Everbrown?

The forest around the Croft is full of Holm oak, Quercus ilex. Holm oak is evergreen and so our valley has always been a green place, even in the hottest summers. But this year - the second year of drought in Montseny - the trees have turned brown. 

The picture would look normal, in autumn in a deciduous forest. But here in the Holm oak forests of Catalonia it's a sign of death.

Thirsty trees

Groups of Holm oak have either died or gone into some form of drought hibernation. Around here these patches of brown seem to be associated with soil disturbance - a new path here, a drain dug there.

 

The die-back has been general, affecting all the plant life (and, we assume, some of the fauna too).

Pasture limits

In August, finally, it rained, and first the grasses and then the trees have been slurping up the water, and putting out new green shoots. 

And still governments take too little action on climate change. Shame on them.

Six Slick Snakes

Crofter's mate found these snake skins - all six of them - by our garden rockery. Looks like a whole family of snakes moulted on the same day (10th August 2022). We're not sure which species they are - but there are plenty of Ladder snakes (Elaphe scalaris) in our garden.

Cast in the same moult

His Imperial Majesty, or hers

 This huge hairy caterpillar came into the front door of the Croft, yesterday:

She or he is the caterpillar (larva) of the Emperor moth, Saturnia pavonia.

 

Nature, coming in the door

 S/he is dressed for the disco - yellow body stocking, neon-blue jewellery and that "I'll have a Bloody Mary" mouthpart.

 

Moulded slime

 The woodland next to the Croft has recently been cut, leaving the tracks covered in wood chips. I run along these tracks most days.

Recently I've tried not to step on this:

Cowpat? Dog vomit? Stale bread roll?

 At first it was yellow and fluffy - I thought it was some effect caused by horse urine. Then it dried out and turned cream-brown, so maybe it was a cowpat (there are no free cows around here, so unlikely)?

 I broke off a piece, and saw the spores, so it had to be a fungus or a mould.

Scores of spores

It turns out that it is a slime mould, Fuligo septica, also known, charmingly, as "dog vomit slime mould". It grows on moist wood chip and mulch. 

Welcome to weird nature!

A Stable Home

 A wren, Troglodytes troglodytes, has made her home in the roof beams of our donkey stable:

Messy, but safe

I can't see how many fledglings she has in there but the cheeping, and the constant in-and-out with insects indicates that there are a few.

Dry, and dry again

 It's hot and dry at the Croft:

All burnt and brown

The grasses have all died as have most of the flowering plants. The trees are holding out but the ground-water level is dropping, so they too will start to suffer. At 3pm today the thermometer read 35ºC and it has been like that for days. The forecast says it will stay like this for at least the next ten days, maybe longer.

For days, and for years, because this is the second summer in a row with low, low rainfall. So far this year we have had 211mm of rain (211 litres per square metre). By the end of July last year we had had 249mm, but both are more than 33% below the average for the first seven months of the year, 377mm.

 

 

 

 

We have started looking into getting water delivered, because our well is showing signs of distress. So far it's holding out, but for how long?

All of this is - of course - a precursor of the life we are going to have to lead as the climate emergency hits. Extreme temperatures - and the associated risks of forest fire - and resource shortages, starting with water.

 

Places like Montseny will be the canaries in our climate coal mine - crying out as the climate crisis strikes, warning us about the limits of growth, of consumption and of greenhouse gas emissions. 

 

Will our leaders listen? Will we, humanity, listen?

Bugs and birds

 I've seen a couple of beautiful bugs in the last week, as the Spring weather (wet, but warmer) has come in. As always, my bug identification is rubbish, so I guess that these are both beetles, Coleoptera, but can only guess at the family. This one might be a Tiger Beetle (Cicindellidae family), but equally it might not:

Beetle, feeling waspish

And this one could be a Leaf Beetle (Chrysomelidae family) but equally could be one of the other zillion species of bug. Either way, she or he is a beautiful metallic gold colour.

Auric, the bug

Some of the bugs are being consumed by the birds, and a pair of Blue tits, Parus caeruleus, have made a nest in the dead tree that supports our washing line. Here is one, bringing a bug back for the babes:

 

Caught in a trophic web

 

Where are the Salamanders?

 I have seen just one salamander (Salamandra salamandra) this Spring - the one I fished out of our irrigation tank in the middle of February. Normally by this time we have seen lots of them, making their way from the river beds into the woods, or vice versa, crossing the track in the dark so that we have to drive at a crawl to avoid hitting them.

 

Not sallying out...

 But not this year. Where are the salamanders?

Nature, coming in the door

We've had a lot of nature indoors, over the early Spring here at the Croft. First this Common Tree Frog, Hyla arborea, came in through the front door.

A better glass of frog

 

Then this gecko, Tarentola mauritanica, looked stuck (but wasn't, happily) in the kitchen window:

Nearly in a jamb

 

Meanwhile outdoors, but only just, I photographed this young hare (Lepus granatensis) outside the kitchen:

Hare today...

And finally, now that Spring has sprung, the lizards (Podarcus muralis) are in love:

Love story, potted

We, homo 'sapiens', occupy Nature temporarily, and without her permission. As soon as we are gone, Nature will be back in force.

2020 - Full of Fruit

The Gloria storm caused plenty of damage, but it also irrigated the Croft, and we have benefited throughout the year with better than average fruit harvests.

Happy to be olive...

First, our arbequina olive tree. This cultivar was - according to Wikipedia - first introduced to Europe from the Ottoman Empire in the seventeenth century by the Duke of Medinaceli. It is named after the village of Arbeca, in Lleida province. Last year I pruned and cleared around it, and this year it produced lots of wee black arbequina olives. I have stored some in salt solution, and for some I have used a salt-dried olive technique that has worked well.

Don't call me bitter

The Seville oranges Citrus × aurantium that I planted from seed years ago have, for the first time, given fruit. Yes, just the three oranges you can see in the picture, so a very small jar of marmalade.

Making a stamen

My neighbour picks and dries the stamens of the saffron crocus - ours grow under one of our fig trees - but it is a mighty job to gather even a few grams of saffron, so I am happy to let the bees enjoy them.

It is not only the plant kingdom that has done well this year. Our nightjars -  Caprimulgus europaeus there are at least three that regularly return to the Croft - hatched successfully. This despite the slightly suicidal method of building a ground nest next to the track, with two hungry dogs passing most days.

Ground floor apartment

 

And while we are on the ground, here is a fertile wee snail making the most of the moist conditions.

Slowing your wild oats

For next year, I have been clearing more of our olive trees. The target - many years from now - is to harvest 500kg of olives. With that quantity, we could press our own olive oil. Based on 2020's harvest, that's 496kg to go...

Oil have an olive, please

2020 - A bad year for blogs, but a good year for bugs

It has been a bad year for blogs, but a good year for bugs.

 

I have not written here since June, not for lack of motivation, but because life has become busier thanks to this Year of the Virus.

The virus has been deadly for far too many humans. But the lockdown has helped nature to thrive, starting with the insects. Here are a few examples:

First, a remarkably white spider.

...and the murderer was...Mrs White, in the Conservatory

 

Then - a reassurance for what you are about to read - two pollinators on our enthusiastic Cardus thistle.

 

This gives me a buzz, honey...

A beautifully camouflaged Hawk moth - I think it may be a Lime Hawk moth, Mimas tiliae, on the donkey stable door.

Green Hawk Down

 

And now for the bad news. My bees have died, victims of the Asian Hornet, Vespa velutina. Despite my best efforts with a solar-powered electric trap, and netting, the hornets got into the hives and killed all of the occupants.

To be, or Not to bee

 

I found the last hornet, itself killed by the bees, on the 6th December. 

The gory remains

 

I am going to take some time before I start see-keeping again. It's fascinating, but I don't want to risk starting again, until I understand better how to manage this new predator.

 

So 2020 - a bug year..

Serpent Surprise

So we were sitting at lunch when one of the Crofters noticed something strange about the window. It appeared to be moving, gliding...

...and then we saw this:

A Ladder snake, Elaphe scalaris, had squeezed in behind the window. She or he was moving too fast to measure, but must have been more than a metre long.

Green Glasssss ssssnake

She was quite insistent on coming in, and even when we had closed the window, kept on trying to get in. She scaled the grape vine outside the kitchen, and seemed to be heading for the roof when I gently picked her up and put her back into the field.

Nature is so close, here at the Croft. If we were to leave, Nature would happily take over.

Hypodermic murder

Every time they leave the safety of the hive, the bees are exposed to dangerous, bloody, unforgiving Nature. Fly too high, and the beautiful bee eaters (Merops apiaster) will catch them. Hang around outside the hive, and the imported Asian Hornet (Vespa velutina) will capture, and then disect them.

But I'd never seen this before. An Assassin Bug, Rhinocoris iracundus, killing a bee, by stabbing it with its hypodermic mouth parts and then - I assume - sucking the insides out like some honeyed cocktail:

Fly-by dinner

Juiced in time for tea

Table setting, with orange blossom

 It's rough, out here at the Croft.

Living on Others

It's all interconnected, is Nature. And here is the perfect illustration; a parasite from the plant world, broomrape (Orobanche sp.). It might be Thistle Broomrape, Orobanche reticulata, but then it might be quite a number of similar but different broomrapes. The lack of any green makes them very obvious, in this year's wet and sunny Spring:

No greens for me, chum

The wet spring has also meant a bloom in funghi, and this, I think, is Tremella mesenterica, growing on a felled oak in the woodlands. In a few years, the funghi will have liquidised the tree, enriching the humus and helping recycle the nutrients back to the new trees already growing around it.

 
We are alive thanks to these cycles and recycles...ad infinitum.

Glorious Gloria

Gloria, the storm that is currently passing over Catalonia, has left its mark at the Croft. We've had more rain in one night than we've had since records began (my records, anyway), with 128 litres per square metre (128mm) which is the maximum that my rain meter can read. My neighbour up the  track emptied his 45mm rain meter three times during the night, so likely ours ran over. The last rainfall to get near this figure was on 12th September 2006 when we had 122mm.

The donkeys don't like it:

Jings it's gey dreich here, pal

...and for the humans,  there is currently no way in, or out, except on foot. The track has been washed away, and is currently on the way to the Mediterranean:

Sink or swim

But the house is fine, we've got supplies and plenty of wood to keep us cosy, so nae worries, hen.

Update

The storm has gone, leaving us to clear up the remains. The good news is that we  now have a beach by the stream, so will be offering sun 'n' sand holidays to anyone who wants them:

Just add sun umbrella and a pink gin

Rotten beauty

It's been an autumn and winter full of fungi. Here are a couple:

A jewelled field mushroom

This might be a Pleurotacia, but then it might be a lot of other species too. It is a parasite on the stump of a dead pine tree:

Gilded gills

Sticky end

This is what happens when you try to raid honey from my hives. You get got:

Caught in the Matrix

I found this hawk moth (Sphingidae) corpse when I was cleaning out the hives this winter.

Beeched Marten

We have a Beech Marten  (Martes foina) who takes the occasional chicken. I've seen one - at least her ears - in a night-time photo in my camera trap, but had never seen one close up.

Until Boxing Day, that is, when an individual who had probably been on a blinder the night before was a wee bit slow to react to the  noises of me waking up and letting the dogs out...and so ended up in our persimmon (Diospyros kaki) tree.

Persisting in the Persimmon

She (or he, I'm not up to sexing Martens up trees) stayed there all day, disappearing only at night when the dogs were safely shut up. She is welcome at the Croft - I'm sure that it is she, with the owls, that keep the rat population at bay.

Salamanders in my Salad Spinner

We had a veterinary visit before Christmas, from a vet who is an absolute amphibian admirer. On a wet and blustery night, she headed down to the stream to count salamanders (Salamandra salamandra). In November there are lots of salamanders moving around...so she picked up a few to photograph them...

Too many for the Tupperware

...and then picked up more, and more, until we had fifteen chunky salamanders in the only container with sides that were steep enough to prevent them climbing out - my salad spinner.

We're all in a spin

Hence the aliterating title, with due respect to Lucy Daniels, the wonderful children's author of Llama on the Loose, Puppy in Peril and many other aliterating animal titles.

We photographed the salamanders - not easy, when they are warm and start to move fast - and plan to do a recapture in a month or so. Their patterns are, I think, unique to each individual so we should be able to do a population estimate with a few captures and recaptures. All of the salamanders were returned to their homes after the short spell indoors.

I'm bugged

Beetle identification is a mystery. The beetle Family - Coleopterae - are so hugely varied, with my insect guidebook noting for example that there are 30,000 species of Leaf Beetle, each different from the other.

I had thought that this bug, found today in the bark of a pine I was chopping up, was a Snout Beetle (Curculionidae), with a mere 41,000 species world-wide to chose from. Wrong again - what I thought was the elongated snout is in fact two chubby antennae. I'm bugged if I know what this is, but if anyone out there can identify her or him, let me know.

Bored, of Barking