The Alpujarra may be one of the best places in Europe to see birds of prey, but South West Scotland isn't far behind. In two days we saw about a dozen buzzards and two sparrowhawks (one of them was dead, but you can't have everything). Quite amazing though, was the red kite feeding station at Bellymack hill farm near Laurieston. I would estimate there were at least fifty birds there yesterday; the farmer says they sometimes get more than seventy, which is probably the entire population for Galloway. Feeding is at 2pm, and a few hungry birds are soaring over the feeding site by 1.30, with numbers steadily increasing until the bucketfuls of chicken bits are strewn over the grass and the feeding starts. It's a take-away arrangement - each bird will swoop down, grab a piece of meat in its talons, and fly off to eat and digest it in some nearby trees, perhaps coming back for more after half an hour or so. They take the food while on the wing, and hardly touch the ground itself, if at all. There's a fascinating moment at the beginning of the feast, when the birds are all circling above the site but not eating. Nobody wants to go first - but then appetite gets the better of manners, and the first bird swoops. Then suddenly they're all at it, like fat women at a wedding buffet. Here's a picture - unfortunately it just looks like dots in the sky, but that's my inadequate camera, I'm afraid. The colouring on the birds is fabulous, although of course you can't tell from this shot. One thing you
can notice is the distinctive 'v' shape of the tail feathers.
Annie bought me a fascinating little book recently, called The Cloud Collector's Handbook. I started my collection with these lovely stratus clouds seen from the roof terrace of our house. It looks like someone in Cástaras has left a dry ice machine running after a heavy metal gig.
It's hardly stopped raining since Christmas in the Alpujarra. Here, where drought and forest fires are more often the cause for worry than the occasional drop of precipitation, reservoirs are overflowing, rivers are bursting their banks and roads and bridges have been washed away. Here's a link to Chris Stewart's Guardian article about it. We're off there at the weekend, and I'm hoping the past few days of dry weather bodes well for a nice week ahead. At least with all that rain, the place will be beautifully green and should stay that way all summer - for which we still have plenty of availability for rental.
You don't need a dog in the Alpujarra, as you can always borrow one - it's a bit like that scheme with free bikes in Paris. We went for a walk in the hills above Juviles the other day and this little sweetie joined us. He was thrilled to accompany us on a circular route that took in the rocky gorse-lined path that leads to the pantaneta, then rejoins the careterra to return into the village by the cemetery. It's a lovely forty minutes or so, perfect for a miserable day when you want to get out, but you don't want to stray too far away from your fire in case you get soaked. Anyway, Bonbon (as we named him, after the dog in that Argentine movie) clearly knew this circuit, and was not prepared to have us deviate from it. When at one point we considered going back the way we came, he got quite cross with us, barking and herding us in the "right" direction.
You know where your meat comes from in the Alpujarra. Disappointingly, however, although this pig was killed immediately outside our front door, we didn't see a sausage.
