Going up, up, up - day 2

For my second day, I had decided to try the 3-hour hike up to the Vallon de l'Orgère, at 2000m altitude.  I had underestimated, however, just how steep the climb would be as it was literally three hours straight up!  This has to be the hardest hike I have ever done, or maybe I'm just feeling my age, but it was such a relief to finally make it to the top, with the added reward of my first Titania's Fritillary in a meadow along the final section.

Here, I was in a high, alpine valley, although still well below the treeline, with plenty of butterflies I'd not seen the day before.  At one point, a Heath Fritillary drew my attention to some fresh scat so I  just sat down and snapped away at the various blues which were coming and going.  It wasn't until I was looking through my pictures in the evening, that I discovered I'd photographed my first Cranberry Blue, one of the species I'd most hoped to see.

Heath Fritillary with Cranberry Blue!

After four hours with plenty more blues, numerous grizzled skippers and several species of Erebia, I reluctantly started the long walk back.  There was a shuttle service back down but it had to be reserved the day before, so I didn't want to wait until the end of the afternoon, with storms approaching, only to find there was no room and I had to walk back anyway.  I took a slightly different route though, along the road to avoid the steepest section, and was really glad I had decided to walk instead of waiting for the bus as I then found one of my most wanted species; the beautiful Scarce Copper.

A hunting Short-toed Eagle seen from my hotel room that evening concluded a great short getaway as I headed back to Brussels the following morning.  I'm still trying to identify all of my 300 or so butterfly pictures, so I don't yet know how many species I saw in total, but the area was fantastic so I'll definitely be going back for more. 

Going up, up, up - day 1

I was relieved to awake to bright blue skies the following morning and had decided the first day would be spent exploring the Fort du Replaton area immediately behind the hotel, since I guessed the first day would not be good for making any sort of progress hiking as I knew I'd be stopping frequently for whatever I saw.  I was climbing the steep track to the fortress by 8am, expecting to have at least a couple of hours looking for birds before the butterflies became active but, within half an hour, I'd already seen my first Marbled White, the most abundant species in the area.

This was soon followed by my first new species of the trip, and another one which turned out to be abundant, although the marked difference between males and females kept giving the impression I was seeing a different species each time.

Great Sooty Satyr (male)

Great Sooty Satyr (female)

The next few hours were rather overwhelming, with butterfly after butterfly I just  didn't recognise, beautiful scenery in all directions, and plenty of birds singing, including several Bonelli's Warblers and a song I couldn't place at all, which I managed to track down to a singing Rock Bunting.  I really didn't know where to look first, with day-flying moths, lizards and alpine flowers also vying for my attention.

With 38 potential species in the area, I was dreading seeing my first blue since I expected it to be an identification nightmare, but the first one was really large and I got good enough photo's to confirm it to be Escher's Blue.

I made very slow progress, finding more and more blues, then a meadow filled with fritillaries (Niobe, Heath, Dark-Green, High Brown and Queen of Spain) before returning to the hotel for a well-deserved break.  In the late afternoon, I tried the road up to the fort, which was much easier going and provided yet more new species, including Meleager's Blue and Marbled Skipper, before finally retiring ready for the real hike the following day.

Going up, up, up

Four years after my last butterflying trip to the Alps, I headed back there again last weekend for a very short break.  This time, I decided to try Modane, the last train station in France on the Paris to Turin line, since it seemed the most easily accessible high place, being located at 1000m altitude and just 4.5 hours from Paris.  It was rather a 'blind' decision, however, without really knowing whether or not it would be good for butterflies, but it was only after I'd booked my tickets that I discovered the area is one of the best in the whole of France for butterflies, with 173 species recorded.  Another reason for keeping it so short was the unpredictable weather in the mountains at this time of year, so I decided to have just two full days there, seeing the trip more as a try-out for future holidays as well as an excuse to finally get out of Belgium again and see some nice scenery.  Indeed, with just a week to go, the weather forecast was not looking at all promising and I almost cancelled, but I decided to go ahead anyway and at least enjoy the journey, even if I ended up watching the rain from my hotel most of the time.  Arriving late in the evening, I was pleased to see Crag Martins wheeling around outside my window and, during a short walk along the river Arc to expore the surroundings, a beautiful male Rock Thrush flew out of a tree and landed in full view, so the trip got off to an auspicious start.  It ended up being the only Rock Thrush I saw during my stay!

Cabbage warblers

I've added a few more birds to my year list over the past week.  First was a Black-winged Stilt twitched at the coast, where I also finally connected with a Sandwich Tern.  Yesterday, I headed back to the wonderfully rich area of farmland I discovered last year while twitching a Pallid Harrier and which probably holds the highest breeding density of Corn Buntings in the whole of Belgium.  There were still plenty of them singing, their jangling-key song intermixing with that of the numerous Skylarks, plus a few flava wagtails.  Much more unexpected, however, was the song of numerous Marsh Warblers emanating from amongst the cabbages and potato plants, which is not a habitat I would associate with this species.  It was made all the more bizarre when one of them did a perfect imitation of Sandwich Tern, a species it must come into contact with in its winter quarters along the coast of East Africa, since the call sounded very out of place well inland in deepest Flemish Brabant.

BE #211 (Black-winged Stilt, Sandwich Tern, Corn Bunting)

BRU #110

Fit for an emperor

Last week, I returned to the Viroin valley, the best place I know for emperor butterflies.  Unlike last year's visit, I couldn't find any Purple Emperors but there were plenty of Lesser Purple Emperors around, one of which even landed on my forehead and fed on my sweat for several minutes.  The majority, though, were of the distinctive, orange-brown clytie form.

There were also lots of Marbled Fritillaries, with this pair doing their best to ensure the species' rapid colonisation of the Benelux continues.

I returned to Mariembourg via Dourbes nature reserve, where I added a few Weaver's Fritillaries to the day's butterfly list.

Whilst waiting for my train home, a Serin started singing out of sight but by far the biggest surprise of the day was lying on the road just before I reached the station.  It seemed very flat and wasn't moving at all so I presumed it was roadkill until I was almost touching it and noticed its tongue was out!  I only managed to get the one photo before it decided I was too close and rapidly slithered off into the grass, but that was enough to be able to identify my first-ever Barred Grass Snake (Natrix helvetica).

BE #208 (Serin)

BRU #110

Summer doldrums

It's that quiet time of year in between spring and autumn migrations when most birds have stopped singing and are busy raising their young, preferably out of sight of prying eyes.  Nonetheless, I managed to twitch an immature Caspian Tern which lingered at a lake in Limburg for a few days.  Since I rarely go there in the summer, I was surprised to hear a single Turtle Dove and several Quail singing, both also new additions to my year list.  I was also pleased to see the local flock Barnacle Geese with several youngsters.  Barnacle Goose is officially only a wintering visitor to Belgium yet there are several resident groups scattered throughout the country, presumably originating from escaped/released birds.

July kicked off with a visit to my Brussels patch, where a single Red-crested Pochard has returned.  A small number, usually just two to four, of this species turns up each summer to moult, although nobody really knows from where, sometimes lingering well into the winter since the site obviously offers good, safe feeding for them at their most vulnerable time of the year.

BE #207 (Caspian Tern, Turtle Dove, Quail, Black Swan, Red-crested Pochard)

BRU #110 (Red-crested Pochard, Coal Tit)