Wanderings in the Strangest Summer: Elton to Bradford Dale 17th June 2020

17th June 2020 

I took the short drive to Elton, not to be confused with the same name, once again, and parked near the church, where I was greeted almost immediately by a confiding young Song Thrush.  From here, and in pleasant weather, white cloud above, I crossed the farm fields where a magnificent Hereford Bull nuzzled affectionately with one of his cows. A glance signalled permission to cross, and I did so. I walked through meadows now teaming with Meadow Browns and Small Tortoiseshells, even on this overcast day.

Song Thrush at Elton

Then I crossed some 'improved' fields, ugly dayglo green dairy deserts, little more than lawns, with few butterflies. I waked past enclosed copses fenced in by barbed wire. Barbed wire was a feature only of the improved fields, curiously. I reached a rock-strewn slope and descended through the cattle, and paused to view a small pond, signs advertising it for angling, where coots and tufted ducks swam. The Eastern end of Bradford Dale was heavily managed and well trodden, but there were wild flowers down to the water's edge attended by smart Red Admirals and yet more Small Tortoiseshells.

The Eastern side, where I walked beyond the bridge in Youlgreave, was more wooded in character, though host to Grey Wagtails, swans, and an area of slow, crystal clear water designated for swimming. I walked into the woodland, in decreasing light, as storm clouds gathered. The river had historically been managed for fish, once on a commercial basis, and was divided into concrete pools, each holding a family of Mallards, some with large, near adult size juveniles, others with downy doughball ducklings. The weather was on its way, but still I paused to enjoy a Dipper darting in and out from a nest in some pipework where the river flows under a small arch bridge.

I took the footpath through some wetlands, across a camp site, abandoned for the time being, past a field of inquisitive bullocks, who walked in step with me on the other side of a fence, and reached a narrow road near one of a couple of places in the UK called Robin Hood's Stride. Here the heavens opened, and I found a memorial bench overhung with branches, I wish I could remember to whom it was dedicated, but to their family I am grateful, as from this bench I watched fork lightning split the sky, as the downpour drew on. Hares darted at the sound of thunder like gunfire, and cattle bellowed in their frustration, and gathered together around the loudest. Birdwatching was out of the window, butterfly spotting a laughable dream

When the rain alleviated a little, I made my way back to Elton. When it had stopped, I shivered. To my surprise, on my way back to Elton, I saw a Barn Owl, floating ghostly over the fields. Perhaps the rain had been so heavy mice and voles had been flooded out of their holes. It dived into the grass, stayed down a moment, and then was up again and flying. I reached for my camera, but found its viewfinder and LCD display frosted by condensation. 

I made my way back to my car, shivering, disassembled the camera, hopelessly it transpired, a victim of the deluge, on the passenger seat to dry. As I drove, another storm rolled into the green valleys.

Grey Wagtail

Butterflies Seen: Elton-Bradford Dale: Small Copper 1, Red Admiral 1, Small Tortoiseshell 6, Meadow Brown 29. 

Bradford-Alport: Small Tortoiseshell 8, Meadow Brown 1. 

Bradford Dale East: Red Admiral 1, Common Blue 1, Small Tortoiseshell 5, Meadow Brown 3.

Bradford Dale West (inclement weather) Green Veined White 1, Small Tortoiseshell 2.

Birds Seen: Greylag Goose,Mute Swan, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Pheasant, Buzzard, Moorhen, Coot, Woodpigeon, Barn Owl, Swift, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Kestrel, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Swallow, House Martin, Long Tailed Tit, Chiffchaff, Wren, Treecreeper, Starling, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Robin, Redstart, Dipper (visiting nest) House Sparrow, Grey Wagtail, Chaffinch, Goldfinch. 

Lockdown Walks, A retrospective. 25th April-

Wirksworth - Carsington Trig Point - Middleton - Stoney Wood. 25th April 2020

Today I walked out of Wirksworth along the green part of Summer Lane, through its ancient leafyness and then down through the blooming fields of dandelions. I joined the road to Callow and accessed the Trig point near Carsington. It boasts a good view of the surrounding countryside and Carsington Water itself. The water was clear and calm, and looked cool beneath the blazing summer sky.

A field of Dandelions close to Carsington Water. 

I made my way down to the end of the reservoir, where Reed Warblers sang in the small reed bed, their curious, rhythmic song, perching openly high in the reeds. A long-staying pair of Goldeneye, a beautiful, black, white and bottle green duck, a wintering species in these parts, a tree nester of forest fringed Northern lakes in summer, was a welcome sighting, and in the distance I caught sight of the wintering Great Northern Diver, something of a 'star' species at Carsington with up to three individuals wintering on site pretty much annually. The size of a Goose, thick-set, if a Great Crested Grebe is Bruce Banner the Great Northern Diver is the Incredible Hulk, this bird spends much of its time underwater, hunting fish with a bill like a broadsword, so seeing it at rest on the surface was unusual. 

A Garden Warbler sang in the increasingly verdant trees which fringe the lake. The leaves had really begun to burst, obscuring the water at many points.

Handsome sheep near Middleton Top.

On my return journey I encountered another stunning male Redstart, near Middle Peak Quarry, a species I had not expected to find so abundant within a walk of my home, and a pair of Red Legged Partridges, an introduced game species were visible by the path through the quarry, and represented something of a local 'tick.'

Record shot of Red Legged Partridge in Middle Peak Quarry. 

 

Birds Seen: Canada Goose, Greylag, Gadwall, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Goldeneye, Red Legged Partridge, Pheasant, Great Northern Diver, Great Crested Grebe, Buzzard, Coot, Oystercatcher, Lapwing, Black Headed Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Swallow, Willow Warbler, Chiffchaff, Reed Warbler*, Garden Warbler*, Wren, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Mistle Thrush, Robin, Redstart, House Sparrow, Pied Wagtail, Bullfinch, Linnet, Chaffinch. 

Butterflies seen: Orange Tip, Brimstone, Peacock, Small Tortoiseshell, Green Veined White, Small White

Wirksworth-High Peak Trail. 26th April. 

On the last day of the sunshine, I took a stroll from Wirksworth up towards the High Peak Trail, aiming for Ramshaw Rocks. I did not get there, but we passed through damp tunnels and encountered a couple more showy male Redstarts in the fields near Middle Peak Quarry, and a Skylark sang near the turning for Carsington. 

Birds Seen: Pheasant, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Raven, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Skylark, Swallow, Long Tailed Tit, Willow Warbler, Chiffchaff, Blackcap, Whitethroat, Wren, Robin, Redstart, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Linnet, Goldfinch. 

Butterflies seen: Green Veined White, Red Admiral, Peacock, Small Tortoiseshell, Orange Tip. 

Wirksworth-Carsington Water-Middleton Top

Natty and I walked, in very changeable weather, across the fields from Summer Lane, to the Trig Point I'd visited a couple of days before, which we now knew was called Hasker Farm, when a dark grey weather front rolled in from the North, the Heavens opening and hastening our descent to Carsington Water.
Here, after the short, sharp shower, we found Reed Buntings singing in the Hopton Reed Beds. There were hundreds of hirundines over the water, and a couple of Swifts, once supposedly called storm swallows for their habit of appearing in front of heavy rain, were among them, our first of the year.  and Moorhen chicks were being fed. We returned via Middleton Top, across fields of cattle, where small Bullocks briefly surrounded us, though we bravely walked on, and upon reaching an invisible line, the Bullocks gave up following.

Countryside with a view of Carsington Water. 

There was a bright sunburst over Middlepeak Quarry, and we enjoyed the sight of a rainbow over Wirksworth. 
Highlight of the day occurred when, drawn by the anxious chatter and alarm calls of Blackbirds and Blue Tits, we discovered Tawny Owl, perched openly in a tree in a tiny roadside copse on the outskirts of town, mobbed frantically by small passerines. In a remarkable encounter, this shy nocturnal predator, so seldom encountered in the daylight, looked us directly in the eye as we stood on a public road.

Tawny Owl. 

Birds Seen: Canada Goose, Greylag Goose, Mute Swan, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Pheasant, Great Crested Grebe, Moorhen, Coot, Oystercatcher, Black Headed Gull, Woodpigeon, Tawny Owl, Swift*, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Skylark, Swallow, Chiffchaff, Reed Warbler, Blackcap, Whitethroat, Wren, Blackbird,Song Thrush, Mistle Thrush, Robin, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Linnet, Goldfinch. 

Continued. A retrospective through my lockdown walks.

Stoney Wood and Environs Thursday 2nd April 2020

A walk was had of a clear and bright but somewhat blustery afternoon, up through Stoney Wood, where there were several large bumblebees on the catkins, and then taking the second footpath off the hairpin bend on the Dale. Stoney Wood is a favourite local spot, and a community woodland on the site of an old quarry. There were no new migrant birds, somewhat to our surprise, but there were Chiffchaffs, Blue and Great Tits, and chaffinches, all singing. 

We then wandered onto the shorter of the two footpaths across the Middle Peak Quarry, through a tunnelled section, and then picked up the road toward Carsington. Another footpath on our left brought us back through Middle Peak quarry. A few walkers were out and about but humans remained somewhat scarce. Blackthorn, Celandine, and huge mats of some herbaceous plant with white flowers clung to the quarry walls. 

Birds seen: Lesser Black Backed Gull, Black Headed Gull, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Long-Tailed Tit, Chiffchaff, Wren, Blackbird, Dunnock, Pied Wagtail, Goldfinch. 

Bolehill, Cromford Canal, Black Rocks, Cromford Moor.   Friday 3rd April

A Longer circular walk was had this afternoon, taking the now familiar trail up from Wirksworth, past the parked historic trains, up the hill into Bolehill, through the village, along the farm track and down a network of footpaths through a pastoral landscape of spring lambs and shy cattle. I spent a little time with a beautiful, one eyed black cat, who was very friendly and affectionate. I rather wanted to bring him home. A Skylark sang. I reached the canal and looked for waterfowl, but found it all surprisingly poor, both on the canal and the derwent. Unusual. I then struck up the steep part of the high peak trail, and made my return via Black Rocks, and part of Cromford Moor, which hosts a fragment of moorland vegetation but is largely disappearing under conifer plantation. 

The view from the Cromford Moor trig point did not disappoint and I stopped for an obligatory selfie up there. as the sun broke out. The view took in part of Carsington Water in one direction, with the White Peak beyond, and the flat land toward Derby in the other. Cromford Moor was a surprising beauty, and something of a revelation and a discovery, but a few hundred metres from my home.

Birds Seen: Mallard, Pheasant, Little Grebe, Moorhen, Buzzard, Woodpigeon, Jay, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Raven, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Skylark, Long-Tailed Tit, Chiffchaff, Wren, Treecreeper, Blackbird, Fieldfare, Redwing, Song Thrush, Robin, Dunnock, House Sparrow, Pied Wagtail, Chaffinch, Goldfinch 

Cromford Moor

Part of the view from Cromford Moor Trig.

Descent via Bolehill, with Micropigs. 

Rail Transport through the 80s. 

Middleton Moor, High Peak Trail, Black Rocks and Bolehill.   4th April 2020

Another lockdown walk took me to Middleton Moor via Stoney Wood and the vastness of the Middle Peak Quarry, passing around abandoned or near abandoned farm buildings and a large stand of gorse. Middleton Moor, seldom explored by me, is something of a misnomer. On the limestone, it consisted largely of highly improved grassland, and held a few Meadow Pipits, and Skylarks sang from on high. 

Further down the High Peak Trail a Peregrine circled overhead, and Natty and small human joined me at the National Stone Centre. We climbed the steep footpath up Black Rocks to the Cromford Moor Trig Point I'd visited alone the previous day. The view was still good. I suspect it will take a while to get old. 

We walked back through the Shetland Ponies and spring Lambs near Bolehill. 

Birds: Pheasant, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Kestrel, Peregrine, Jay, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Skylark, Chiffchaff, Wren, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Mistle Thrush, Robin, House Sparrow, Pied Wagtail, Meadow Pipit, Goldfinch. 



Home. 5th April 2020

On a day spent mainly at home, Goldfinches were busy in the bushes, and were house sparrows. Black Headed Gulls flew over and a Peacock Butterfly was in the garden. An afternoon stroll about town added Greenfinch to the Lockdown List, and we also saw a Bombus lapidarius. A Buzzard was in flight over the town and the first Herb Robert was in flower. 

Part of Middleton  Moor. 

I love South Essex

Strolling on West Canvey Marshes this morning, the flat, damp expanse of grazing marshes filling the space between the snaking mud channel of Pitsea creek, and the Canvey Way Avenue of Remembrance, as the A130 becomes when it crosses onto the “island,” and in the shadow of the huge former Coryton Oil Refinery, and its docks, I was struck by something. South Essex, you are flipping beautiful. Never change what you are.

Black Tailed Godwit at West Canvey Marshes

The water on the reserve was high, and there were puddles on the paths. These wet coastal meadows are a typical local habitat, sculpted by centuries of moderately intensive human land use, the coastal grazing marshes. The reserve is still, declare the information boards the RSPB have installed about, a working farm, and cattle graze its lush swards. The pool beside the A130 was attended by busy Black Tailed Godwits, prodding about on its grassy margins, and Lapwings stood on its banks.  The gentle mews of Common Gull, and the whistles of Wigeon, striking ducks with bold yellow stripes on tops of their heads seemed to fill the air, a winter chorus, despite the constant competition from the traffic just a few metres away.   These calls are evocative of the cold winter air, these birds have travelled from distant breeding grounds in Scandinavia, or Siberia, places compared to which these windswept marshes are relatively hospitable winter habitat.

I wander on as a trio of chirping Meadow Pipits fly overhead, more seasonal refugees from the uplands. Stonechats are here too, bold, striking and confiding. Stonechats watch you as you watch them. They seem to keep an eye on the observer, and occasionally take off to snatch one of the few insects still active in late Autumn, from the air or off the ground.  As I neared the next hide I was aware of the sky filling with birds, Godwit, all the ducks, Lapwings, and smaller Starlings, so often seen in the company of Lapwings on South Essex marshes at this time of year, and previously hidden among the long grass, all taking to the air.   Presumably disturbed by all the commotion, a Grey Heron joined them too.  They wheeled and climbed, alarm calls echoing, staying airborne, indicating the presence of an aerial predator. I could not spot one.  In the photographs of the flock the roofs of passing vans on the A130 are visible, but I was not aware of them at the time. This was wild Canvey. I sat down in the hide, and as I did so the birds began to settle again, Wigeon landing on the water en masse in front of me, hundreds of them.  A circling Marsh Harrier seemed too distant to be the cause of their collective alarm. A couple of ducks took off from the other side of the water, and a shape raced toward me across the water. I couldn’t make it out at first but within a few seconds I was eye to yellow eye with a Sparrowhawk. We seemed to hold each others’ gaze for a second as the raptor climbed a little, effortlessly, giving a piping alarm call of its own, and passed over my head, and over the top of the screen, dropping in behind a hedgerow somewhere between where I sat and the Oil Refinery, and was gone from view. I have no regrets about lacking the presence of mind to point my camera at it, that would have deprived me of the eye-to-eye moments I had with the bird, and the breathless, heart racing moment.  I hadn’t recognised the bird at first because its outline was broken by the dead starling in the hawk’s talons. This was a stunning wild predator, in a stunning wild landscape.

Flocking Wigeon, with passing traffic.

Walking down the path, between the hedges, crossing the bridge over the reed beds where a few short weeks ago Natalie and I had been watching the swallows gather to roost before their flight to sub-Saharan Africa, now long gone, I could not help but wonder at this oasis, and the beautiful, underrated part of the country into which it fits, the Estuary England, the South Essex Marshes. Like so many South Essex wildlife sites, West Canvey does not exist separately from the urban and industrial places which surround it, but merges seamlessly with them to form a wider landscape, continuous and stunning and interwoven.  It is not far from Basildon, and is one of a suite of marshes the RSPB helps to look after locally. Here and in the wider area, from Fortress Purfleet, known to the RSPB as Rainham Marshes and sitting West of the Dartford Crossing, to the wintering flocks of Brent Geese and Turnstone which hang around at high tide at the foot of Southend Pier in the East, and Wallasea and Foulness Islands beyond, both noted for their wintering raptors, these sites are settle easily into a landscape shaped by human activity along the river. So many, such as the chalk habitats at Chafford Gorges near Thurrock, once a chalk quarry, or the new invertebrate reserve managed by BugLife at Canvey Wick, home to rare bees and other invertebrates, once an oil refinery, exist on Brownfield sites, shaped by industry, and these industries existed here because of the river, connecting London with the open sea.

Stonechat on Canvey Island

South Essex, I thought, as I became surrounded by the squeaking contact calls of busy long-tailed tits around me, you are bloody gorgeous and I love you. Then I thought, oh look, a Goldcrest.

Pitsea Creek.

The Mandarins of Kent

Much has been said about the damaging impacts of non-native species in the British Isles, and this publicity has been largely negative, from Canada Geese causing eutrophication of lakes with their droppings, to invasions of Japanese Knotweed and Giant Hogweed. The potential ecological risks posed by the now-familiar Ring Necked Parakeet (Psittacula krameri), noisy, shy and gorgeous, is currently However, it is worth approaching any conversation about invasive species with a degree of caution, as many species are now long-established in Britain, including the charismatic and declining Little Owl (Athene noctua), friend of farmers and nemesis of a range of agricultural pests, and the stunningly beautiful Mandarin Duck (Aix galericulata) and do not have any appreciable negative impacts.

Mandarins at Keston Ponds, Greater London. Note the enormous carp in the foreground, which scared the apparently previously oblivious ducks skyward a second later!

 

The Mandarin Duck originates from far Eastern Asia, occurring in Eastern Russia,  Japan, and most notably China. It was relentlessly collected in the latter and exported to ponds all over the World, all the while suffering reductions in its unique habitat, and is now a relatively scarce bird there, although newly discovered wild populations have bolstered its conservation status. Among the birds torn from their natural habit, were small numbers brought to ornamental lakes in Britain. They were first recorded breeding wild in the UK in London in 1946, although breeding populations were probably established much earlier.  They are now found at a small number of sites, largely concentrated in South Eastern England, although a few individuals occur at Mere Sands Wood, a wonderful woodland and wetland reserve somewhere between Preston and Liverpool, and managed by Lancashire Wildlife Trust.  Prior to the discovery of new populations in China, the British population of Mandarins in the 1990s was thought to exceed that in its native range, although in reality it may represent  10-20% of it (LNHS 2002).  This non-native population remains, far from a parochial conservation threat, a global conservation asset. Their UK strongholds are in Greater London, Berkshire and Surrey.

Among the abandoned bread. Bread is not good for birds, and incidentally, Keston Ponds was covered in floating bits of it. Please, if you can refrain from bread-throwing without upsetting yourself or your kids, do so.

Mandarin Ducks have been under-recorded in the UK due to their secretive, tree-nesting habits. Unusually for the typically chauvinistic duck family, males and females share the incubation of the eggs. Perhaps as hole nesters the male’s incredibly bold plumage represents less of a liability in terms of predation risk. The males have distinctive orange feathers on their faces, red bills, and large, orange sail-like plumage on their backs. Electric blue flashes can be seen on their backs and flanks.  While the female is less gaudy, smart in a uniform grey-brown with white underside markings and a white stripe around her big, dark eyes, she may command the prize for cutest-looking female duck, perhaps competing with the scarce, and also introduced, Carolina Wood Duck from the USA.

The rather lovely couple.

I had the good fortune to spend a couple of happy hours hanging around with the charming Mandarin Duck at Keston Ponds, in greater London, near the town of Orpington, where they live alongside the native Tufted Duck and Mallard.  They would take bread thrown to them off the water’s surface but always remained warier than the Mallards or Geese, sticking a few metres from the nearest human, of which, on a sunny day, a green oasis in metropolitan Kent attracts many.  Here they find the small, wood-fringed pools they favour in their native range, and old trees in which to nest.  They suit the place well, it represents their habitat, a similar climate to their native range, and hardly seem out of place, especially as green parakeets from Himalayan India fly squawking overhead.  Mandarin Ducks seem to me a very welcome addition to our fauna, exotic, beautiful, and here to stay.

The Mandarin Duck's habitat at Keston Ponds.

Male Mandarin Duck.

 

Birding in Geneva

As April turned into May, the beautiful Bee Girl and I ended up taking in a spot of urban birding, David Lindo style, in one of Europe’s most iconic cities, as part of a week’s holiday which included visiting a friend who lives beside the beautiful Lac d’Annecy, of which more is to come.  Despite admittedly having its fair share of typically alienating urban hustle and bustle, one is immediately struck by Geneva’s greenery, and its abundant open spaces. Its birds of prey tend to leave quite an impression too.

After arriving, on an afternoon Easyjet flight from Southend and checking into our hotel, we made our way on an evening stroll through the streets and into one of the lakeside parks, Parc du Perle du Lac. The parks were huge, immensely clean, and, conspicuously dog mess free.  The sky was wide and blue, and, as we walked among the old, exotic trees, my eye was caught by a soaring shape above the trees.  I ran, almost compulsively toward the bird of prey, but by the time I had reached it, it was gone, slow flapping away parallel to the lake shore and behind overhanging trees. I was standing on a concrete promenade with the verdant park behind me, and the huge, mountain fringed Lac Leman, expansive and calm, in front of me. Across it, on the far bank, the mountains, including the distant Mont Blanc, climbed skyward.  Though the lower slopes were clearly covered in deciduous woodland in full leaf, the peaks were still shrouded in thick snow. To our right, the jet d’eau, Geneva’s famous fountain, pumped the lakes’ water several metres into the sky, and on the far bank we could see the names of French fashion houses and Swiss watch makers in lights above the hotels.  A Red Crested Pochard floated on the lake, alone, not coming too close to the bank.  The first surprise occurred when a group of tourists, armed with loaves of white bread, began to feed it to the Goosanders. Goosanders, a species of “saw bill” duck with fish eating habits and an awkward waddle on land, are fairly scarce (but increasing) in the UK and regarded as specialised fish eaters, but these francophone-Swiss Goosanders  seemed very happy munching soft, damp white bread like Canada Geese.  The second surprise was not far off, when another large bird of prey flew low over the water. This time I did get the binoculars on it, and childish was the glee on my face when I took them down. It was a Black Kite! Now Black Kites are not uncommon across large swathes of Europe,  often co occurring with Red Kites and usually in much greater numbers, but this was my first, and it was a stunner.  I may have attempted to point it out to bemused passers-by, who paid it little attention.

Natalie and I engaged in a little mountain gazing, and enjoyed watching the Goosanders at close quarters as they waddled awkwardly about on the rocks and jetties below us, calling to mind penguins in zoos. Unlike Penguin enclosures in zoos, they waddled alongside nesting Mute Swans and Mallards. We caught the little yellow boat, part of Geneva’s public transport system, to the other side of the lake, to look for somewhere to have dinner in the old town. As we were arriving, the Bee Girl advised me to look up. About fifty Black Kites were making their way, at height, perhaps toward some roosting site in the greenery around the city, from scavenging in the mountains and around the city streets.   It was with a definite sense of joy that we walked past the lakeside cabins, sailing clubs and boat-restaurants, as the bats pursued insects around the bright lights.

The following morning we would be off to France, to Annecy, another beautiful place beside a lake, now 30 miles or so across the border, but first we took a walk up to the UN buildings, walking again through the Parc du Perle du Lac.  We paused for lunch and became familiar with some of the city's house sparrows. House Sparrows are absent from London today, but in Geneva's bustling city centre they remain common. They were confiding, and we happily shared our lunch with one or two of them! For a moment I even had a handsome house sparrow perched on my shoe!  I miss these charming little urban birds at home. They used to be common, and cities are poorer without them. In the Parc du Perle du Lac I saw my first urban Pied Flycatchers,  a pair which were drinking at a stone water fountain, and, as met one of Geneva’s most endearing, if non-native mammals. Someone had dropped some bread off a high concrete embankment onto the moss-crusted rocks below, and a Chipmunk was nibbling on it.  The animal had stripes running the length of its back, and large dark eyes best described as ‘adorable.’ A small population of Siberian Chipmunks, largely escaped pets, has been established in Geneva for some time.   We watched the nervous little creature, running into and out of its nest hole among the rocks below. Eventually a curious Carrion Crow scared it off, and we continued through the botanical gardens. A plan to visit the UN buildings came to naught, so we were able to stroll through the botanical gardens, where the sounds of free-roaming Peacocks could be heard.  A single Serin sang in one of the conifers, and we saw a butterfly we identified as a Queen of Spain, along with several orange tips.  The Black Kites were constant company, soaring overhead.

We left Geneva that afternoon to return a week later, finally making it to the UN headquarters, and also taking the Telepherique (cable car) to the top of the Mont Saleve, just over the border in France and affording wonderful views of the city. On Mont Saleve I caught sight of another new-to-me mammal, the charming, and globally common Red Squirrel, on the floor of the lush woodland.  We also saw several bees and a few unfamiliar orchids we could not identify. Later found a bench, among the trees on the slope, and reflected on how wonderful the city, and our trip had been, while enjoying the view across the city of Geneva, and the expanse of Lac Leman, as the Crag Martins and Swifts, newly arrived migrants, wheeled and circled in front of us.