Sights, Sounds, and Surprises

It’s never the same there twice at the wetlands. The seasons change, the scenery changes, the birds change, and you often see something totally unexpected. These days it is full of bird song. The path I take to get to the stork nests is wooded on both sides. There are dozens of birds up in the trees, birds I can’t see, have no idea who they are, but it’s a pleasure to hear them sing.

The storks don’t sing. They tilt their head back and make a racket clattering with their beaks when one or the other returns to the nest. The sound travels and you can hear them from far off.

The only thing to spoil this chorus of bird sounds is the shouting of children large and small as they come through in school groups with adults who seem to have no idea of how to impose some discipline. The noise is unpleasant for the other visitors – at least it is for me -- and must be a bit unnerving for the birds and other wildlife.

The other day, one of those annoying school groups was being instructed by a park ranger. We were in a hide and he was explaining about the two swans that we had before us. I had never seen swans here before, but apparently they are resident. They are the most aggressive birds in the park, he said. They will chase away any other bird that comes near. I was thinking that he should explain that to the mallard that was parked a few feet away on their little island, and the coot that was feeding right in front of them. But who knows, maybe just a few inches closer and those two would become swan feed. At the moment, the swans were probably intent on trying to ignore the screaming coming from the hide.

At another hide (neither sight nor sound of children) there was another surprise. Most birds within view were far off, but I noticed a brown smudge in the grass. When it finally moved it turned out to be a deer. He was fixated on one spot that must have been especially tasty and would hardly lift his head. Then I noticed another brown smudge – this one was more lively. There were two of them, quiet as can be and just waiting for me to take their picture.

The horses were back, grazing under the stork nests. And this time there was a colt.

And then there was this. When I asked at the information center on the way out, I was told it was an invader – an American mink. That was a long swim. But no, they entered Catalonia from mink farms in France. Invaders always disturb the local natural ecosystems. Poor thing is an undesirable; he may be deported.... or worse...

A Good Friday

It was another good Friday, this one with a capital G.  But this wasn’t an adventure; it was an outing.  No winding roads.  Setmana Santa was almost over and I was headed out to the wetlands. Because of the week-long holiday, I figured there would be more people than usual, but the storks have been nesting and I thought maybe there were babies to see. Babies don’t stay babies for long, and I didn’t want to miss anything.

I had underestimated the multitudes. The wetlands had turned into a theme park. There was one of those tourist mini-trains, and the parking lot was full. There were two men directing us to an adjacent field where we could park on the grass. I decided to ignore, as best I could, the legions (who had as much right to be there as I had) and enjoy the birds.

I found the storks and the same toing and froing as the last time. I do enjoy trying to catch them in flight. What I don’t think I found were babies. I saw storks coming back to a nest with someone in it, but those seemed to be adult birds. Storks share the nesting responsibilities, so I suppose one would always stay to sit on the eggs. Or maybe the babies had already grown kind of big ...

Baby stork or adult?

But wait.  There was something strange going on in one of the nests.  A threesome? 

A threesome?

   

Four?

Enough.  I headed over to the pond that had so many ducks the last time. This time the ducks had been joined by a group of flamingos. Maybe you already know this, but I didn’t until just now when I looked it up. There are three common terms for a group of flamingos: flamboyance, colony, and stand. Flamboyance is the most popular (and probably the most fitting), but there is no rule for using one or another, that is to say, the term you use doesn’t depend on the number of birds or their location. But for me, I would prefer to use the term flamboyance for a larger group. The pond had about two dozen and they were strewn around. That wasn’t flamboyant enough for me. So I would say that the ducks had been joined by a stand of flamingos (mostly standing on one leg, as they do).

Husband and wife duck with turtle

A stand of flamingos

On the drive back

Storks and Co.

As I was saying. You go out and look for one thing and find another. If you’re lucky you might find what you are looking for and then something extra. That’s what happens when I go out to the wetlands (or anywhere, for that matter). I may have expectations, but they are not carved in stone. Mainly I want to be out in nature, in a beautiful enviornment, breathing freely, facemask tucked away in my pocket, and hoping to find something to photograph. In that regard, I am rarely disappointed.

So, a week or so ago I was out there in the wetlands looking for the storks. And I found them, of course, since it is nesting season and they are mostly at home in those big nests of theirs. 

But the storks weren’t alone.

These horses -- a special breed that thrives in wetlands, imported some years ago from the Camargue -- often graze in the field adjoining the stork village.

And then again, in a nearby pond, there were the ducks.  

But the ducks weren't alone.

And neither was that flamingo.

Anyone Home?

I stopped going to the aiguamolls (wetlands) late last year because there wasn’t any water and hardly any birds. But I missed the landscape and the birds so in January, after a rain, I headed back to see if anyone was home.

I found the pond had some water and there were a few birds, mostly ducks and a few coots and seagulls. But to my surprise, look what popped out of the forest! That’s life. You look for one thing and find another.

They wasted little time being out in the open. 
In a minute they had disappeared.

Coots