Long-tailed Macaques

Long-tailed Macaques
Long-tailed Macaque (Macaca fascicularis)

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The Desert Sparrow Project


The Desert Sparrow (Passer simplex) is a small passerine found in North Africa and Central Asia. So far two subspecies have been described for the Sahara desert (P.s. simplex and P. s. saharae); the third subspecies, localized in areas of Irán, Turkmenistán and Uzbekistán, also known as Zarduny’s Sparrow (P. S. Zarudnyi), may be split into full species status in the near future, on the grounds that it shows no sexual dimorphism between male and female.

Desert Sparrow breeding pair

Desert sparrows are one of the most characteristic birds of the Sahara desert. Superbly adapted to arid conditions, they prefer to breed in oases and wadis (dry river beds) with some vegetation, and often live close to humans. Berber builders intentionally leave nesting holes in their adobe houses and barns to for the birds, which they call “bar-rode”; in their traditions, the song of a Desert Sparrow in their home is a sign of good news. Tuareg people call the birds “Moula-moula” and are also quite fond of them. In very remote areas they are the only birds found in or around villages or nomadic camps, but as more settlements are built for tourism, and distances between them are reduced, a host of new species soon follow: Domestic doves (Columba livia), Collared doves (Streotopelia decaocto) and especially House sparrows (Passer domesticus). All these species compete directly with the Desert Sparrow for food; House sparrows are bigger and more prolific, and eventually occupy most of the available nesting space.

Passer simplex in Merzouga.
The area between Merzouga and Tafilalt in Morocco is the northernmost point in the Desert Sparrow’s African distribution. It is also one of the few sites where this bird can be seen in the Western Palearctic, which makes it especially attractive for international birders. Desert Sparrow populations in this area have suffered a marked decline in recent years, due to increasing human activity around the tourism industry in Erg Chebbi, the most important sand dune habitat in Morocco. The current Desert Sparrow population in this area is no more than 100 individuals, according to a census made in 2010 by ICO (Catalan Institute of Ornithology). 25 pairs nest in an oasis in the middle of the dunes (accessible by camel only). They seem to be relatively safe, but saturated; there is no room for more. Birding tour companies have located four more breeding pairs outside the area occupied by the hotels around the dunes; they nest in palm trees, holes in acacia or tamarisk trees, and one inside an active Brown-necked Raven (Corvus ruficollis) nest.

House Sparrow (left) with Desert sparrows perched on a camel saddle

In view of the declining numbers of the species, the Emberiza Fund has designed a project with the objective of helping Desert sparrows keep and possibly increase their numbers in the Merzouga area, by providing them with especially designed nest boxes.

Nest boxes.
The nest boxes have been custom-built drawing from the experience gathered by ICO researchers in previous years, adding details extracted from designs used successfully with North American House Finch and House Sparrow. Desert Sparrow is slightly smaller than its domestic invasive cousin, so the entrance hole has been narrowed by 2 mm, in an attempt to prevent house sparrows from using it; experience will tell if this works. The boxes have been built by a local carpenter, following Emberiza’s blueprint. This eliminates transportation and import costs, and also makes a modest contribution to the local economy.

 Male Desert Sparrow on a jaima (Berber tent).

Desert sparrows usually breed between March and August, but this can vary greatly from year to year, depending on climatology. This means that the nest boxes must be installed all year, and their location is determined by several factors:

-       Availability of acacia, tamarisk, or palm trees, tall enough to provide safety from predators (3-6 meters).
-       Closeness to fine sand areas with abundant growth of Alfa grass, an important natural food for the birds.
-       Distance from human habitation as villages, lodges, irrigated cultivation.
-       Nest boxes must be installed on the side of the tree that receives the most shade during the day.

After several scouting trips by members of Emberiza to find the best locations, in December 2012 fifteen nest boxes have been installed in the Merzouga area. A local agent has been hired to monitor and care for the boxes; further assessment of nesting success and will be done by birding tours to the area, organized by Boletas (www.boletas.org) and Audouin Birding Tours (www.audouinbirding.net).

Female Desert Sparrow

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A feisty skunk

In November 2012 I traveled to Torres del Paine National Park in South Chile, with the main goal of seeing and photographing pumas. I organized the trip through Trogon Tours, a company specialized in South American birding and wildlife trips, owned and managed by my friend Luis Segura, who was my guide throughout the trip. Luis secured the services of José Vargas, a local tracker who has lived and worked in the park all his life, and who probably knows more about Patagonian pumas than anyone alive. 

Patagonian Hog-nosed Skunk (Conepatus humboldtii)

We spent every early morning and late afternoon searching for pumas. One morning, just before sunrise, we were driving the one dirt road that traverses the park when some 100 meters in front of us we saw a puma running along the road, and there seemed to be something running after it. For a moment, it looked as if the dim pre-dawn light was playing tricks on us, but as we drove closer there was no mistake: a Patagonian Hog-nosed skunk was chasing our puma. As we got closer, the puma sprinted across the road and disappeared behind a ridge. He looked like a young male, an almost fully-grown cub really, probably belonging to a family we had been watching for a couple of days in the area. The skunk stayed by the road. We left the car and started walking after the puma, hoping to get close enough for some photos, with no success; after a long hike we lost it and returned to the car. By then it was mid-morning, and to my surprise the skunk was still there, minding its own business, digging for worms and grubs among the wet green grass. 

 The skunk crossing the dirt road, the one chance I had of a clean, full-body shot.

A few days earlier I had seen a skunk in the park, a shy young animal that ran away as soon as I tried to approach it. Judging from the rusty color of his coat, this one was an older guy, more experienced and confident in his chemical dissuading abilities, and didn’t seem to mind our presence at all. I asked José if he could try and make it move towards me, so I’d have him under better light. As soon as he noticed José getting closer, the skunk raised his head and confronted us, grunting and huffing his annoyance. It was hard not to laugh: the guy was the size of a small cat, and was confidently confronting three grown men, totally unafraid.

We kept a respectful distance and gave him his space, and he continued foraging in a nearby meadow. He kept his head low to the ground, so it was difficult to get a good shot of his head and his unique snout. At one point I sat on the ground, waiting for him to appear from behind a bush for a low shot, and to my surprise he walked briskly towards me until he was less than a meter away, at one point almost touching my feet with his nose.  José was concerned, to say the least: “Por favor, Ignacio, ¡no te muevas! ¡Que no se asuste!”, even though the chances of the little fellow being afraid of anything seemed quite remote. The prospect of having to drive me in his car after being skunk-sprayed must have been horrifying, and rightly so. Luckily, the skunk chose not to use his weapon of mass destruction on me, and just continued his mid-morning stroll; after chasing a puma away, he clearly wasn’t going to be bothered by some annoying photographer. You could almost hear him humming “La Cucaracha”. And he did give me some close-up shots of his nose that almost made up for losing the runaway puma…


 A bit too close for comfort...

Patagonian (or Humboldt’s) hog-nosed skunks (Conepatus humboldtii) are rather common in Torres del Paine. Tough and adaptable, they eat almost anything they can find or catch, and prefer open grassland with small woodland patches, pretty much the kind of habitat favored by the puma. Both species must cross their paths relatively often, and if the puma is a fully grown, experienced and hungry adult, one can imagine that the outcome can be quite different; however, so far this old character had proved quite capable of holding his ground.

You can see more images from the trip at my website: www.iyufera.com

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Searching for leopards

The Leopard (Panthera pardus) is considered by many the perfect feline, the quintessential cat, and with good reason; leopards combine the power and strength of the greater cats with the grace and agility of the smaller members of their family.  They are the most widespread wild feline in the world, and although their range has been severely reduced in the last century, they still live throughout Africa, Asia and the Middle East in a wide variety of habitats, outnumbering all other large cats.

Their versatility is legendary. They can survive on surprisingly small prey in areas where large game has been eliminated, and are so adept at taking advantage of even the slightest cover that they can be found deep within urban areas, often specializing in hunting livestock and domestic dogs and cats. Unfortunately, in these situations attacks on people may also occur. In fact, some of the most notorious man-eaters in recorded history have been leopards.

Female leopard with grown cub, Timbavati Reserve, South Africa.

Although leopards are generally secretive and very difficult to see, in a few areas they have become relatively tolerant of humans and vehicles. The two most reliable places in the World to see and photograph leopards today seem to be Sri Lanka and South Africa. Large game reserves in Kenya, Tanzania and Botswana also offer good chances, although, as I can attest, it is perfectly possible to do a safari in Kenya and see no leopards at all; I didn't see my first, a female resting on a tree, until my second visit to Kenya, in 2002 (you can read a brief trip report here).

The island country of Sri Lanka has the advantage of leopards being the top predator there, so they are less cautious and elusive than in other areas, where they have to be constantly alert for lions, tigers, or hyenas; Sri Lanka's Yala National Park is said to offer almost guaranteed sightings of Leopard, so much so that most visitors hoping to see it book two nights there at most. However, I was led by an expert guide, and it took me four days to find one. As with anything related to wild animal sightings luck plays a major part, but this seems to be especially true with leopards.

 Young male leopard on a tree, Timbavati Reserve, South Africa.

As it is often the case with wildlife, no matter how many photos or documentary footage you may have previously watched; nothing really prepares you for the first close encounter with a large predator, especially from an open-top vehicle with no real physical barrier between you and the animal. Here's an excerpt from my wife's diary on our trip to Sri Lanka, where she saw her first wild leopard in Yala National Park:

'I guess the most important part about Yala is the anticipation, yet smug sense of entitlement we all felt before leaving. Seeing a Leopard was likely the raison d'etre for the trip, apart of course from finishing my thesis (she had just finished working on her PhD at the time). So, it was with wide eyes and a sense of adventure that we left the hotel that morning for our nine hour journey to Yala National Park. Yala was full of leopards, and we were about to get some car-skimming cat shots.

…If not by the first morning, it would happen by the second afternoon. Obviously.

(...) Before starting the trip, Ignacio had asked me countless times how excited I was to see The Leopard. I was excited, but I was also delighted with the prospects of beaches, suntans, no thesis, more beaches, less thesis and did I mention… more suntans? Perhaps my priorities were a little out of whack with regard to the Wildlife component of the trip.  Beaches came at the end of the trip, but so convinved was I that we would find a leopard on the first day, that I thought we might be able to do a quick side trip to do some surfing or snorkeling before long. Let me repeat: assured by smug sense of entitlement I really had not a care in the world. Leopards. Click. Beach. Hooray!


 A glimpse through the bushes, Yala National Park, Sri Lanka.


I was curious about leopards, about predators in general, and after our experiences in Africa I was expecting (at the very least) a full behavioral display. Without exaggeration, I truly thought we would stumble upon leopards mating, playing, and- of course, of course- hunting. After all Yala was promised to be even more saturated with leopards than Etosha with lions, so it was a quick journey, no?

So. Let me interject at this point. Animals do not respond to your beach schedule. Even less so, when there is a pre emptive conclusion that they will pose in behavior shots for you. And the trip was starting to feel less Hawaii 5-0 and a lot more David Attenborough, minus the soothing voice. To begin, our transportation within Yala was distinctly different than any safari I had previously experienced. We were in vintage land rovers, and the roads were horrendous. The potholes made for a very nice introduction between my kidneys and my ribs and after the novelty wore off, the discomfort was just kind of…dusty. Dust, bumps, silenced eye-peeling. We were going to find that animal.

After four days of this routine, it was starting to feel eerily planned that we were not seeing any leopards. We started to eat meals in silence, the elephant in the room (a terrible pun, since indeed there were quite a few Asian Elephants) being the utter lack of leopard. Not a tail, not a toe. Foot prints don’t count.

We loaded all of the camera equipment back into the land rover and headed out on Drive Number 4 in search of the elusive leopard. Of course we were going to find it.


  Young female, Yala National Park, Sri Lanka.

Statistically, and I would write that, I’m not sure if it’s possible to be in Yala for four full game drives and not even see a leopard- not even with binoculars (!), but that was our reality. We came back, again, with nothing. That night we started to panic. As nice as the peacock display shots were, and as exotic as the hornbills were, they were not leopards. They were not predators. They didn’t even have fur—let alone the stuff with spots on it!  Ignacio and I heaved the camera equipment back into the room. That 800 mm lens was making itself a real nuisance at this point- it all felt like a silly costume. The beige clothing. The camera that sat unused. What was it all for? Not to mention the 300 and 24-105, the laptops, and all the other gear that is a part of this incredible hobby.

´This is incredible. Four full game rides at Yala, and not a single leopard.´

So. We ate in virtual silence, until it was broken:

‘We are going to be the poor bastards that come to this Park, and don´t even see a single leopard.’ I gave my fiancé a look of empathy and a kind of mini apology for dragging him so far, only to see so little.

The next morning was our last game drive. Oh, the horrible frustration. Or maybe even humiliation, that we had come all the way to Sri Lanka, and not even glimpsed at this stupid cat.

… 8.30 am, and nothing. We ate breakfast in silence.

It was now 9.30, and still nothing.

Part of the problem was the concentration of jeeps. Yala was absolutely heaving with cars—they were everywhere. Leopards are decidedly un-lion like. They are not social, they do not hunt in prides, and they certainly do not like attention. I think the word is ´secretive´, or ´shy´. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘incredibly selfish and spiteful’ at this point, but no matter. It was almost time to turn around and go back home, after all, we had been at it since 5.30, and it was now 9.45…


 Young female, Yala National Park, Sri Lanka.

 And then, THERE IT WAS. ON A ROCK.
‘Leopard!! Leopard!!!¨ I hissed at the driver. I had seen the first leopard, and it was just laying there, in the middle of the sun, on a rock. Laying!!! Posing!!! Not a care in the world.

We inched the Land Rover back, careful not to disturb the animal, and Ignacio grabbed the 300mm lens.

It was there. Less than 10 meters away! It was close enough for snapshots, and we were the ONLY people who had found it. We were alone. I could see the soft black spots that marked her face, and most critically, the black eyeliner that decorated the greenish eyes.
Finding her was a defining moment for the trip– all the hours of waiting, the weeks in preparation, and now here she was. Wildlife photography in many ways is like gambling– you have no idea of the outcome, just that it feels great when you win. It really hardly ever works out that you get the Big Pay Out as you might like it to happen. We came home with reels of leopard photos.

 Young female, Yala National Park, Sri Lanka.

Seeing the leopard totally changed my perspective on wildlife photography. Instead of a gambling game with badly staked odds, it became an infinitely rewarding pursuit, marked by slightly unknown temporal constraints. Hopefully, the temporal constraints won’t grow to be longer. Everyone should have an encounter with animals like this, should the opportunity arise. The big question, of course, is for how long even four day waits will be available. It’s clear that animals, like everything else, are disappearing faster than we’d like.'

That afternoon we saw a big male, a one-eyed veteran of many battles, resting on a tree. It was a superb animal, that soon attracted what seemed like a hundred cars, creating a "game jam" so typical of large national parks, and making our morning experience feel even more special.

The big one-eyed male at Yala National Park, Sri Lanka.


In May 2012 Margi and I were invited to our friend Adam Riley's wedding in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa. Adam and I have been friends since we met in Uganda, in 2005, and I have made several birding and photographic trips organized by his company (Sri Lanka among them); he is the owner and managing director of Rockjumper Birding Tours, and has also co-founded its sister companies Indri and Oryx Photographic Expeditions. After the wedding, we took the opportunity to organize a photographic trip to two of the most famed and reliable reserves in South Africa for leopard: Sabi Sand and Timbavati. Sabi Sand is the oldest private game reserve in South Africa, and a pioneering model for wildlife tourism. It is a 65,000 ha association of landowners, with no fences and an open 50-km border with Kruger National Park. The landscape in both areas is mostly comprised of different types of woodland, and apart from being famous for their leopards, offer great viewing opportunities of Lion, Buffalo, Elephant, White Rhino, and a wide variety of ungulates, of which Impala is the most common. Timbavati has the bonus of a chance for Wild Dog and the famous white lions, both of which we missed; dogs are nomadic and move constantly except when breeding, and the white lions are just a few, over a very large area.

 Margi with one of the open-top vehicles used in Sabi Sand and Timbavati.

There are several privately run lodges and safari operators in both reserves; their drivers and guides seem to know each other well, and the atmosphere is one of cooperation, with constant sharing of information through radio. It is possible to drive off-road within certain limits, and no more than two vehicles are allowed at a sighting, avoiding the "game-jams" so often experienced at Kruger and the East African national parks. Our guide, Marius Coetzee, is co-owner of Oryx and started his career as a guide at Leopard Hills, the lodge where we stayed in Sabi Sands. He is an award-winning South African photographer with a great knowledge of African wildlife in general and this area in particular. You can check his work at www.mariuscoetzee.com .

 Adult male next to the airstrip at Sabi Sand Reserve, South Africa.

May is probably not the best time of the year for visiting the South African bush; there had been heavy rains right before our arrival, and the grass was very long everywhere, making sightings difficult and photography often frustrating. However, it is a testament to the quality of these reserves and their guides that in just 8 days we saw ten individual leopards, and enjoyed some excellent photo opportunities. We followed the usual safari routine: game drives early in the morning and again in the afternoon until sunset, with long resting periods in the middle of the day. At Sabi Sand, Marius did a great job of driving the vehicle himself, expertly aided by a local tracker. The territories of individual leopards are usually well known by local rangers, and radio communication between vehicles is really effective. Leopards have been closely studied at Sabi Sand for years, and many have become habituated to being followed by vehicles, to the point of completely ignoring a big Land Rover noisily revving a few meters away. They seem totally oblivious of the people in the cars, even the trackers who sit rather precariously on a little seat on the vehicle's hood. The one warning visitors are given: don't stand up inside the open-top car. Wild animals seem to consider the vehicle and its occupants as a whole, and standing up might alter that perception.

 Drinking leopard with a puncture wound in the shoulder, Sabi Sand Reserve, South Africa.

Like most wild predators, leopards lead difficult, brutal and often short lives. Almost every one we saw bore scars or even open wounds. Rangers and guides get to know many individual leopards within their reserves, and more often than not their life stories end in violent death. Lions kill many cubs and even adults; adult males fight for territories and mating rights, and even a minor injury can mean a disability to hunt and lead to starvation. Females have to not only fend for themselves, but keep their cubs fed and safe from predators and also adult male leopards. At Leopard Hills Lodge, I was surprised to realize that many photos covering a whole wall were of the same specimen: a very well-known female who for several years chose the lodge's rocky grounds to raise her cubs. She was finally pushed out of the reserve by an aggressive male, and ended up being shot at a bordering village.

Female leopard with grown cub, Timbavati Reserve, South Africa.

The fact that females raising cubs have to spend so much time out hunting may explain in part why most leopard sightings and photographs are of females; out of the ten leopards we saw, seven were female, one with a male grown cub. Hunting for wild prey is hard work; even in dense bushy terrain like Sabi Sand and Timbavati, which favors the leopard's ambush style of hunting, success rates are about 40%, dropping to 20% when they hunt during daylight hours. Impala, leopard's most frequent prey in the area, are so numerous for a reason: they are very hard to catch. 

Female leopard with Impala kill, Timbavati Reserve, South Africa.


We were very lucky to enjoy  great views of a female and her grown and rather shy cub for a few minutes, but my personal favorite was a full-grown male that showed up just before sunrise by the airstrip near Leopard Hills Lodge at Sabi Sand. Big males are always a bonus, but this one was just spectacular, a superb mix of power and elegance, definitely one of the most impressive wild animals I've seen. We followed him for almost an hour, with the early morning sun providing some stunning light, until he disappeared in the long grass.


 The big male at Sabi Sand.


Oryx asked us for some feedback on the trip so they can use it as reference; here's what I wrote:


As for the photographic side: Leopard Hills (Sabi Sands) and King's Camp (Timbavati) rank among the best wildlife watching and photography places have experienced, not only in Africa but in the World. The abundance of Leopard and the quality of the sightings is just amazing, even though we were in the "long grass" season. Drivers and trackers do a fantastic job, and the avoidance of "game jams" thanks to the policy of only two vehicles allowed at a sighting is a great advantage. Leopard is clearly the main attraction at Timbavati, but there were great sightings of Buffalo, Elephant and White Rhino. We didn't do so great with Lion, but did get a few decent shots nonetheless.  In eight full days between the two reserves, we didn't have a single dull drive.

Accommodation and all the infrastructure around King's Camp is just wonderful. The rooms are a delight, food excellent, very nice birds around the gardens, great bar and library, and some of the very best service I've experienced anywhere. We were pampered in every way imaginable.

Organization by Oryx was faultless. It really felt like we were getting the best of everything, even when compared to other visitors, and Marius' excellent relationship with apparently every ranger and tracker in the reserves was a big bonus, making communication with other vehicles especially productive. His extensive bush experience and photographic sense added a lot of value to the trip.

As a wildlife enthusiast and photographer who has been around, I certainly recommend King's Camp and Timbavati as a superb, rewarding and very productive destination. I hope I find the time to go back some time soon.



 This beautiful female had a flap of loose skin in her jaw, likely the result of a fight. Sabi Sand Reserve, South Africa.


And here's Margi's contribution, in case mine didn't include enough superlatives::


I'm not sure if I can adequately express my enthusiasm for our South African trip. Sharing time with some of the most exotic animals on the planet will continue to be one of my most treasured memories. What I loved most, was the proximity and intensity of the experience with leopards. Although I am not a wildlife photographer, I am an adrenaline junkie, and hearing the hiss or purr of an adult leopard (or in your case, cub!!) is one of the most exciting times I can remember.

The excitement of stalking leopards with walkie-talkies and the incredible open top Land Rovers is something that I won't soon forget.

In my most spectacular day dreams, I could not have thought up lodges like King's Camp or Leopard Hills. The food is absolutely exceptional- so much so that I made a point of going to the gym every day on holiday. I continue to give rave reviews of the massage I had at Leopard Hills, which remains the best back rub I've had in my life. Brr. I am still thinking about it! The interior of each room is so unique and luxurious it would feel like a pity to leave for the game drives, had they not been so mind- bendingly exciting. Even as a non photographer, I was up fifteen minutes early before each drive, and thinking about the drive on each evening after. The feeling is pure Hemingway, minus the kind of creepy undertones. Really, I have never had such an awesome adventure, and I am still looking back with the fondest of memories.

Oryx put together a trip that was virtually bespoken to both my husband's and my tastes. We were able to share an adventure together, and this was possibly the best trip we have taken together. This was achieved by a seamless set of logistical operations, not a hint of a problem with travel, accommodation, food, or even photography opportunities. Mother Nature may be unpredictable, but Oryx seems to have managed a way to make her a little happier.

Gah. That line is SO MUCH FROMAGE, however...



 Female leopard, Timbavati Reserve, South Africa.

We want to thank Adam and Felicity Riley, and their families, for inviting us to their wedding and for their hospitality during our stay; we had a really great time. 

And to Marius and Kirsty at Oryx for a faultless organization.


To see more images from this trip, visit my photography website at www.iyufera.com








































Monday, April 9, 2012

Bluethroats in Spain

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 All photos ©Ignacio Yúfera taken in the Gredos Mountains, Avila, Spain, between April and June.

The Bluethroat (Luscinia svecica) is a small migratory passerine with a mostly Eurasian distribution, although a small breeding population exists in Western Alaska, making it a treat for American birders. Depending on the author, there are ten or eleven subspecies recognized, based on the colour and size of the spot found in their bright blue breast ("bib").
  
 Bluethroat male displaying on broom.


Bluethroats that breed in Spain have been traditionally included within the Central European cyanecula subspecies. However, a number of recent studies suggest that they form a distinct subspecies, L.s. azuricollis, due to its geographical isolation and the fact that a large percentage of males show very little or no white spot at all in the blue bib (the ornithologist Corley Smith, in 1959, claimed that 80% of the breeding bluethroats he observed in Central Spain had no white spot). The reddish breast bar is often wider, and the white line separating it from the black-bordered bib tends to be very faint, or even absent in many cases. Some males also show significant amounts of blue in the lore. Spanish birds are also larger, which would be consistent with their high mountain habitat, and have longer wings than their Central European counterparts.

 Male Bluethroat I digiscoped in 2005, showing blue in the lores and no white in the bib.

 A different male with faint white spotting in the bib.

By mid April, bluethroats start arriving to their Spanish breeding grounds. These comprise two main areas: the Galician-Cantabrian Mountains in SW Spain and the Central Mountain System, 250 km apart. In both areas their populations are fragmented due to the scarcity of their preferred habitat: gentle slopes with dense low vegetation, mostly broom (Cytisus) and heath (Erica), mixed with open meadows, never far from water. Unlike Central European birds, in Spain the Bluethroat is almost exclusively a high mountain bird, breeding above 1,700 meters. Population densities are also lower than in Central Europe. Numbers in Spain appear stable, with 9,000 -12,000 pairs.


Depending on the weather, males in the Gredos Mountains start establishing their territories between late April and early May, displaying well into June. Especially active right after sunrise, some of them can be bold and very showy, singing from exposed perches in bushes or rocks, and also in flight. They have a clear and varied song, often starting with imitations of other birds, among them Nightingale and Quail. Females are much more discrete and are seldom seen.


 A Spring visit to the sierras of Guadarrama or Gredos is one of the most rewarding birding experiences one can have in Spain. Bluethroats share their habitat with good numbers of Ortolan Bunting, Rock Bunting, Northern Wheatear, Common Accentor, Skylark, Water Pipit and Yellow Wagtail, and up in the rocks it is possible to see male Rock Thrush performing their display flights. The mountain streams, swelled by the thaw, often have pairs of Dipper. In certain areas of Guadarrama, Spectacled Warbler is also present. The once almost extinct Spanish Ibex (Capra pyrenaica victoriae) has made a spectacular comeback and become remarkably tame in several areas, especially Gredos. 

  Ortolan Bunting (Emberiza hortulana)
 
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All this makes these mountain sites one of the few in Spain where bird and wildlife photography is possible without the aid of a hide. With patience, a long lens, and trying to avoid weekends when the affluence of visitors can be overwhelming, it is possible to get quite close to many of the birds as they display. Most species are at their most active and bold in May, although June offers some beautiful extra colors added by the bright yellow broom flowers.
 

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Desert Sparrow in Morocco


The Desert Sparrow (Passer simplex) is one of the most characteristic birds of the sandy deserts of North Africa. They favour oases and wadis with some vegetation, therefore often nesting in or near human habitation. In very remote areas, desert sparrows are often the only birds found in villages, but as more settlements appear and distances between them are reduced, House sparrows (Passer domesticus) soon start taking over.

 Male Desert Sparrow.

Stronger and more prolific, House sparrows seem to be displacing their desert relatives from many of their traditional breeding areas in Morocco. They compete for the same food and use the same nesting holes in houses and buildings, forcing Desert sparrows to move deep inside the desert where the less specialized House sparrows have a harder time finding food.

The hotels and guesthouses lining the sand dunes at Erg Chebbi used to be a reliable place to find good numbers of these birds in Morocco, but every year there seems to be less of them around. Last February I only saw one pair among the many House Sparrow flocks. However, trends in Desert Sparrow population can be hard to asses given the erratic patterns of their movements; they often stop breeding in an area where they have been present for years and move to a totally new one for no apparent reason, although increasing House Sparrow numbers are almost certainly a factor.

 House Sparrow (left) and Desert sparrows on a camel saddle, Erg Chebbi, Morocco.

Although not the most spectacular of birds (few desert species are), for those of us who love deserts and their fauna they are a real treat. Females look as cute as a Disney character, and can be very approachable when feeding on the ground. They often take advantage of spilled grain fed to dromedaries, as well as the many insects found among their dung; in fact, the main challenge when photographing them on the ground can be finding them on a dung-free patch...

Female Desert Sparrow.

Desert sparrows breed between March and August, either singly or in small colonies. Although they sometimes build nests in trees, in villages they usually nest inside holes in walls or roofs, lining them with wool, lint or anything they may find. The Emberiza Fund is currently researching a project in the Merzouga area of Morocco, to try and provide Desert sparrows with nest boxes that, by size and location, cannot be used by House sparrows.




For more photos of these and other Moroccan birds, go to my photo website
If you are interested in birding Erg Chebbi and other areas of Morocco, visit Boletas Birding