I was chuffed to bits to catch up with these delightful winter visitors not 20 minutes from home. There were just 4 of the 20+ that had been showing an hour or so before I arrived #waxwings.
There are two four flocks local to Cambridge, possibly more. Their preference is for Rowan berries so anywhere you see those, you might see Waxwings. B&Q car parks, bus stations, hospitals etc etc. See my previous post on this specific topic.
Given that it seems we are definitely seeing an irruption winter with sightings all across the UK and some relatively large flocks showing up, chances of catching sight of them are fairly high.
They tend to gather at the tops of tall trees, occasionally calling “trrrreeee, trrrreee, trreeeee” and then dropping down to feast on the berries. They can quickly strip even the most fecund of Rowan trees before moving on, leaving little for the resident blackbirds or any incoming Fieldfares or Redwings (also winter visitors, but thrushes). In the photo below you can perhaps see that the bird’s tongue appears to be barbed. If it is, then that is presumably an adaptation for being able to grab these berries so efficiently. Not how many “ends” on those twigs are missing a berry!
I hadn’t had a chance to see any since early in 2017, which i think was the previous irruption year.
Word on the birding street is that this winter is going to be bright for lovers of one of our winter visitors – the Waxwing, Bombycilla garrulus. This bird is more formally known as the Bohemian Waxwing as opposed to the American bird, the Cedar Waxwing, B. cedrorum. There were quite a few sightings early on in Scotland as these birds that spend the summer much further north than that began to head south.
Waxwing, photographed in Newcastle
Sightings in England have been on the rise as of late November, early December 2023. The nearest relatively large flock for me is in Norwich. Too far for me to make that trip just for the birds. However, word went out that a solitary bird was in trees next to the recreation ground in a village just up the road, Stretham. Usually, the flocks tend to congregate in places with large plantings of berry-laden trees, like rowans, such as supermarket car parks, transport hubs and service stations, as I’ve mentioned before.
A Meadow Pipit in the Spring on Anglesey
It wasn’t such a long twitch to head to Stretham from here to have a look for the bird. I scanned every tree in the vicinity, took a long walk around the village scouting out rowans and cherry trees to no avail.
I didn’t see the Waxwing. I dipped out, as birders say (check out my tongue-in-beak birding glossary for definitions of such terms).
However, I had the Merlin app running on my phone all the while for audio birding, you might say. There was the off-chance that it would pick up the Waxwing calling and I might be able to find it. But, unfortunately, I didn’t. I heard various birds as did the app: Carrion Crow, Collared Dove, Common Pheasant, Common Starling, Eurasian Blue Tit, Eurasian Jackdaw, Eurasian Skylark, European Greenfinch, European Robin, Great Tit, House Sparrow, Long-tailed Tit, Meadow Pipit, Redwing, Rook. All of these birds are quite likely in the area.
The app, however, also claimed to have heard a Hooded Crow, but they are rather rare this far south and I haven’t seen one mentioned in Cambridgeshire for several years. So, I suspect it was a misidentified Carrion Crow call.
Where is the best place to catch sight of one of the most beautiful of winter visitors, when it comes to birds? The Bohemian Waxwing, Bombycilla garrulus.
At one point early in 2024, there were 30+ Waxwing feeding on rowan berries next to a local railway station
You might imagine it would be some delightful hill or vale, a nature reserve, or perhaps a remote woodland. Well, that’s not the case. This distinctive species heads south to the UK when it gets too cold for it in northern parts and when the supply of berries on which it feeds dries up. As of December 2023, it seems like we are in the middle of an irruption of these birds with relatively large numbers turning up in all sorts of places right across the UK.
Best places to see them are where there are lots of trees with lots of berries, rowans and other species. They seem to like to observe their “feeding station” from on high, so if there are other taller trees, like poplar and ash overlooking the rowans, all the better, but tall lamp posts might do just as well as a perch. So, where might those places be? Well, town planners and architects like to put these attractive trees on trading estates, retail parks, next to bus stops and bus stations, science parks, road junctions, brickyards, city parks, pub beer gardens, service stations, school playing fields, supermarket car parks and the like! If you’re very lucky and have a decent feast for them, you might even get them in your garden.
Waxwing feeding on berries in a tree next to a bus stop near Newcastle-upon-Tyne on a grey, drizzly day. This was my first chance to photograph the species.
Just scanning the Birdguides page for recent sightings during this wonderful 23/24 winter irruption of Boho Wx, here are some of the sites:
Tram stop, Didsbury
Quarry, Flintshire
Churchyard, Aldermaston
Cemetery, Romsey
Car park, Garforth
Road junction, Wharfedale
Canal towpath, Aylstone
Road junction, Skipton
Cobbler’s Walk, Bushy Park, London
Car park, Rodborough
Road junction, Leuchars
Road junction, Colchester
Road junction, East Hunsbury
Community centre, Watford
Pub, Tonbridge
Pub, Chafford Hundred
Retail park, Middlesborough
Road bypass, Nescliffe Hill
High School, Earlston
Roundabout, Maresfield
Caravan park, Fife
Airbase, Brize Norton
Road junction, Waltham Cross
Historical building, Rodborough
Car showroom, Elgin
Cricket club, Long Hanborough
Shop, Hailsham
Station car park, Merstham
Roundabout, Thringstone
Nature reserve car park, Hesketh
Birds have incredible visual systems. This is especially true of the birds of prey, the raptors, which includes the hawks, falcons, eagles, buzzards, harriers, owls, and others.
Red Kite staring at me from its perch atop a conifer
Unlike many other types of birds, the raptors have binocular vision, their eyes face forward, like ours, which means they have a 3D view of the world ahead of them. This allows them to pinpoint prey incredibly well even from great distances as is the case with the Peregrine Falcon. That species, and others, also have two fovea, the most sensitive regions of the light-sensitive retinas at the back of their eyes. They use one for homing in on prey from a distance but switch to other for greater precision as they get closer to their prey. There are many other adaptations in raptor vision.
I was photographing a Red Kite recently when I noticed one such adaptation that I hadn’t seen before. The bird was perched atop a conifer and I approached slowly to get a relatively close view without disturbing it. It ignored me to begin with and I got a nice photo of it staring out of the surrounding farmland.
Red Kite takes flight
I took a burst of photos and in one when the bird had turned to stare at me on the ground I could see that half of its face was in sunlight, the other half in the shadow of its beak. If you look closely at my photo, you can see that the pupil of its right eye, the one in the sunlight, is smaller, while the one in shadow is larger. The bird is adjusting pupil size independently depending on how much light is reaching the eyes. This is not something that we humans can do. If one eye is in the light and the other the dark, both pupils will still be the same size.
Closeup of Red Kite showing pupils dilated to a different degree
This is a remarkable adaptation – independent pupil control or pupil asymmetry, also known as anisocoria. It allows many birds to finely adjust the size and shape of each pupil. Anisocoria is a general term for having pupils of different size. Famously, musician David Bowie had a fully dilated left eye pupil having sustained an injury to that eye as a youth. My late mother had a viral infection when she was middle-aged that also left her with an unresponsive, and almost fully dilated pupil in one eye. Apparently, one in five people have anisocoria, but in raptors its a positive trait rather than a problem.
This independent pupil control serves various purposes. One key advantage is the regulation of light entering each eye independently, optimizing vision in different lighting conditions. The ability to control each pupil independently aids in maintaining a stable image on the retina, crucial during activities like flying or hunting, where motion is involved.
Red Kite ruffling its feathers
From an optics point of view, photographers know that a larger aperture on their camera, which is equivalent to the pupil being more dilated in the eye means more light can reach the sensor or film, analogously to reaching the retina. But, this comes at the cost of a shorter depth of field. So, if the camera or eye is focused on a subject, then much of what is closer or further from this focus point will be out of focus or blurred. Make the aperture smaller and there is less light entering camera or eye, but the depth of field is greater.
Another adaptation that many more bird species have is a third eyelid. This is known technically as a nictitating membrane, it lies beneath the upper and lower eyelid and can sweep across the eye independently of the outer two lids. It has usually transparenty or semi-transparent. It has various purposes, fundamentally it acts as a protective layer that closes over the eye when a bird is feeding chicks or killing prey. It can also protect the eye from glare or allow a diving bird to enter the water without being temporarily blind but without the risk of damage from the impact or, again, impact with its prey or objects hidden from view under the water.
One of my Red Kites (there were a dozen around the patch on the day) obliged with a quick view of its nictitating membranes among the burst of photos I took.
In this rather “painterly” zoom and crop you can hopefully discern the Red Kite’s nictitating membranes
I have previously talked about the pupils of another type of bird, the Wood Pigeon, Columba palumbus. In this species, the shape of the pupil seems unusually asymmetric, but this is an illusion due to the presence of a portion of pigment in the eye adjacent to the bird’s pupils.
The illusory unusual shape of a Wood Pigeon’s pupil
Broadly speaking, birders are avian enthusiasts, people interesting in seeing birds. Sometimes birders are twitchers, they like to see a bird so they can “tick” that species off a list, often it involves travelling far from their patch to see a species new to them. Twitchers are often not birders, they’re more akin to collectors, but aren’t necessarily interested in the birds per se. Then there are people with cameras who are also birders, twitchers, or both. Birders and twitchers often refer to these birding photographers as toggers, it’s a rather derogatory word.
Now, if a bird of interest shows up on a patch, the Short-eared Owl for instance, several of which we see out on the Cambridgeshire Fens in winter, then birders, twitchers, and toggers, and every permutation thereof, will generally hear about it and head for the patch, to get a look at the bird through their binoculars, and scopes, to tick their list, and to get that perfect photo.
Often the groups overlap, especially on a small patch, or where there’s a good vantage point. There’s often some sneering among the snobbish members of whichever group who see their particular hobby as being the more righteous.
None of these hobbies have any real claim to righteousness, all of us who indulge are impinging in some way on the wild patch that the birds have chosen to inhabit however temporarily. The presence of humans may well be disrupting the birds’ normal behaviour. So, it’s interesting to hear different people complain about the presence of members of the other groups of enthusiasts if they perceive the activity of the others as being more detrimental to the birds and the environment than their own activity. There is an argument to say that people should leave the wild to the wildlife.
One comment I read on a birding group recently was lamenting the number of people who had turned up at one of our local Cambridgeshire Fens to see and photograph the aforementioned Short-eared Owls (Shorties or SEOs). They said, apparently in all seriousness while lugging their scope up and down the Fen, that all these toggers running around were agitating the birds and making the place like a theme park. They asked the question: “How many photos of one bird do they need?”
Well, without getting into the art and craft of bird photography and why you might need to take more than one photograph, I wonder how they perceive their own position in terms of simply looking at the bird…surely the question might be asked of them “How many times do you need to look at one bird?”
Anyway, I personally feel that I’m just a bird enthusiast with a camera. I don’t think of myself as a proper birder, I don’t know enough. I’m not a twitcher, I’ve rarely “twitched” a species (successfully the European Roller that turned up not far from here, the European Bee-eaters in Norfolk when we were visiting, and the Black-browed Albatross that we failed to see at Bempton Cliffs). And, what photographer would call themselves a “togger”?
Enthusiasts and hobbyists of all creeds need to get over themselves, get over their self-righteousness. They need to not start this kind of argument on a public forum for the sake of assuaging what is probably their own guilt about their hobby and whether it is ethical to impinge on the wild in the first place.
We should all take more care to minimise any detrimental impact we have on wildlife and the environment. And, we should all take care to minimise our snarky comments, which can lead to bad feeling between different factions within a wider community that are to all intents and purposes seeking the same positive satisfaction from their interaction with nature.
At this time of year, you might spot Snow Buntings pecking about the shingle and driftwood on a remote windswept beach, perhaps in north Norfolk or Dorset. One Studland birder tweeted earlier that this species has now reached their shores.
The birds are apparently on the beach edge just north of the nudist beach…
The twitter birder was at pains to point out to anyone who fancies seeing these birds that the nudist track is a “Wellies only track”.
It’s worth adding that there’s also at least one nudist beach where you might see Snow Bunts in north Norfolk. I have no idea whether Wellies are allowed there or not…but it’s less than 10 degrees Celsius up there and taking wind chill into account, I’m sure the local “club” won’t mind you carrying a muff, just in case it gets too nippy.
The Bearded Reedling, Panurus biarmicus, is the only known avian species in its genus. It was originally named the Bearded Tit because of its superficial resemblance to the Long-tailed Tit perhaps, but it is definitely not closely related to that bird nor any other tit.
Female Bearded Reedlings lack the “beard of the males
The odd thing though is that the “bearded” part of its name refers to the facial markings of the males. They have long, droopy-looking black patches either side of their bills, whimsically resembling male facial hair but perhaps sideburns or moustaches rather than a beard. I’ve no idea why it wasn’t originally called the Moustached Tit. Either way, it’s not political correctness that is morphing the tit into the reedling it’s simply that it isn’t a tit, as mentioned.
Male Bearded Reedlings showing his “beard”, which looks more like sideburns or a pair of moustaches
The species is sexually dimorphic, the “clean-shaven” females lack the sideburns/moustaches/beard as well as differing in size and other aspects of their plumage. They’re often quite shy and tend not to show well when it’s windy. That said, you can commonly catch small groups and sometimes larger flocks darting back and forth making their characteristic “pinging”, or “pew-pewing” contact call as the fly. When they settle on a reed, they often shuffle from a lower portion up to the top of the stem. On other occasions, they will dance about the lower parts of the reeds almost at water level.
During the original covid lockdown in March-April of 2020, you may recall that I mentioned an activity known as noc migging. Essentially, it’s birding at night with a microphone and a sound recording device. You record the sounds of birds passing overhead, many birds migrate at night, and then process the recording to pluck out the sounds of our feathered friends for identification. Oh, by the way, here’s my garden birding tick list.
Redwing
You can do the ID by ear or you can use software that analyses the sonogram and selects out the bird calls from the background noise of foxes and deer, motorbikes, cars, and other sounds of the night, and then passes it to ID software. Cornell University’s widely available birding app, Merlin, is a very useful introduction to NocMig and Audio Birding, in general.
Brambling
Of course, there’s an app that can do the recording and the ID all-in-one, and has been for some time: the Merlin app from, Cornell University. Commonly, it’s used by birders and others when they hear a tweet or a chirp when they’re out and about to give them an ID for a sight unseen. The app records and analyses the avian sounds and gives you an ID for the species you’re hearing, usually within a split second. Actually, all that said, you can feed the app bird photos too, for a visual ID.
Goldcrest
I’ve used Merlin sporadically for that purpose for quite some time. But, hearing lots of bird activity in the garden a few days ago I set my phone up with the app running, to hear what was around, even though I could ID most of them, hahah!
Dunnock
I wasn’t surprised by the majority of the IDs that popped up as I could hear the likes of Blackbird, Robin, Starling, Chaffinch, Dunnock, Carrion Crow, Goldfinch, Wren, Great Tit, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Collared Dove, Wood Pigeon, House Sparrow, Rook, Jackdaw, Pied Wagtail, and Magpie and identify them myself.
Rook
There were a few more obscure species that it identified that were a little surprising, Goldcrest, for instance. We have had that species in the garden before and I usually recognise their call but hadn’t noticed them toing and froing in our garden lately. The app also picked up a Redwing, one of the winter thrushes, which is likely to be arriving in our area at this time of year and was presumably flying overhead although I didn’t see it. There was an ID that the app labelled as uncertain – Brambling. I didn’t hear it, but it is nice to imagine that this species might be nearby. It also picked up Ringed Plover. Another I didn’t hear, but interesting to note.
Early morning of Sunday 29th October the app had red dots next to two birds it thinks it picked up – Raven and Barn Owl. Ravens are not commonly seen around here and while Barns Owls are not rare 7:30am over our house seems odd, but who knows? Spotted Flycatcher and Wood Warbler here, at the end of October? Almost certainly not.
Ringed Plover
I later fired up the app on a walk close to one of our local ponds and picked up a perhaps unsurprising Reed Bunting, confirming that I had indeed heard it. After dark that day I was also able to use the app to confirm a solitary Tawny Owl calling from a tree in a neighbour’s garden. Mrs Sciencebase recorded Greenfinch and Bullfinch as well as some others mentioned above on her expedition with friends. We’ve also now had Grey Wagtail over the house.
The app is yet to suggest an ID for anything that would be very unlikely around here. So, I’m taking it on trust that it’s giving me accurate data. The common birds above are definitely seen and heard in this area. The likes of Redwing and Brambling too. We’ve had Redwing in our garden in past winters, although not yet Brambling, just yet…
You can see my complete garden tick list for birds spotted and heard here.
UPDATE: Morning of 30th October 2023. I set up a studio condenser microphone and directed it to record from my office window. I recorded twenty minutes of sound from the mic, saved the file, and fed it to Merlin. It came back with some spurious IDs like Spotless Starling (Mediterranean bird), Verdin (a new world penduline tit), a laughingthrush (Asian/Indian species), Eastern Towhee, a New World sparrow, reported once or twice only on Shetland . But, there were a couple of species that we are likely to have locally that hadn’t been picked up when I was running Merlin with my phone’s mic on previous sessions: Fieldfare (one of our winter thrush visitors along with Redwing), Blackcap (presumably a wintering arrival from east Europe), Song Thrush (relatively common around here).
Blackcap fanning its tail
UPDATE: 30th October 2023 – RSPB Ouse Fen (Over) app and us picked up Bearded Reedling (formerly known as a Bearded Tit), which we saw a dozen of, Cetti’s Warbler (3-4x), Skylark, Meadow Pipit (half a dozen), Crossbill (possibly, we didn’t hear it though). 11th November: Common Redpoll, Siskin, very unlikely Hawfinch.
My good friend Keith W, a steel industry professional, responded to my social media post about audio birding. He reminisced about how, as a youngster, he used to set up his Pifco cassette recorder on the garage roof at home and head off to school. He would come home to find that the big cylinder batteries were completely run down in the recorder, but he’d have a tape full of bird calls and birdsong. He would then listen to the tape and compare what he heard with the recording on an LP of birdsong.
Our Dorset 2023 holiday snaps in no particular order. Scroll down for my four new moths from the week’s mothing and for a ChatGPT “writeup”!
Selfie in The Square and Compass Worth Matravers waiting for live musicViewpoint looking out over RSPB Arne and PooleHay bales east of Kimmeridge Bay, Swyre Head – 5-mile clifftop hikeBrownsea Castle, originally known as Branksea CastleOur boat bound for an afternoon on a very wet Brownsea IslandHarbour-front properties, Sandbanks, the prices of some of these are in the millionsRed Squirrel, Brownsea Island. We saw at least half a dozenChain Ferry between Shell Bay and SandbanksChain Ferry heading to SandbanksCorfe Castle from RSPB ArneCorfe Castle phone snap from The Castle pub, Corfe!Corfe Castle station signal box, we didn’t take the train to Swanage on this tripWoodhenge, Worth Matravers, behind the village car park near the pubEdge of Lulworth Cove from cliffs beyond Kimmeridge BayWe saw a couple of Hares on the fields beyond the cliffsClavell Tower, above Kimmeridge BayLooking back at the Cliffs towards Kimmeridge Bay and Lulworth CoveOther cliffs – looking away from Kimmeridge BayAn old London Routemaster bus in the town square Corfe CastleBrownsea Island from the boat, photo by Mrs SciencebaseNo otters, we had hoped for otters on the shore at SandbanksSpoonbill, Brownsea IslandPied Wagtail, Brownsea IslandMartha Spencer and Archer performing at The Square and CompassRed Ensign on our boat to Brownsea Island in Poole HarbourRedshank, Brownsea LagoonOsprey, record shot over RSPB Arne, saw 2-3One of a couple of dozen Sandwich Tern with fish, Shipstal Point, no sign of the US Forster’s TernRinged Plover, Shell BayYet another Spoonbill, one of about 70 on Brownsea Island lagoonSpoonbills took flight from the Brownsea lagoon as the rain startedFemale Stonechat, there were lots along the cliff path east of Kimmeridge BaySunshine SpoonbillIntriguing Tree, Brownsea IslandAnvil Point Lighthouse, we didn’t dare get any closer, there was no safety fence along the clifftop at this point and it was very gusty!The recently cleaned Big Globe at Durlston Country ParkOut holiday cottage (on the left) and the taller neighboursSika Doe, RSPB ArneSmall Copper, RSPB Arne, spotted while we looked for an elusive Dartford WarblerSpeckled Wood, RSPB ArneRed Underwing that had been by the kitchen door after the trap had been on overnightThree very different Lunar UnderwingsHeath Rustic – new to me in the courtyard garden of our holiday cottage in Corfe CastleFeathered Ranunculus – new for meHedge Rustic – seen this species previously in Poulner in the New ForestAutumnal Rustic – new for me in CorfeCommon Marbled Carpet – a very varied species, not seen this form for a whileConvolvulus Hawk-moth spotted by Mrs Sciencebase on a sign on a gate, RSPB ArneEuropean Hornet – mothtrap intruder on a couple of nights during our week in CorfeDurlston Country Park’s Seventhwave café ticklist – part of the moth section
Meanwhile, I prompted ChatGPT with the captions for the above photographs and asked it to write an introductory blog post for my holiday snaps slideshow. This is the hilarious write-up with which it came back, perfect for a cheesy travel brochure or airline magazine, hahah.
Exploring the Natural Wonders of Dorset: A Photographic Journey
Dorset, a land of picturesque landscapes, historic treasures, and abundant wildlife, recently played host to my wife and me. Our adventure took us to the charming village of Corfe Castle, where we found respite in a lovely cottage, and embarked on a thrilling exploration of the region’s natural beauty and cultural heritage.
Our journey began at the heart of Dorset’s community spirit, The Square and Compass pub in Worth Matravers. Here, we revelled in an afternoon of live music and captured a joyful selfie to mark the occasion.
The lush landscapes of RSPB Arne and the sparkling waters of Poole unfolded before us at a breathtaking viewpoint, reminding us of nature’s grandeur. Meanwhile, the quaint charm of Corfe Castle, seen from both RSPB Arne and The Castle pub, left us in awe of the region’s rich history.
As avid birdwatchers and wildlife enthusiasts, we made our way to Brownsea Island, a sanctuary for red squirrels, ospreys [over RSPB Arne], spoonbills, and more. The sight of these remarkable creatures in their natural habitat was a true delight, and we even spotted an osprey in flight, capturing a record shot.
Kimmeridge Bay’s dramatic cliffs, Lulworth Cove’s edge, and the tranquil beauty of Sandbanks added to the visual splendor of our journey. We marvelled at the historic treasures like Brownsea Castle and Woodhenge, offering a glimpse into Dorset’s fascinating past.
Our days were filled with the beauty of nature, from the intricate patterns of butterflies to the enchanting flight of spoonbills. Each moment was a testament to Dorset’s natural wonders.
Join us on this visual journey through Dorset’s landscapes and wildlife, as we share the stories behind each photograph. From quaint villages to pristine nature reserves, Dorset is a treasure trove waiting to be explored, and we hope our photos inspire you to embark on your own adventure in this remarkable corner of England.
We took a quick and easy flight to Menorca with an offsetting airline, first visit there since 2000 and first flight since our trip to Greece in the autumn before COVID…
Anyway, we half-planned a lazy week of traditional sun, sea, and sand, and maybe some sangria. Temperatures were high – well into the 30s – the sky was blue and clear every day and at dusk full of Common Swifts, and at least one or two Alpine Swifts as well as quartering Booted Eagles.
Swallowtail nectaring on Lantana camara
We spent some time by the pool, but the town of Cala’n Porter which overlooks a beautiful bay and is backed by a marshy gorge was irresistible in terms of hiking. Our first trek was pre-breakfast on the first morning after we arrived.
Looking back on Cala’n Porter
It was already almost 30 degrees before we’d reached the turning point to head back in time for breakfast. There were numerous Pied Flycatchers catching…flies…endless Cetti’s Warbler calling from the reeds, a Red-backed Shrike or two, and possibly a Black Redstart.
Cala Llucalari
Post-breakfast, I took a closer look at the large patch of bougainvillea opposite our hotel and spotted numerous insects nectaring, various wasps and flies, several Hummingbird Hawk-moth, two or three Swallowtail butterflies, a couple of Cleopatra, a Clouded Yellow, and a possible, but unlikely, Two-tail Pasha, Southern Blue(?). I managed to grab photos and video snippets of one or two of those with an old Lumix bridge camera.
Cleopatra butterfly nectaring on BougainvilleaCleopatra in flight
Second morning was a repeat trek, but the following day we headed further East and up into the clifftop garrigue (bushy scrub) in the hope of seeing, or at least hearing, a Hoopoe, Upupa epops. We were out of luck on that sighting for the whole week. Any boop-boop-boop call would’ve been drowned out by the cicadas in the pines, anyway. We were loaded up on water and got as far as we could go on this walk, the clifftop overlooking Playa de Cales Coves (8km round trip). The rocky cove is, we would learn later, more readily accessible, and ultimately swimmable, if you hike in along the Cami de Cavalls bridleway from our base in Cala’n Porter.
Balcony, Playa AzulLoungers
We turned back after watching and listening to several Booted Eagles over the cliffs and saw skittering lizards and hopping grasshoppers and crickets, some looking ruby red in flight (I’m assuming it’s the Red-winged Grasshopper Oedipoda germanica), another insect almost the size of a small bird (Egyptian Grasshopper, I think) but largely brown dashed about while we rehydrated along the clifftop. We inadvertently detoured a little too much heading back but eventually found our way back to the edge of Cala’n Porter and an astroturf sportsfield overlooked by a telecommunications tower. It was only another 20 minutes back to the hotel pool and we had the dregs of the water to just make it.
Swallowtail butterfly
The next expedition was westward. We started along the edge of the Cala’n Porter marsh heading in the direction of Cala Llucalari and Son Bou beyond that. We didn’t expect to get as far as Llucalari, it would seem like a long (18.6km there and back), trek in the heat more suited to undertaking on horseback given the rocky terrain and the ups and downs. On the way, we spotted Large Copper and the southern races of Meadow Brown and Speckled Wood butterflies as well as a species that has been ubiquitous in England during the summer of 2023, Red Admiral.
Mediterranean Speckled WoodLooking back while heading for Llucalari
Regardless of the terrain, we kept going and we espied the Mediterranean as we crowned a patch of “farmland” beyond some new olive groves being tended in the height of the heat. It was then downward to the rocky beach of Cala Llucalari.
Mrs Sciencebase admiring the “Respectar la Natura” graffiti
The beach was a sight for sore eyes but without beach shoes getting into the water was a little tough on bare feet but truly worth it once we were submerged. There were lots of Blue Rock Thrush darting about, Cleopatra butterflies, Small Copper, Large Copper, several of the aforementioned “blues”, as well as Scarce Bordered Straw, Silver Y, and Palpita Vitrealis moths. Highlight has to have been sighting of a pair of Egyptian Vultures, which circled overhead while we were swimming. I managed to get back to the shore and grab my camera for a snapshot just as they disappeared over the cliffs. A Lesser Kestrel came over minutes later.
Looking over the cliffs at a school of kayaks
The hike back from Llucalari back to Cala’n Porter was hard work, hot and tough on the back and ankles, but we made it in reasonable time to grab our evening meal. We decided to have the next day off from walking and the risk heatstroke.
Almost at Llucalari
Our next adventure/expedition was to take the “correct” footpath to Caya de Cales Coves, the Cami de Cavalls. We headed up and out of Cala’n Porter to the aforementioned sportsfield where we discovered that post number 1 on Stage 17 of the Cami is right there. It was a mere fifty-minute hike (6km there and back) to the beach via several lizards and a tortoise, The cove is flanked by natural and manmade caves that were used as a necropolis at least as long ago as 1500 BCE. It’s a beautiful beach, a kayak and yachting target, so a little bit busier than Llucalari, but we found a spot to swim from and to watch the Booted Eagles once again soaring above the clifftops. There was a flash of Kingfisher blue that darted through a rocky arch on the shoreline and almost collided with me before veering off across the water. We headed back after that for more…you guessed it…more pool time.
Yachts at Cales Coves
I should, at this stage, point out that afternoon pooltime usually involved a bit of swimming, at least a couple of cervezas as well as an occasional survey of that bougainvillea opposite the hotel. The cervezas and the hummers kept coming, but there was no second sighting of Swallowtails sadly.
Playa Azul hotel sunset
Evening entertainment was provided by the setting sun over the clifftop opposite our hotel balcony, the waxing moon, an evening meal at the hotel and an occasional foray into the relatively quiet bar and restaurant area of Cala’n Porter to take in some of the “interesting” musical artists. These included a “singer” called Niko (Megastars), who was by turns Elvis, Tina, and Freddie and on our last night ABBA Seagull who definitely did that band’s repertoire justice with just enough finesse and plenty of tongue-in-cheek. Acts back at the hotel included a solo singer with a stetson who strangled The Eagles and murdered Merle Haggard and Afrodiviac who enraptured at least one youngster staying at the hotel with her Gloria Gaynor.
ABBA Seagull
It spat with rain towards the end of ABBA’s performance and the forecast for Sunday was looking cloudy, potentially very wet, and with a serious risk of flight-delaying lightning. We packed up and headed for our last breakfast in the hotel, no more Spanish omelette, but plenty of fuet sausage to send us on our way.
Lots of Pine Processionary Moth came into the hotel when the weather changed on Saturday night
There seemed to have been something of an irruption of Pine Processionary moth in the hotel corridors, perhaps driven in by the change in the weather. There were various others hanging around too (Rush Veneer, Light Brown Apple Moth, Small Dusty Wave, Rusty Oak/Birch Button), and a roosting Hummingbird Hawk-moth. Our final morning awaiting transport was thus a bit of an ad hoc mothing expedition around the hotel lobby. There was always the tiniest of chances of spotting something big and squeaky, but no such luck.
Hotel Playa Azul by night
The weather seriously broke as we sat at the airport, not sure we’ve ever experienced such bad turbulence before take-off. Thankfully, our departure was only delayed by a couple of hours. There was genuine turbulence at 36000 feet, but nothing too exotic. Landing, security, baggage reclaim, customs, and back to the car park were smooth. We were home not seven hours after the morning’s nothing. As the sun went down Mrs Sciencebase and myself were musing on whether to start packing for our next trip…
Poolside by moonlightSuperzoom view of Cala’n Porter cliff bar – Club MenorcaPoolside Playa AzulHummingbird Hawk-moth on BougainvilleaCales CovesCales Coves from the clifftop…no way downSkyfall VillaYucca
Superzoom view of hilltop villas, Cala’n Porter
BougainvilleaCala LlucalariOur balcony view of Playa de Cala’n PorterView of the hotel from the beachClouds!What’s the story, Morning Glory?Shoal of anchored boats by night
Mastic bushPassion flowerSmall CopperThe Cala’n Porter Gorge – apple and pear orchardsRustic fence shadowsSunset coloursPlumbago auriculataSouthern Common Blue, Polyommatus celina
Egyptian Grasshopper/Locust, Anacridium aegyptiumVilla WallBooted EagleBiker BlindsEgyptian Vulture (One of two over Llucalari)Cotton Bollworm moth, known as Scarce Bordered Straw in the UK where it is a rare migrantQuarter MoonMenorca Aeroport
Menorcan Sunset
Photos with the white, skew dB/ logo were taken on my phone. The ones with my “proper” dB/ logo were taken on a Lumix DC-FZ82, which I originally bought for that Greek trip but never used. Those with the tricia logo were taken by Mrs Sciencebase on her phone.
