Twitching, or one man watching the birds

The swallows are out in force at the moment, and this year appear to be worse than the wasps, nesting in every overhanging nook and cranny. If this was not bad enough, our neighbor who doesn’t live here has some pigeons living in his chimney. His flue runs past our bedroom, and they wake up much earlier than I do.

My top patio is covered in the discards of the swallows and pigeons, and sitting out for more than 10 minutes invites them all to come and sit down with me to see if I have any treats for them. I can see where Hitchcock got the idea for his film from.

At least I don’t live in Garrucha, where last year the incessant squawking of the seagulls caused a gypsy to come out at 4 in the morning with a shotgun and start blazing away into the skies. I’m told the Guardia were not impressed.

The bee catchers are also out in force, and I regularly see a wonderfully coloured pair of them swooping over the Rio Aguas on my way to work. One of the few birds I’ll actually to slow down to see, plus they eat a vast quantity of insects. They don’t seem at all fazed by the rookery by the big bridge. The big golden eagles that occasionally grace us with their majestic presence is another one worth watching out for, and they help keep the rabbits down.

I’m not a twitcher in any shape or form, but sometimes I peer over the top of my G&T and understand why some people seem to love them. I’m told that this is a good book for understanding the local birds: Birdwatching on Spain’s Southern Coast: Costa Del Sol, Costa De La Luz, Almeria, Donana and Some Inland Sites

Since all the trees in the province are either Olive, fruit, cut down or full of flesh eating caterpillars, I suppose it’s only fair that we share our eves with the noisy pests. And even if they do tend to throw a lot of mess away, it’s all part of living with nature. And it keeps the cleaner employed.


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