Those Challenging Satyrs

If a group of butterflies comprises 2400 species, we can expect some identification challenges! In the Spanish Pyrenees, I found plenty.

The upper Hecho Valley is rife with puzzling satyrs.

Satyrs are a subfamily of nymphalids, or brush-footed butterflies. These are the pearly-eyes, the wood nymphs, the heaths, the arctics, the alpines. Most of them haunt shady woodlands or alpine fellfields. Tropical satyrs like Pierella can be spectacular.

Great Banded Grayling (Kanetisa circe)

The first Great Banded Grayling I saw looked so much like a big admiral that I initially skipped over the satyrs in trying to identify it. Like many of the other local butterflies, it was nectaring on Pyrenean Eryngo.

Okay, let's try some browns.

The Meadow Brown seems pretty straightforward––although in the Land of Satyrs, that's no guarantee I got it right! We had previously seen it in Poland as well.

Meadow Brown (Maniola jurtina)

This Large Wall Brown doesn't quite match the field guide pictures, but it's close. A big part of the problem is that many species are variable across their large ranges. Very focused local field guides are hugely helpful, where they exist.

Large Wall Brown (Lasiommata maera)

The heaths are lovely small satyrs. Dusky and Pearly Heaths are similar. I'm basing this ID on the very indistinct eyespot on the forewing, even though most Pearly Heaths sport a wider white flash on the hindwing. Their larvae feed on grasses.

Pearly Heath (Coenonympha arcania)

Now we come to the ringlets (which in North America we call the alpines)––genus Erebia, with no fewer than 13 plates in the field guide! In North America we have a hefty 7 species; in Europe, 46 species, plus a wide array of subspecies. That's an astonishing radiation for one genus of butterflies!

I've always liked the alpines, in part because I love the alpine regions where they live. And how lucky is this? The ringlet which allowed the best photography appears to have been a distinctive one, the Piedmont Ringlet, with its very dark under hindwing and bright topside.

A Piedmont Ringlet (Erebia meolans), below shown probing a shoe which must have wandered through something especially delectable.

But the graylings were at the top of the heap for confusing, and especially the choice between Rock or Woodland Grayling. I'm going with Rock Grayling here, based on matches with photos at websites such as www.eurobutterflies.com. The bold white band on the hindwing seems broader and the outer border of that band doesn't mirror the irregularities of the inner border. I welcome comments from lepidopterists!

Rock Grayling (Hipparchia alcyone)

Grayling (Hipparchia semele)

The Grayling is the most widespread of Europe's big Hipparchia satyrs. And it is one that isn't too hard to identify... maybe.

Pyranees Butterfly Sampler

Hiking took Wendi, Leona, Alan and me into various nooks of the upper Hecho Valley, a splendid region of the Pyrenees, and one replete with butterflies and flowers. These public trails wind through sectors of the Parque Natural Valles Occidentales, or Western Valleys Natural Park. 

In three days, we barely sampled the miles of trails that you could walk. All were in excellent condition. One, straight up the road from Hotel Uson and past Boca de Infierno, passes dolmens and other artifacts of prehistoric humanity.

The butterflies were exceptional! Here are a few:

Old World Swallowtail (Papilio machaon) in the upper Hecho Valley

(Photos by Narca)

The Old World Swallowtail is the type species of the genus Papilio––the first one to be described by Linnaeus, who devised the system of classiflying organisms into related groups. Despite the common name, this swallowtail occurs at higher latitudes across the entire Northern Hemisphere, including North America, so it has a classic Holarctic range. Most of its populations are in good shape, although it is a protected species in some countries like Austria, the UK, and India.

Its cousin, the Apollo, is a tail-less swallowtail, closely related to the parnassians of montane North America. They swoop rapidly across the mountain slopes, and I felt lucky when this one deigned to pause briefly on a composite.

Apollo (Parnassius apollo)

The highly prized Apollo is considered threatened by the IUCN. Finland is among the countries declaring it endangered. Its decline is likely due to a combination of factors, including habitat change and––in some areas––over-collecting. Locally, automobiles are a factor, notably in South Tyrol, Italy. Because the few Apollos remaining in Finland and Sweden are restricted to limestone soils, it is thought that acid rain may also have contributed to their decline. Where limestone moderates the effects of acid rain, this beautiful butterfly continues to soar across the mountain meadows.

Heath Fritillary (Melitaea athalia)

Any real butterfly experts out there, help me out! I think that this is a Heath Fritillary, but frits are subtle beasts, and my field guide is none too clear. If so, it is a species doing well in several parts of Europe, but not in the UK, where it is one of the rarest British butterflies. (After 30 years of conservation efforts, British stewards have seen rebounds at Blean Woods National Nature Reserve.) Its host plants include plantains, speedwells, Common Cow-wheat, foxglove, and toadflax. (Note that in North America we would call these smaller fritillaries checkerspots or crescents, but in Europe they are all called fritillaries.)

A female Large Skipper (Ochlodes sylvanus, a.k.a. O. venatus)

Sunning on a rock is another Palearctic species, which ranges from Europe across Asia to Japan. The Large Skipper is the sole European member of a genus that is more diverse in North America. One of the grass skippers, it is shown here with a leaf of its larval food plant, grass. Like other typical skippers, its caterpillar constructs a leafy shelter by curling a leaf, then stitching it with silk. The young caterpillar hides inside its leaf and feeds.

Skippers are part of a lepidopteran lineage separate from other butterflies. They differ in having hooked antennae clubs and larger eyes. They have a very sturdy look, with strong wing muscles which support wings that are usually smaller in proportion to the rest of their bodies. Within the skipper family, a basic division is between the grass skippers, like the Large Skipper above, and the spread-winged skippers, like the intriguing Marbled Skipper, pictured below.

Marbled Skipper (Carcharodus lavatherae)

Attractive Marbled Skippers are reminiscent of North American powdered skippers. Their host plants are mints, including Stiff Hedgenettle or Yellow Woundwort (Stachys recta) and Mountain Tea (Sideritis scordioides). Both plants are thought to have medicinal value: they contain antioxidants and also counter inflammation and microbes. Sideritis is used in Greek cuisine. These two plant genera are very closely related, and genetic studies may eventually show that they belong in the same genus. 

Many mysteries in the relations between organisms remain to be unraveled! Taxonomists should have job security for a very long time––for as long as the public values a deep understanding of nature.

Wikipedia gives a list of butterflies of the Iberian Peninsula, including some photos and range maps.

Coming next: those challenging satyrs!

New Life

A quick flash to Portal, Arizona, before we continue with Spain: This morning's walk up the South Fork road with long-time friends, Chet and Irma, affirmed that new life is thriving there.

Just below the South Fork bridge, a Wild Plum is fruiting. (Some people call this tree a Wild Cherry. Either name works for Prunus americana.) Feasting on those fruits were a family of American Robins and a juvenile Elegant Trogon. It is good news that at least one of the few trogon pairs that attempted to nest this year has successfully raised their chick. Any birders headed up South Fork will enjoy watching this tree, to see what might be attracted to the bounty. It is immediately next to the road, on the creek side, a short distance below the bridge.

Wild Plum (Prunus americana) in fruit

(Photos by Narca)

A mother Coati was attempting to corral her rambunctious kits and lead them away from the bipedal, optic-laden strangers coming up the road. Nursing worked to catch their attention for about 2 seconds, but there was too much world to explore!

They don't herd any better than cats––better just carry them by mouth!

Stash them on a tree trunk.... Maybe they'll stay put there.

For 5 seconds, anyway!

Silver-washed Fritillary

I hadn't anticipated the sheer visual impact of masses of Silver-washed Fritillaries nectaring on masses of dusky purple Pyrenean Eryngo.

A Silver-washed Fritillary, Argynnis paphia, joins a Five-spot Burnet Moth to nectar on Pyrenean Eryngo, Eryngium bourgatii.

(All photos by Narca)

I came home wanting to learn more!

The distinctive silver wash is on the underside of the greenish hind wing, an area that is spotted in most fritillaries. The four stripes on the top forewing of the males are actually androconial scales, or scent glands, used to produce pheromones that females in theory find irresistible. Their courtship flight is spectacular: the female flies in a straight line, while the male performs loop-the-loops around her, showering her in scented scales.

A male Silver-washed Fritillary nectars on Spiny Thistle 

(Carduus acanthoides).

Just one more photo...

Among the largest of European butterflies, these woodland fritillaries are unusual in that the female does not lay her eggs on the larval host plant––various species of violet––but instead places them in crevices in the bark of a nearby tree, usually an old oak. Caterpillar hatchlings consume their egg cases, then spin a silk pad on the tree, attach themselves to it, and go straight into hibernation, deferring their feeding until spring.

With warm March weather, the caterpillars emerge from their crevices and find violets to feed on. When the caterpillar matures it creates a chrysalis, and emerges as an adult about 3 weeks later, in early summer. Their flight period is June through August.

Okay, just one more...

We encountered Silver-washed Fritillaries in good numbers throughout the mountains, both in the Pyrenees and the Guadarramas. Apparently they were in decline in several European countries for a couple of decades, but have been making a comeback in the past 10 to 20 years. Being a powerful flyer, this fritillary is well able to recolonize locales when they again support suitable habitat.

This big, graceful, strong-flying butterfly occurs from Sweden to North Africa, and from Ireland to China and Japan––a classic Palearctic range.

This research has had an added benefit: it solved the identity of another fritillary among the photos––the female Silver-washed Fritillary!

Female Silver-washed Fritillaries lack the striped sex brands on the forewing and aren't as bright an orange.

The Pyrenees!

The Pyrenees in the Hecho Valley (Photos by Narca)

As we drive into the Hecho Valley in the Pyrenees, nor far from the border between Spain and France, the grand massif rises around us, and wildflowers cloak the slopes. We've arrived at the peak of summer, and it is very, very beautiful.

Hotel Uson, a guesthouse that serves breakfast and dinner

We stay at a rural guesthouse, Hotel Uson, perfectly located for exploring hiking trails and finding Wallcreepers. Our hosts, Lucía and Imanol, point us in the direction we need to go, with explicit instructions for finding a Wallcreeper territory which they are familiar with. All we need to do in order to stay on the right trail is follow the red and white markers.

Easy, right? We've allowed three days, just in case.

The Wallcreeper is a Grail bird, with wings that flash maroon, black and white. It occupies a niche unlike any other bird's: it creeps like a nuthatch across the face of immense cliffs. Perhaps it is the combination of rarity, beauty, and lifestyle that so sets it apart from other birds, and makes seeing one an imperative.

We've looked for Wallcreeper in China. We've looked for it in France. We looked for it once before here––just up the road from Hotel Uson, at Boca de Infierno––in spring, when the site lived up to its name, the "Mouth of Hell." We searched then, with no chance of success, in the teeth of a fierce late spring storm which blew sheets of horizontal snow between us and the cliffs frequented by Wallcreepers.

Trail at Gabardito Reserve

Our first morning we set out from Hotel Uson, following the precise directions to the parking area at Gabardito Reserve, only a few miles away. The red and white flagging is obvious, and we follow it, remarking how well-marked the trail is. But the 2-kilometer walk we're expecting seems a lot longer than 2 kilometers! Hours later we finally find a cliff, and it seems remotely to fit the description of The Territory. It is late afternoon, and we've enjoyed flowers, butterflies, and Lammergeiers. We vow to clarify matters and return!

Lammergeier, or Bearded Vulture, a Grail species for many!

Next day a big footrace happens. It turns out, all that flagging was marking the route of the race. Our markers are little peeling rectangles of red and white, painted at rare intervals on rocks.

But our kind hosts have corrected our idea of where to walk, and we return by a much shorter route to yesterday's cliff, and continue a little further around it. There indeed is the Wallcreeper Cleft-in-the-Cliff––and there is the Wallcreeper! It has been worth every hour of effort over the years!

A Wallcreeper territory

The Wallcreeper frequents a deep cleft in the cliff face. He forages around plants that cling to a precarious perch, and we think we see the location of the nest, as he returns occasionally bearing food. Once he chases the kestrel that is nesting nearby on the same massive rock wall. Once two Wallcreepers are visible.

A female Common Kestrel approaches her nest, showing warm tones in her tail.

The Wallcreepers come and go on foraging forays. They appear tiny on the gray immensity of the cliff face. We spend hours savoring them––and their environs.

Red-billed Choughs also nest nearby.

Griffon Vulture

Griffon Vultures, Red-billed Choughs, Alpine Swifts, Crag Martins, and Lammergeiers all soar overhead.

Coal Tit, a cousin to our chickadees

A Coal Tit hammers on a seed. The very air sparkles. We find an immense lily, which I'm still trying to identify. Butterflies are abundant. (I'll do a separate post on them!)

You'd probably enjoy seeing what a Wallcreeper looks like. I've added an arrow to help. They aren't easy to find, are they?

The Grail (Computer-enhanced Pen & Ink by Narca)

Segovia

Segovia is an ancient walled city topped by the Alcazar, or royal palace. It fully deserves its status as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Leona, Wendi, Alan and I spent a day wandering its maze of narrow streets and marveling at the exquisite craftmanship in the details of the old buildings.

Segovia's magnificent cathedral––the last Gothic cathedral built in Spain

Segovia's deepest roots are Celtic. The settlement next fell into Roman hands, and Romans built the 2000-year-old aqueduct which today dominates the approach to the old walled city. The city's fortunes waxed and waned over the centuries. Its location along major travel routes led to its becoming an important center of trade for wool and other textiles.

Segovia's 2000-year-old Roman aqueduct, complete with Common Swifts

Segovia is deeply entwined with the birth of the Spanish nation. Here Isabella I was proclaimed Queen of Castille and León in 1474. Her marriage to Ferdinand II of Aragon united the core of what became the Spanish nation, a feat that was cemented by their conquest of the Moors in Granada at the end of 1491. Isabella brought public order and effective reform to her kingdom. One day a week the monarchs made themselves available to hear the problems and complaints of their people.

The Alcazar, where Isabella was proclaimed queen

Ceilings in the Alcazar are a marvel...

... and doors across the entire country are works of art.

A store's window display in Segovia

Legend is that when Columbus approached the Royal Eminences in the throne room of the newly-conquered Alhambra, Ferdinand laughed at the notion that the Earth was round. But Isabella gave Columbus her jewels to finance his voyage.

Their union fused two major dialects as well, and gave birth to the Castillian Spanish that is spoken today. (Many years ago, I studied the origins of Spanish as part of being a Spainish major. We read the Spanish classics––Don Quixote, Don Juan and La Celestina––in their original form, rather like reading Chaucer in Old English.)

Segovia's golden age came in the late Middle Ages, when the Jewish population took learning and commerce to new heights. (All that came to an end with the Spanish Inquisition, when harsh treatment of the Jews was initiated by Ferdinand and the friar Torquemada.)

This street sign marks the old Jewish quarter of Segovia.

The city's fortunes may have waxed and waned, but one constant has likely been the swifts that swoop overhead, feasting on airborne insects. Hundreds of Common Swifts still nest in the aqueduct's nooks and in various crannies across the old city.

And, to top it all off, Segovia and Tucson are sister cities!

But can you imagine approaching Tucson in summer as a Conquistador, wearing that?!

Village Storks

If you drive the back roads (and even not-so-back roads) in Spain during the nesting season, you'll still find the iconic village storks, their immense stick nests decorating church steeples and farm houses. These are White Storks, and they have nested in small Spanish villages for as long as there have been villages––and probably since the ice relinquished its grip on Europe!  Twenty-five-million-year-old fossils from either a White or Black Stork have been found in Kenya. Their lineage is ancient.

White Storks (Ciconia ciconia) nest atop a church's bell tower. 

(Photos by Narca)

Chicks are well cared for. Adults were reported by Lefebvre, Nicolakakis and Boire to deliver water to their young by squeezing moss, thereby dripping water into the beaks of their chicks––an example of tool use.

Juvenile White Storks

The enormous nests often turn into apartment houses: smaller birds like House Sparrows and even European Rollers will claim a nook of the nest for themselves.

With a wingspan up to 8 feet across, these huge, heavy birds depend on thermals to carry them on their long-distance migrations. If you were able to fly south with the migrating storks, you might end up on the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania, striding amongst the Wildebeest and towering over thousands of Thomson's Gazelles.

An adult White Stork, dignified and stately

In the Iberian Peninsula, an estimated 40,000 pairs are considered to be secure, although they have suffered some declines due in part to changes in agricultural practices. Elsewhere, storks have declined in many regions. Conservation and reintroduction efforts in Europe are returning storks to former strongholds like the Rhine River Valley, where their population had declined to the point of vanishing. Perhaps a quarter of the world population nests in Poland. Other very strong centers for breeding White Storks are the Ukraine and Lithuania.