing the low sun, and watching the light refracting from silvery patches that freckle the field. They glow like medallions on the green baize of the meadow. I approach one and bend down to take a closer look. The structure is a canopy, closely woven, holding tiny globules of dew which collectively provide the silver sheen on the web. But I am more curious of its inhabitants, for below this tent squirm several hundred tiny caterpillars. They are the Winter Webworm, the larva of a tiger moth Ocnogyna beatica,  a species of the western Mediterranean basin. The Winter Webworm  Ocnogyna beatica  colony (Martin Kelsey) Hatching in the middle of winter, they spend the first few weeks of their lives in these tented colonies. Their diet is catholic, consuming the winter greens of fresh foliage of clovers, mallows, vetches and mustards, and probably...

Migrating Greylag Geese at dawn on 20th January (Martin Kelsey) I have seen a couple of Barn Swallows already this month, and they are most likely to be early returning migrants rather than overwintering birds, but it is still mid-January and, as the proverb says one (or even two) swallows do not make a summer. However, one clue that happened yesterday as I was hanging out the washing was an incontrovertible signal that the wheels of seasonal change are starting to roll - and it summoned a tinge of sadness within me. The sun had yet to break the horizon of the hills to our east, but the House Sparrows were stirring with their chirruping waking conversations. Above this sound came another. It too was conversational but more strident and urgent. It was the honking of geese. Then from the south, and crossing my field of vision, was the skein. This was no short-distance foraging foray. These birds were flying high and with a purpose. They were returning north, Sightings of geese over...

December's leaden skies (Martin Kelsey) I relish the sight of troubled skies, heavy smudged charcoal, brush strokes of cinder-grey. And never more so than above the open steppes of Extremadura, bearing subtle tones of emergent green now. Westerly winds roll the banks of cloud, which fracture to allow angled beams of light to illuminate a distant dehesa , like a moving searchlight. The combination of open terrain and a vast sky creates a multi-dimensional space fully exploited by one group of birds in particular, the raptors. The Extremaduran plains are bird of prey habitat par excellence .  In the first hour of daylight on a winter's morning there is movement. Multitudes of small birds are woven across the pasture. Jerky Meadow Pipits are walking, a fluster of Skylark settles, small parties of Corn Buntings tic-tic in urgent flight above us. There are White Wagtails and Lapwings on the ground. Two Thekla Larks shuffle beside a lichen-dressed piece of ancient slate. An Ibe...