Six thousand steps, with songbirds

 In an attempt to do something about the lamentable state of my 71-year-old body I recently acquired one of those "smart watches" that nags you to do regular exercise. I now go for a brisk walk most mornings, with a target of 6,000 steps (I know they say you should aim for 10,000 but you have to start somewhere).  

Fortunately Alcalá has plenty of hills and dales to get the circulation going. My favourite route is across the valley opposite my house, saying good morning to the horses and mules that graze there, past the ancient wells on Los Pozos, and along the (almost traffic-free) road which leads into the Parque Natural los Alcornocales. 

View of Alcalá from the Patriste road.

While many people who indulge in this activity plug their ears in order to listen to music or a podcast, I remain unplugged so I can enjoy the song of the numerous birds that line this route.  Although I am useless at identifying most of them by sight as they flit in and out of the trees and bushes, thanks to the wonderful Merlin Bird ID app I can whip at my phone and ID them by their song.  In the last month I have built up quite a list: robin, song-thrush, stonechat, great tit, siskin, chaffinch, goldfinch, chiffchaff, Sardinian warbler, and even the tiny firecrest.  

Firecrest - heard but sadly not seen

At this time of year the most prolific songster is the Eurasian blackcap.  Yesterday their melodious warbling accompanied me for about 2 km along the lane, on all sides - there must have been hundreds of them.  

Last week the griffon vultures were on the move and about fifty of them flew over my head, so low that I could hear the beat of their wings.  They nest during the winter months in the crags further up the valley, and take flight once the air warms up and they can use the thermals to gain height.  Some people find such close contact with these magnificent creatures intimidating, but they still give me a thrill even after all these years. Back in 2010 I wrote a blog post about them, including details of one that lost its way and landed in the Calle Real back in the 1940s - Vulture Culture.