The Flying circus comes to Town

 

You do not have to live in wild and relatively remote countryside to witness fascinating wildlife. I hope that this post will encourage you to look and listen wherever you are, be it from your town garden or even on your balcony.

 

A while ago I was sitting in a café in the square of the small town of Limoux in the late afternoon, when these enormous white and black birds came into view, circling just above the roof tops. Many people in the square didn’t notice, sublimely unaware of the extraordinary spectacle taking place 50 metres above their heads. It was a group of White storks (Cigogne blanche) looking for a roost for the night on their long migration south after leaving their breeding grounds, mainly in eastern Europe.

 

That year some of them settled on the gargoyles of the church steeple, others on neighbouring roofs, to pass the night before lifting off next morning as the sun created rising thermals enabling the 2 metres wingspan to climb high in the sky before gliding off together to the next column of hot air.

 

This is not a phenomenon that happens every year, but in 2023 once more Limoux was graced by these  tremendous birds. It’s an incongruous sight, but storks are known to be very tolerant of humans, often nesting on precarious piles of sticks perched on church towers or even pylons. How many of them were there it was impossible to judge, but certainly several hundred. A resident grey heron joined them (3rd from the right) obviously enjoying the company of its cousins.

 

   Thanks to Terry Malouf for the photos in Limoux.

 

Soon these large flocks will be crossing the Straits of Gibraltar to over winter in tropical Africa. However, a small percentage of them do not undertake this hazardous journey, but have become resident in Europe. There is a nesting colony in the Catalonian reserve of Aigua Molls, near Figeuras in Spain.  Many times I have enjoyed the head stretching and bill clacking displays at the beginning of the Spring mating season. The darker tips of the beaks in the photos below belong to juvenile birds, while the bird on the left is the adult.

 

 

When we renovated the outer wall of the old house we owned in Limoux, we made sure to leave some suitable holes for the local birds to profit from. Three species took advantage; Swifts (Martinet noir) and Starlings (Etourneau sassonet), and a colony of wild bees (abeille). Unfortunately renovating the old house coincided with the collapse of the swallow populations, and the 7 nests in the interior, accessed by broken windows, were never re-used, despite me providing artificial nests in a suitable location.

 

It is a startling sight to see an adult swift approach a suitable wall-cavity at full speed and then disappear inside. Having found a suitable hole they gather the nesting material on the wing; spiders’ webs, floating feathers, blown leaves, a minimalist expression of the art of nest building very suited to a bird that very rarely if ever touches the solid elements of the world rather than the air that is their true home. Only staying a brief 3 months in Europe before heading back to Africa to surf the skies – often in front of weather systems – feeding on the insects (aerial plankton) wherever they find it, sleeping on the wing, even, when they are back with us, mating in the air.

 

                    Swift chicks nearly ready to fledge.

           

 

A bee swarm circling the historic nest slot.

 

When we re-rendered the wall we had already spotted the presence of a wild bee hive, a vertical slot in the stonework. I wondered how I was going to work on the wall without disturbing the colony, but rather wonderfully the bees deserted their home that autumn before coming back the next Spring. Old photos of the facade dating from nearly a century ago showed the same dark stain, so the bees had always been in residence ever since they moved in, perhaps centuries ago. In a warm year they swarm with the old queen in May, leaving half the colony behind in the original hive, where there will be a potential new queen  being prepared to take over. Actually there are several new queens ready to hatch, but the first one to do so will seek out the other 'queen cups' and destroy them, leaving her alone to 'rule' - in a way - the colony.  

 

They were never any threat to the people in the house, or the walkers on the river bank below, no-one has ever been stung. One year, just before a big parade, I came across the town workers preparing to be lifted up to the ‘wasp’ nest armed with a spray aiming to destroy the insects, "oh no" I said "that’s my wall and ‘my’ bees" and, happily enough, without argument, they said OK and packed up and left - and the bees are there to this day.

 

I especially enjoyed spotting the enterprising starling that took advantage of a hole in the street light to provide the comfort of a centrally heated home to raise its chicks.

 

.

There is another seasonal sight that can be seen in certain towns and villages as autumn begins to bracket the  bright skies of summer; the gathering of swallows (hirondelle rustique) and house martins (hirondelle de fenêtre). Choosing a suitable electricity cable strung across a building, they will gather towards the end of the day in large numbers and chatter away, as excitement mounts before the great journey before them. Amongst the adult birds there will be a certain number of this year's juveniles, and for them this will the most hazardous journey of their lives; it is estimated that about 90% of first year birds do not make it. Inexperience, the sheer physical challenge of crossing the Mediterranean, nets strung up along the north African coast and on certain islands, being preyed upon by Eleonora's falcons, and the desert regions of Africa (and back), changing agricultural methods on the continent which diminish the supply of insect food as they travel - all this takes a toll. If you see them, wish them well and good luck.......

 

                                          House Martins, discussing the route south