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.

Roodkindergarten

My Brussels patch of Roodklooster/Rouge-Cloître has once again become one big, open-air crèche for this year's offspring.  This female Tufted Duck was accompanied by no less than 9 chocolate fluffballs and a female Pochard, another scarce breeder in Brussels, had three ducklings.  An adult Great Crested Grebe was carrying three very young chicks on its back but I also saw a much older youngster on another pond, meaning at least two pairs have bred.  Other species whose offspring I saw included Canada Goose, Mute Swan, Reed Warbler and Grey Wagtail, while the mixed species flock of young tits also contained a juvenile Blackcap or two.  The first bird I saw upon my arrival, however, was a fledgling Green Woodpecker which must have just left the nest since it was still learning to fly and looking very clumsy.

Berlin beauties

I returned to Berlin last weekend and a trip there is simply not complete without me visiting the Moorlinse Buch.  Since last year's visit got me my one and only Large Chequered Skipper, I was keen to see if I could find it again but the weather was terrible for butterfly activity; overcast with strong winds and the occasional light shower.  I still headed to the spot I found it last year, to no avail, but was content seeing several birds we don't get in Brussels such as the breeding Red-necked Grebes, Red-backed Shrike, my first-in-Germany Corn Bunting singing, and a Tree Sparrow family with some ever-so-cute fledglings.  The area is bordered to both the west and north by other nature reserves, so I decided to continue from the western one (where I found last year's lifer) to the northern one, which I'd never explored.  Just when I'd given up hope on lightning striking twice, a small skipper darted across the track and landed in the the grass and I instantly knew what it was.

Exhilarated by this discovery, I continued through the rain, trusting the forecast that it would clear by mid afternoon, to an area I'd noticed had just two previous reports of another lifer butterfly for me.  This one seemed even rarer and, with very few butterflies on the wing, I really didn't expect anything but nothing ventured nothing gained.  Unbelievably, as soon as I got to an area I thought looked like good habitat, I spotted another small brown butterfly in flight and had a feeling it was what I was looking for.  It co-operatively perched for just a few minutes before disappearing again, allowing me to get several pictures of my first Chestnut Heath!  

Dainty surprise

My birding starts to take a backseat in June as my attention is drawn to butterflies and dragonflies.  Yesterday, I visited one of Belgium's best reserves for butterflies near Couvin and it was swarming with Marbled Whites.  I saw at least 22 species, culminating in this magnificent Lesser Purple Emperor.  A couple of weeks ago, I tried and failed to find my lifer Dainty Damselfly, a Mediterranean species which is rapidly spreading north, after one had been reported in a Brussels park.  The following day, I went looking for butterflies in Belgian Luxembourg, not finding the species I was hoping for but getting this nice High Brown Fritillary instead.  I also took a few damselfly photo's and, once I got home, I realised they were Dainty Damselflies, the very species I'd tried to find the day before!

Cross-border butterflying

Last month, I spent a week in Basel.  I did a little birding, seeing Dipper, Black Woodpecker, a male Golden Oriole, and a pair of Ruddy Shelduck with no less than 10 goslings, but my main target was my lifer Reverdin's Blue.  A local had given me some good tips so I walked over the border to a nice little nature reserve just inside Germany.  At first, there didn't seem to be any blues whatsoever but I did manage to find a couple of males, although I wasn't at all sure at the time since they seemed to be lacking the silver-centred black spots typical of this genus.

Black and blue

I did some more evening birding over the weekend with a trip to see Nightjars on their breeding grounds along the Dutch border.  We got to watch several birds displaying, including lots of wing-clapping, and heard many more, with their churring song echoing around the heath as we left.  It was, however, my first trip to the heathland this year, so I went back yesterday morning to catch up with some of the diurnal specialties of this habitat.  A far too early start for my day off paid off with at least four Hobbies putting on a wonderful show as they caught dragonflies low above the Stappersven, which held two, summer-plumaged Black-necked Grebes.  The heathland was now filled with the song of Tree Pipit, Willow Warbler and Woodlark instead of Nightjars and I even found a dead, juvenile Smooth Snake along the road.  Best of all, though, were two very elusive species - Black Woodpecker seen twice and a singing Bluethroat.

June is by far the best time to visit the heathlands, which can almost seem devoid of birds, apart from the ubiquitous Stonechat, later in the summer.

Northern night's

Last night, I added the first new species to my Belgian list since last September's Siberian Stonechat! 
This time, it was a heard-only Thrush Nightingale which was only reported a few days ago but has apparently been around for a couple of weeks.  It was only giving sporadic bursts of half-hearted song until I left just after 9pm but then really got going according to those who stayed later.