September has arrived, bringing a welcome break in the weather and the daunting prospect of migration for many of our summer visitors. With the new month upon us a trip out with my binoculars was well overdue, so I jumped at the chance to go walking with a friend in the mountains around Trevelez, a new patch of habitat I’d been wanting to explore for some time.
After a picturesque drive up the mountain road to the village we set off on a circular hike that would take us through rolling countryside, oak woodland and stands of conifers…reminding me very strongly of Scotland and mid-Wales.
It wasn’t long before we were watching Lesser Kestrels overhead. No less than eight passed over together, with a slow, deliberate look about them that clearly suggested they were preparing for the long-haul flight south. More followed, until we’d seen maybe a dozen, all going in the same direction back up the valley behind us.
Spotting the difference between the migratory Lesser Kestrel and the resident Kestrel has been one of the more difficult challenges this summer. Detail in the plumage has helped with the males but close views of one individual proved very taxing today. A complete lack of fear suggested a juvenile bird as it perched surprisingly close to the track, allowing us to get unusually close, but the plumage details were such that I would be hard pressed to make the call either way. I think perhaps behaviour could be a key factor here…with the Lesser Kestrels obviously on the move high overhead this bird was, maybe, a Kestrel youngster getting to grips with the world beyond the nest and the reassuring presence of its parents. Hard birdwatching this though…a tough call indeed!
A dark-form Booted Eagle added to the day list as it soared by, seemingly not quite ready to make the break for Africa, content for now to patrol its familiar hillsides. Jays screeched intolerantly and retreated before us, so much more skittish and nervous than they are back home, and a Magpie cackled near a ruin as we pressed on.
In late summer mixed woodland in England can often be unexpectedly quiet, and so it was here as we passed through fantastic slopes of oak trees. Concentrating on walking itself doesn’t really allow for the half hour stops you need in woodland to let the birds come to you, but all of a sudden the day took a massive turn. Crested Tit! A small bird crossed the track in front of us and for the first time in the day I got the binoculars square on it. Confined in the UK to ancient pine forest in the north of Scotland, the Crested Tit can be found in deciduous woodland in southern Europe and I’ve been waiting to see one since I arrived in Spain back in February. One of those birds you simply don’t need to have seen before to recognize instantly, I was close enough to see the thin stripes across its crest and that was it. A life first! Fabulous stuff.
A Spotted Flycatcher, Blue Tits, Coal Tits and Long-tailed Tits quickly followed…unbelievably, I actually went the whole walk without seeing a single Great Tit so I was denied the region’s five species in one day but it didn’t matter. Before long I caught another small movement and I’d seen my second ever Firecrest, the flame-yellow stripe on the back of its head clearly visible as it flitted animatedly between the oak leaves above me.
As the habitat changed we skirted a stand of conifers and I have to say on this particular occasion I was, for a moment, completely clueless. All the bird’s behaviour said Flycatcher…returning to the same perch after snatching insects from the forest floor, with an agitated “tail-twitching” alertness so reminiscent of the Spotted Flycatchers I’ve been seeing everywhere through the last few months, but the plumage was all wrong. And yet, there was something familiar here. Dull brown back, blacker wings with a striking white wing bar and white flashes as it bobbed its dark tail. Finally the penny dropped. Pied Flycatcher. I couldn’t believe it! I’ve been lucky enough to watch these beautiful birds in relic oak woodland back home in early summer, but here was a passage juvenile in first-winter plumage on its way back to Africa as the season was coming to an end. I wonder if it was born on one of my favourite reserves in mid-Wales just a couple of months ago? Glorious! My first Pied Flycatcher ever outside the UK and the second brand new species in Spain of the day.
The day’s exertions were well worth it…we covered over 20km!…and I had discovered some fabulous new habitat to return to. Somewhere I definitely want to put some proper time in. If the rest of the month proves to be as productive I’ll be more than happy. Watch this space for news of what’s passing through as migration down to Africa continues…
