Getting Raddical

Earlier this autumn, I suggested myself and a friend in The Netherlands keep each other informed of any Radde's Warblers that turn up in the hope we could finally connect with one.  A scarce, autumn vagrant to Belgium in very small but seemingly increasing numbers (2022: 7 birds, 2021: 1, 2020: 2 and 2019 none), it is, however, probably the most regularly-occurring vagrant neither he nor I have yet seen.  The number of records isn't really the reason but much more their terribly skulking nature.  Any birds that do turn up tend not to stick around for more than one or two days and, when they do, they forage exclusively in thick vegetation, making hearing their call about as much as one can hope for. 
The first of 2023 was a dead bird found in an Antwerp garden on 30 September.  Whilst not much use to the twitchers, it was at least a sign that they were on the move and there could soon be more.  During the afternoon of 5 October, the first live one was found at the Sashul, a traditional migrant trap at the coast, and it showed well until the evening. There was no sign of it on 6th but another bird was seen and photographed by two observers in the same location early on 7th.  I thus headed to the coast and spent two hours looking for it but only one other person got the briefest of glimpses all day long and it was only heard again an hour after I'd left.  Of course, the following morning it showed extremely well and was even seen bathing in some dew-covered flowers but I didn't want to go all the way back to the coast again so soon.  Monday 9 October, the start of my 5-days-in-a-row working week dawned and things got crazy.  The Sashul bird was still there, with another caught and ringed at the Zwin, and a third bird seen well just down the road from the Sashul in Zeebrugge.  On 10 October yet another was found in Ostend, whilst the Zeebrugge bird seemed to have a routine of showing well early in the morning, presumably at its roosting site, before dropping down into the shrubbery and being much more difficult to find.  This continued all week long so on Friday 13, following overnight rain which meant it was unlikely to have moved on, and working a late shift leaving me the morning free, I decided to give it another try.  I got there at 9am and could see the half-dozen birders all lined up and obviously looking/pointing at something so I literally ran the last 100 metres and was greeted by a beautiful Radde's Warbler sitting up in the open (albeit partly obscured by a stick) for a full four minutes!

It then started foraging and I got to see it really well for a total of ten minutes over the next hour, before it became much harder to follow amongst the denser vegetation.

My photo's don't really do it justice but there are plenty of much better ones online since pretty much every birder in Belgium has been to see it, and it is still there today, despite the first frost and cold nights of the autumn, with lots of Redwings on the move.  All this time, there has only been a single, 1-day bird in The Netherlands, out on the island of Schiermonnikoog.

More of Modane (part 3)

So, after two years and two aborted attempts, I finally made it back to the Vallon de l'Orgère at the start of August.  This time the bus was running and a friend from France even joined me for the first day's hike to the Lac de la Partie at 2500m altitude.

Unfortunately, it rained quite a lot while we were up around the lake so we saw no butterflies whatsoever but we did enjoy watching a flock (!) of around a dozen Alpine Accentors, and almost stepped on a White-winged Snowfinch.  The sun was out, however, for our climb up and once we got back down into the valley, so we still managed to see some butterflies, including lots of Damon Blues and my first Marbled, Mnestra's and Common Brassy Ringlets.

On the second day, I concentrated on the valley, adding a few more species and ending on this crazy puddle party at the stream we had walked down the previous day.  A single Common Brassy Ringlet was outnumbered by the many blues - I counted ten different species, including my first Glandon Blue.

By the end of the two days, I'd added 10 new species to my list, with another two photo's of the terribly difficult Pyrgus-skippers still pending identification.

More of Modane (part 2)

As mentioned in my previous post, the main reason I went back to Modane was for butterflies.  Two years ago, I'd given it a try and found it was a great place to see them, especially the picturesque Vallon de l'Orgère, at an altitude of 2000m.  I had hoped to go back last summer but my ankle injury forced me to cancel that trip so I had to wait until the end of June this year.  My plan was to take the once-a-day hiker's bus up to the valley but that didn't start running until July 1st, a week later, and there was no way I was going to attempt the nightmare, three-hour hike straight up from Modane again.  Rather than pay a ridiculous amount for a taxi to take me the 30km or so by road up to the refuge, I decided to stick to the hillside behind Modane and try to return again later in the summer for the higher altitude species.  Naturally, spending three days exploring the same area I'd done two years previously made finding any new species difficult and I only ended up with six lifers, three of which were seen during my Rock Partridge excursion further along the valley.  The biggest suprise of all, though, came on the first evening, when, tired from the day's hiking, I went for a short stroll along the river before having dinner, and stumbled upon this extremely tatty Camberwell Beauty sunning itself on the path!

More of Modane (part 1)

I'm well behind with my blogging but, at the end of June, I finally made it back to Modane, which I visited two years ago.  This time, I'd given myself four full days there, primarily for butterfles (more of which later), but I also booked a day with a local, mountain guide to try and find Rock Partridge, one of the few European species I'd not yet seen.  He admitted he'd never gone specifically looking for Rock Partridges before, most of his clients wanting to see marmots, ibex and Black Grouse, but he certainly knew where to look.  After a steep hike up to the edge of the Vanoise national park, he'd only just said that we were reaching the likely area to see Rock Partridge when he spotted a distant one on a boulder overlooking the valley.

I really hadn't rated our chances knowing how shy they are and having failed to find them elsewhere in the Alps, although admittedly where they are even rarer, so I was thrilled by our immediate success but the above silhouette was pretty much all I saw of the first bird as it then took off and disappeared behind the outcrop.  Another two very distant views of perched birds followed but I could hardly make out any colours at all, although we could hear several more calling from the hillside above us.  We thus decided to have a picnic below some rocks where my guide thought they might be and, sure enough, one then started calling.

The calls sounded ever so close and, scanning the area, we soon realised why since I located the male at the base of the arch in the centre of the above picture, using the rock formation to amplify and resonate his call.  Here is another, strongly zoomed-in shot from the same position, with the bird perched in the shadow just to the left of the pine tree.

Thankfully, my guide's assistant had brought a hand-held telescope so I finally got to see all the markings and the male was even joined by a feeding female for a while.  Mission accomplished; my one and only new (bird) species of the year thus far. 
Many thanks to Oliver Trompette, whose magnificent wildlife photography can be seen here.

Another eagle!

Earlier this month, I guided a small group in the Ardennes.  The excessive rainfall of the preceding weeks meant we failed to find Dipper and we didn't have any luck with Nutcrackers either but, just like my guided tour in May, we got to see an eagle instead!  We had climbed up the observation tower near Trois-Ponts and were admiring the aerial antics of a couple of Ravens when an immature Short-toed Eagle came down the valley and passed the tower at eye level.  This is only my second Short-toed Eagle in Belgium, the first being fifteen years ago. 
Other than that, a brief visit to the Hautes-Fagnes once again failing to find my nemesis Belgian butterfly, Cranberry Fritillary, did provide some other species.  I was admiring this beautifully fresh Small Copper (I've never seen one with such pronounced lilac spots) when a Small Pearl-bordered Fritillary obligingly landed on the same patch of thistles!

Luxerflying

Spurred on by my success with the Alcon Blue, I headed down to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg last week in the hope of finding another new butterfly, Nickerl's Fritillary.  I was probably too late for that species since I didn't see any but I did manage to record 31 species of butterfly in the country's largest nature reserve, just west of Dudelange.  This Weaver's Fritillary posed nicely on a leaf for me and there were lots of Silver-washed Fritillaries around.  I glimpsed one Purple Hairstreak and then found a tree which had several White-letter Hairstreaks, a species I've only seen once before, so I spent a long time trying to get a photo of them up amongst the leaves, which was far from easy.

Blue summer

It's been three, long years since I last added a new species of butterfly to my Belgian list.  Having already seen 81 of the 90 or so regularly-occuring species, the remainder are all rare, extremely localised and most have very short flying times, meaning a carefully planned trip to the right place at just the right time is required to have a chance of connecting with one.  Yesterday, I made an expedition to the Turnhoutse Vennengebied north of Turnhout for Alcon Blue, which is only found in three or four places in Belgium.  There were lots of Silver-studded Blues flying around trying to confuse me but, as soon as I spotted an Alcon Blue, I knew it had to be that since it was much bigger.

I only saw the one adult although I did also find two eggs on a gentian, the caterpillar's foodplant. 
Two short walks in the forest last week were much bluer, though, since I got to see a Kingfisher entering its nesthole with a fish and spent a while photographing damselflies, including Azure Bluet and this Small Red-eyed Damselfly.