Le Sylvandre

Last weekend, I returned to the Forêt de Fontainebleau, south of Paris, with the specific aim of finding a Woodland Grayling, or Sylvandre as it is known in French.  This is one of a complex of three, virtually identical and very variable species which can only be confidently separated by examining their genitalia.  Back in 2021, I thought I found one in Modane yet this species has yet to be confirmed in the area so it is much more likely to be an atypical Swiss Grayling, which is common there.  Woodland Grayling, however, is the only one which occurs as far north as Paris, although it is far from common and mainly flies in late July and August.  After three hours of hiking through the forest, I had seen hundreds of Gatekeepers but not a glimpse of a grayling and had already given up hope when one suddenly floated across the track.  After an exclamation of relief followed by a brief chase, it first landed on the sandy track and then moved to a nearby post so I could finally get my first, definite photo of one.  Compared with my 2021 photo, it is much more mottled and the inner edge of the white band is more curved, both features used to help to tell it from Swiss Grayling without having to resort to a magnifying glass.

Bird of the year?

My first post of the new year was supposed to be my traditional annual review, including the nomination of my 2024 bird of the year.  That idea, and pretty much everything else, got dropped, however, when I learned of France's 2nd-ever Moussier's Redstart within half an hour's walk of a train station near Montpellier.  Moussier's Redstart is one of my most-wanted birds in the world, there are direct (and relatively cheap) TGVs from Brussels to Montpellier, plus any excuse to get away from the wintry gloom of Brussels was good enough for me to book a spontaneous, 2-day trip to the Med!
Having left Brussels at 08:15, I was at the location just seven hours later, although it then took myself and a local lady at least half an hour to finally spot the bird, feeding actively but ever so discretely on the far side of a fenced-off field.  I got to watch it for around 45-minutes and even managed to get a few, distant record shots to prove I'd seen it.

It was far away, though, and the light was fading fast so I called it a day.  Rather than travelling so far there and back on consecutive days and in order to give myself a full day to find the bird just in case it didn't show the first afternoon, I'd booked two nights in Montpellier and resolved to return the following morning in the hope of getting some better pictures.  Immediately upon my arrival, I located him (a first-winter male) again but this time he was feeding along the road, repeatedly perching so close to me that I had to step back in order to focus.

After just 20 minutes, I'd pretty much filled my boots and taken all the photographs I wanted so I moved on and spent the rest of the day at a nature reserve on the outskirts of Montpellier.  This had lots of flamingos (which I'd already spotted from the train on my way to the redstart) plus a small, family group of overwintering Whiskered Terns but not much else.  The Moussier's Redstart, however, was well worth the visit and may well end up being my best bird of 2025.

Catching up

At the end of March, I had a lovely walk in the Forêt de Fontainebleau, south of Paris, hearing several singing Cuckoos and finding a single Bonelli's Warbler.  This is the closest this species breeds to Brussels but I wasn't sure they would be back so early.  Three Black Woodpeckers showed unusually well in an aerial display flight and I was very pleased with myself for locating a male Lesser Spotted Woodpecker by its tapping. 
The first half of April was very wet, especially on my days off, although a male Common Redstart which appeared next to my balcony on my birthday, was not only a nice birthday present but the 76th species for my apartment/balcony list.  Apart from a couple of brief walks in Brussels, during which I found a singing Willow Warbler and also saw my first Swallows and House Martins of the year, I'd not done any proper birding trips this month, so I spent the past couple of days at the coast.  I had planned to do a migration count this morning but the strong north-easterly wind meant there was little migration and made standing on the exposed sea-dyke unbearable so I only lasted an hour.  During that short time, though, I still managed to count almost 400 birds of 20 species going past, three-quarters of them being Linnets and Meadow Pipits in roughly equal numbers.  Over the sea, I saw small groups of Shelduck, Avocet and Knot, and five Spoonbills also flew over once I was back down in the polders.  Here, Sand Martins joined the migrating Swallows, Meadow Pipits and Linnets, with lots of Whimbrel around, a few Blue-headed Wagtails, and plenty of Sedge Warblers busy singing.

French frits

I did some cross-border butterflying over the weekend and went to Givet, in a tiny, northwards extension of France along the Meuse which is surrounded by Belgium to the north, east and west.  It was great to get away for a short break but I was hoping to see my first High Brown Fritillary, which I found without too much effort in the nearby Pointe de Givet nature reserve.

There were plenty of other butterflies too, including Swallowtail and Mallow Skipper, as well as a Grasshopper Warbler I eventually got to see singing, having heard it from afar.  Numbers of High Brown Fritillary in Belgium have increased greatly over the past fifteen years but it still remains a scarce species with the greatest concentration along the French border.  Having found my first one in France, the next step was to try and add it to my Belgian list so, the following day, I walked the 3km back into Belgium and explored the wooded hillsides around Agimont, where I found at least three more individuals.  One particular clearing was full of butterflies, with a supporting cast of Marbled Fritillary, Queen of Spain Fritillary, and this Dark Green Fritillary tussling for the longest time with a Marbled White over the feeding rights to the one and only thistle in a large patch of flowers.

Birdwise it was pretty quiet apart from another vocal pair of Ravens, whilst my second Green-eyed Hooktail was a nice dragonfly surprise as I waited at the bus stop on my way home!