Topsy-turvy world

I'm still struggling to get around but, thankfully, one of the guides at Cristalino Jungle Lodge is keeping me busy whilst stuck at home by regularly sending photo's for me to identify or just admire. 
Now, everyone knows that butterflies fly during the day and moths at night, and their respective Dutch names of dagvlinder and nachtvlinder even incorporate that fact.  Most people also know, however, that some moths are active during the day, such as the Hummingbird Hawk-moth, which has resulted in several laymen coming up to me and claiming they have seen a hummingbird in Europe, the burnets, or this Nine-spotted Moth (Amata phegea) from the Alps.

Fairly recently, though, a group of moths, the Hedylidae, were found to be genetically closer to the butterflies than other moth families and thus reclassified as nocturnal butterflies.  There is even one species of Hedylidae, Macrosoma tipulata, which is more active during the day, making it the exception to the exception to the rule, or a day-flying nocturnal butterfly!  Try to get your head around that one, or just admire the latest addition to the Cristalino butterfly list, which has now officially passed 1000 confirmed species thanks to these nocturnal butterflies.

Macrosoma sp by Sidnei Dantas

Taking stock

I've not forgotten about my blog but have been stuck in bed for most of the past five weeks with two(!), consecutive sprained ankles.  The only birds I've been able to see, therefore, have been the Swifts screaming around above my balcony, although a Canada Goose spotted in a Brussels park on the way home from a hospital appointment made a welcome change.  Things are finally getting back to normal, though, albeit it very slowly, so I hope to be out and about and blogging again some time soon.

Marsh rares

Two years ago, I saw my first Marsh Fritillary at their one and only colony in Flanders.  Last year's focus on a birding big year didn't leave much time for anything else so I was keen to return there this month to see if the Marsh Fritillaries were still there and try to get some better pictures.  The first one I saw was similarly ragged but I eventually counted at least five different individuals and even saw a couple mating.

I'd picked what was probably the hottest day of the year, though, so apart from dragonflies and a few flowers, there was very little else to see.

Ragged Robin

Heathland highlights

Tree Pipit by Theo Hortensius

I made two separate trips to Kalmthout Heath over the weekend.  Saturday was very hot and it was rather quiet as a result, although there were Stonechats everywhere, with the usual heathland specialties of Tree Pipit and Woodlark also singing.  Despite checking lots of trees, I was unable to find a day-roosting Nightjar, so I returned there on Sunday evening to hear them singing.  The first one started churring at 21:43 and I even got to see the silhouette of one in flight with what little light remained at 22:00.  Whilst waiting for the Nightjars to get going, I managed to locate a singing Pied Flycatcher and enjoyed watching two Hobbies hunting low over the heather for what seemed to be moths, although the first dragonflies were already on the wing.

Berlin breeders

Last weekend, I returned to the wonderful Moorlinse Buch in Berlin, which I discovered only last October. The only geese around were Greylags but the winter visitors had been replaced by plenty of breeding Red-necked Grebes.  Some of the nests were ridiculously close to the shore, and the above picture was taken with my mobile phone!  There were lots of singing Nightingales too, with a hunting Marsh Harrier, displaying Goldeneyes, migrating Swallows and a single, male Garganey.  In some scrubby woodland nearby, I got great looks at a female Lesser Spotted Woodpecker and found both Common Redstart and Spotted Flycatcher, whilst a marshy area surrounded by reeds was full of calling Blue-headed Wagtails and at least six Wood Sandpipers.  This is fast becoming one of my favourite city birding sites and is well worth a full morning if you are ever in Berlin. 

Albion albatross

Two weeks ago, I read that the Black-browed Albatross, which had spent most of last summer at Bempton Cliffs, was back again!  Having previously written to a WP-listing friend suggesting that, if it returned this year, we should give it a try, it took me just 24 hours to convince him to join me and book our Eurostar and UK train tickets as well as the nearest possible accommodation to the cliffs, the lovely little secretcourtyard.co.uk in Bempton itself.  Just a week later, i.e. last Friday, we finally made it to Bempton after a mammoth Brussels-York-Scarborough-Bempton train journey which took eight hours.  Despite this, we headed to the lookout early on Saturday morning and were relieved to meet some birders on the way who confirmed the bird was around.  Once there, it only took around 15 minutes before someone shouted "there he is" and I frantically started scanning low above the sea, only to realise it was up at eye-level right in front of me!  For the next 45-minutes or so we enjoyed wonderful views of it flying around, floating on the updraughts, and occasionally settling in amongst the Gannets.

At 09h10, it flew off out to sea and was not seen again all weekend, despite us making another two visits to the cliffs over the two days we were there.  We were extremely lucky, therefore, and both thrilled to have finally seen our first albatross so well at the wonderful Bempton Cliffs, the smells and sounds of which always make for a magical birding experience, albatross or not.

New additions

As you've probably gathered from the lack of posts lately, I've had little time for birding since my Blyth's Reed Warbler twitch to The Netherlands.  The highlights, once again, were seen or heard from my apartment so that my apartment list now stands at an impressive 75 species since I moved here in the autumn of 2015.  The first new addition was a pair of White Storks I noticed passing high over the park last week and, two days ago, I struggled to hear a singing Willow Warbler above the noise of the numerous and extremely vocal Blackcaps and Chiffchaffs.  The Willow Warbler is still there today, simultaneously singing and foraging for insects amongst the blossoms.  Another good bird for my balcony, although not a new one, was a handsome male Black Redstart, my first of the year, perched briefly on the railing.  During one of my few walks in the forest before the birch trees started trying to make up for lost time and pumping out as much pollen as they can, I saw a Kingfisher entering its nesthole and found this beautiful Snake's Head Fritillary, which I don't think I've seen before.