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...