Sunday, November 3, 2024

2024-11

4 November 2024

Yesterday morning, I walked by the side of the Kinneret and around one of the small harbours in Tiberias. It was a hot sultry morning; thundery too, and I had the place totally to myself aside from a few mad dogs. During my walk, I played a bit of cat and mouse with a young night heron, a large grey heron, a little egret, a pygmy cormorant and a white-throated kingfisher. They all thought it was great fun to fly off as soon as I raised my camera, but eventually they realised I was a harmless old Brit and allowed me to get a quick shot.

After I’d been walking for a while I encountered two mounted bobbies (if you’re not British, you’d probably call them policemen on horseback). One of them spoke to me in reasonably good English. I asked him how he knew I spoke the language – I thought that after ten years here, I was beginning to look and sound like an Israeli, but obviously not. This policeman had presumably been to the Sherlock School for Detectives or more probably was Mossad trained – but either way, he was able to tell that a fellow walking in the hot sun, with a sunhat and a camera would speak the King’s English. I had thought they were checking that the beaches were empty – at the moment, because of the threat of rockets from the North and the East all beaches around the Kinneret are closed – so, I told him that I was photographing birds, just in case he thought I was about to do a bit of sunbathing, or paddle in the lake. Then I asked him what they were doing today. He told me that on Shabbat/Saturday afternoon a kayaker had gone missing just 20 metres from the shore where we were speaking. The bobbies were still out looking for him, and so were police boats patrolling the lake nearby. Sadly, lots of people underestimate the power of the Kinneret, which though not as fierce as Rembrandt depicts in his famous painting, ‘The Storm on the Sea of Galilee’, nevertheless claims several lives each year. There are very strong, hidden currents in this freshwater lake, which has the Jordan River running right through it, and swimming, boating or canoeing on it must never be considered lightly.







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3 November 2024

Just a week or two ago we had a lovely walk by the River Alexander (near Netanya) with Debra and Aaron. As I was looking at a pecan tree and admiring the gigantic hard-shell nuts, and muttering to myself “hickory dickory dock” a gigantic soft-shell turtle emerged from the river and glared at me, presumably thinking I was a nut case.  After I’d finished photographing the pecan nuts and tree, which by the way, is a member of the hickory family of trees, I was able to photograph the turtle, while it was still looking somewhat baffled.

A day or two later as we left home to start another trip to Netanya, we heard a lot of honking and looked up for our first sighting this autumn of a skein of cranes (about a hundred or so). Feeling it was a lucky day, when we arrived, I took my trusty camera out for a walk hoping to see more exotic birds, and sure enough I did. The birds I found were very colourful flightless birds – birds of paradise, also known as crane flowers, which are native to South Africa. To adequately describe their magnificent beauty would need at least two thousand words – and as time is short, I’ve included two pictures, instead. And there’s also a photo of the tiny pea blue butterfly, which I saw in the woods that day. As you can see, despite its name, peas aren’t usually this colour.

On the way home I bought some pecan nuts and am looking forward to a slice of pecan pie.








Tuesday, October 1, 2024

2024-10

29th October 2024

I’ve just been reading two of my favourite books – The Curious Bird Lover’s Handbook by Niall Edworthy and The Penguin Dictionary of Curious and Interesting Numbers by David Wells. I’m not quite sure whether the bird book is a handbook for bird lovers who are curious or for lovers of curious birds – but either way, the book is right up my street. And yesterday I discovered a couple of interesting and curious facts. Birds don’t produce urine. And that is true for all birds, except for, curiously, storks and vultures, which do produce a sort of urine. And even more curiously, they use this ‘urine’ on a very hot day, such as those we have here in Israel at this time of year, to cool themselves down. They release the ‘urine’ on their own bodies and as it evaporates it cools them down. This technique, known as urohidrosis – a word that doesn’t appear in my dictionary – is also used by some basking seals, I guess if they’re far too lazy to get back in the water. Here’s some serious advice for you – if you’re out and about on a very hot day in Israel or elsewhere, and you need to cool yourself down – well, head straight for an airconditioned café and have an ice-cream or iced coffee – don’t even think about any such outlandish hydrotherapy!

In my opinion, the most interesting number of all, is the first number that isn’t considered by mathematicians to be interesting. In this book that number is 39, which is recorded in the book as being interesting for being uninteresting. Here is a curious fact – the golden ratio, known also as the divine proportion, 1.61803…., when squared is 2.61803…. This is the only positive number whose square is exactly 1 more than the number itself. Even more curiously this number, the golden ratio, 1.61803…. appears in nature, most notably in the spiral pattern of sunflower seeds. The angle between successive seeds in its head is approximately the golden angle (about 137.5 degrees), which is derived from the golden ratio.

I should probably get out more, rather than immersing myself in such curious books.


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9th October 2024

Sitting Ducks

We visited one of Israel’s best-known nature reserves recently (I have been asked not to say which one) and met the Chief Ranger. I asked if there was anything interesting to see and was told that on that very morning the rangers had rescued some ducklings. A visitor had released into the wild some young birds that appeared to have previously been kept in a domestic environment. Releasing young ducks without their mother to look after them usually results in a very quick death. And indeed, the crows in the reserve were already eyeing them up when the rangers spotted them. The birds, instead of fleeing, which is what most wild birds do when seeing people, waddled affectionately towards the rangers, which is what gave the game away as to their former domesticity. The rangers gathered them up and temporarily caged them while awaiting a visit from the vet to check their health. The Chief Ranger is now looking for a suitable home for them where they will be able to live unthreatened by foxes, jackals or birds of prey.

“Releasing creatures into the wild sounds such an ethical thing to do,” we were told, “but it actually causes a whole lot of unnecessary suffering for them, as they are totally ill-equipped to fend for themselves or stay out of danger from predators.”

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1st October 2024

We’ve just had a couple of weeks of running to and from the bomb shelters in Tiberias, dodging rockets and missiles fired at us by Hezbollah and other terrorist groups. As well as our own shelter at home, we’ve been in a shelter at our local supermarket, one at the doctor’s clinic and had to endure one attack taking cover in a ditch by the side of an Inter-City highway. We’re now in Jerusalem for a few days for Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) – and hoping for a quieter time.

One of my favourite Jerusalem activities is gazelle gazing in Gazelle Velley. Yesterday, I got to meet a rather handsome buck with beautifully ringed horns. The males use their horns to display their virility to potential mates, and also for foraging for food and to fend off predators. But why are their horns ringed? I’m really not sure, so I’ll be doing some research as there must be a good reason.

While I was focussing on gazelles Miriam spotted a flycatcher sitting on the fence – a spotted flycatcher, no less. Flycatchers make little sorties, known as sallies, to catch flies and then return to the same place from where they set off. This sallying, also known as hawking, is also particularly noticeable with dragonflies and so keeping the camera lens trained on the same place, even after they’ve gone off, is well worthwhile.

I also watched a pair of spur-winged plovers by the side of a small pond. Plover is pronounced to rhyme with lover and not with over. As you can see, the two birds I photographed had just had a plover’s tiff and weren’t talking to each other.

The blackbird I photographed, looking a bit shabby, hadn’t lost his feathers in a scrap, but had lost a few head feathers to make way for new ones – a process known as moulting, which birds do once or twice a year to renew the strength of their plumage.

A leopard doesn’t change its spots, but let’s hope and pray that our neighbours will grow new feathers, as birds do, and will live together peaceably with us in the New Year – a better year than the last, with the safe return of our hostages who’ve been held in captivity for almost a full twelve months.






Sunday, September 1, 2024

2024-09

26th September 2024

There was a lot of aerial activity above us on Tuesday.  From the safety of a town centre café, I watched as the iron dome intercepted Hezbollah missiles aimed at Tiberias.  And yesterday morning there was more unwelcome action - a rocket coming towards us from Syria was taken out by the IDF, while we spent ten minutes in the air raid shelter becoming better acquainted with our neighbours. Not to be deterred, we drove South along the Jordan Valley to a well-known birding location, Kfar Rupin, from where there are great views over the river-valley and beyond into Jordan. En-route we saw aerial activity of the sort that we delight in. Storks were circling high above, accompanied by raptors riding the thermals. We sat in a bird hide at Kfar Rupin, looking out over a very small lake - perhaps pond or mere, or mere puddle, would be more accurate names for it. The birds there seem to understand bird hide as an instruction to them, and they remained out of sight for a long time. But after half an hour or so we watched a white-throated kingfisher fly past, as well as some bulbuls, while damsel flies and dragon flies vied with each other for the best resting places on lakeside rushes. A black kite looked down on us from a great height, while swallows skimmed over the lake virtually touching it from time to time, while we were drinking in the peace and quiet, disturbed only by the breeze rustling the reeds. Actually swallows do touch the water surface when they fly over it, and while doing so, drink in a quick beakful of water. I didn't manage to photograph the birds, but the insects and the splendid palm trees were more amenable to a photo shoot.

As we walked along the shadeless path to a further lookout, atop a knoll bearing the name Karpas Hill, I wondered to myself, “Are palm trees really trees?” Their shape and structure are so different from the normal branching varieties we are so used to. Experts are divided in opinion – some say date palms are trees, while others say they are woody herbs. We happened to pass a chaste tree (aka monk's pepper), which I have to say I thought at first was a rosemary bush – as you can see from the photo. But it’s the wrong time of the year for rosemary, so with a bit of research (with Google Lens) I quickly discovered its true identity. It’s presumably called chaste, because apparently mediaeval monks used to eat its berries (chasteberries) to reduce their sexual desire. Not quite sure why it’s also called monk’s pepper – as some people say that pepper is an aphrodisiac, which doesn’t seem to go together with calming their impulses.

Before finishing this blog post, I can’t pass over the opportunity to tell you that from Karpas Hill there are great views in spring of parsley, potato and celery growing in the fields below J





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25th September 2024

Earlier this week, we walked by the Alexander River near Netanya. It’s been a good few weeks since Miriam and I and my camera went for a good country walk. During those few weeks I was recovering from a bout of shingles – which, as shingles goes, was quite a mild bout, and the pain wasn’t too intense - but I was very tired and didn’t really have enough energy to exercise my telephoto lens. Fortunately, I feel much better now, and what better way to return to nature than a walk by this beautiful river just a mile or two from the Mediterranean coast.

The Alexander River is most noted for the African softback turtles that frequent its waters. And we weren’t disappointed, as we watched these large (50kg) turtles gracefully swim by and occasionally poke their heads out of the water, basking while gliding along. At the riverbank was a much smaller Caspian turtle (with a hardback shell), basking in the warm sun. There were swallows swooping, rock-martins chattering, parakeets screeching past at speed, and glossy ibises flying overhead, as well as a hovering kestrel that dived down into the grass. As we walked downstream, we saw a large grey heron waiting patiently at the riverside, but it wasn’t that patient and before long flew up to a high tree overlooking the river to gain a bird’s eye view of the fish below. But the highlight of the walk for me, was to see two rather small birds - a red-backed shrike and a wheatear.

Shrikes have bit of a monstrous reputation, which is actually well-deserved. They’re known as butcher birds, because after killing their prey (small mammals) they hang it up to dry on barbed wire, much as butchers do with their carcasses. Anyway, barbaric butcherers they maybe, but they’re rather nice to look at – the one who posed for me was a juvenile, who probably didn’t have too much blood on his hands yet.

Wheatears have an interesting name – but nothing to do with wheat, ears or even ears of wheat. Rather, they get their name from their white rear. They’re little birds that catch flies as they fly – they’re part of the flycatcher family of birds.

The evening before our river walk, we went out for a coffee in a local shopping mall. As we came out, we found a dead bird that appeared to have dropped out of the sky. It was still perfectly formed, and had one wing extended to reveal clearly the beautiful variegated colours of its plumage. Google lens identified it as a common quail, though it looked too attractive to be called common anything. Of course, quail have long been found in these parts – these are the birds that dropped out of the sky and sustained the Children of Israel during their for forty years in the desert as they journeyed, more than three thousand years ago, from Egypt to Israel.  




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3rd September 2024

Some of the most colourful and remarkable little creatures we see are common chameleons. Last week we were walking in woods with our grandchildren and our little granddaughter spotted a tiny little lizard. On closer examination it turned out to be a very small chameleon, about two inches long. She did well to spot it - as well as being tiny it was well-camouflaged - she's got a good eye. And so does the chameleon. In fact, quite remarkably, it can have one of its eyes looking forward and one backwards. There's a photo of mine on Wikipedia showing a backward-looking chameleon - see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_chameleon and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_chameleon#/media/File:Chameleon-LookingBack.jpg. The chameleon has a remarkable tongue too, it’s about one and a half times its own body length. No wonder it gets tongue-tied. But of course, the chameleon is most well-known for its ability to change colour. What is less well-known is that primarily its colour changes are related to its emotions rather than to match its background.

The little chameleon chappie we saw was quite a comedian, as you can see from the video clip. It was barely bigger than a newly hatched infant. They emerge from their eggs some 10 to 12 months after they are laid. And then take a further year or so to reach full size – about 8 to 16 inches.

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 1st September 2024

I keep hearing reports that the migration season has started. Cranes, storks and honey buzzards have been spotted overhead – but not yet by me. I’m keeping my eyes trained on the skies and hope to be able to tell you soon of some successful sightings. But for the moment, I must be content with what I see at ground level.

A couple of weeks ago at Ramat Hanadiv I noticed a hoopoe hopping around an olive grove. I approached trying to hide behind trees to stay out of view. I was rewarded for my game of hoopoe hide and seek with a view of the male hoopoe’s headdress – a fully erect crest – a feather crown. It displays its crown majestically as a mating sign, to show its virility and also when it feels threatened, perhaps to indicate its size and strength.

A few seconds later it fanned its tail and prepared itself for a dust bath or an ant bath. A bird will roll its feathers across dust (dust bathing) as a way of secreting its preening oil to keep its wings well-lubricated and in good shape. Or it will rub its feathers on ants to obtain formic acid from them, which likewise is beneficial to its wings.

As you can see my hoopoe hunting was a happy experience with photos of a hoopoe anting, or perhaps just getting a dusting down.





Tuesday, August 6, 2024

2024-08

28th August 2024

Last week I wrote about van Gogh’s dull rendition of the vividly coloured kingfisher. Famous as van Gogh is, his painting isn’t the most famous bird painting. That accolade probably goes to Carel Fabritius’ painting, ‘The Goldfinch’. Its colours too, are not quite as bright as in real life – but Fabritus’ poor bird was probably feeling dull and miserable, tethered as it was by its foot on a short chain. There has been a long history of capturing goldfinches and keeping them caged, as songbirds – so beautiful is their singing.

Thomas Hardy, in his poem, ‘The Caged Goldfinch’ wrote:
Within a churchyard, on a recent grave,
I saw a little cage
That jailed a goldfinch. All was silence save
Its hops from stage to stage.

Leonardi da Vinci had an interesting theory about the goldfinch’s ability to spot a dying man – he wrote:

The goldfinch is a bird of which it is related that, when it is carried into the presence of a sick person, if the sick man is going to die, the bird turns away its head and never looks at him; but if the sick man is to be saved, the bird never loses sight of him but is the cause of curing him of all his sickness.

As you can see from my photo, the goldfinch I photographed is certainly not tethered, but it wouldn’t look at me. Luckily, I wasn’t sick at the time, and perhaps it had looked at me when I wasn’t looking. Since goldfinches often travel in small flocks, it may have left the looking at me to one of its brother birds.

Fabritus’ goldfinch does seem to be looking at him, but sadly, poor Fabritus died soon after – tragically young, just 32-years-old. He died in a horrible fire in Delft, Holland, that took another hundred people along with him and many of his art masterpieces.


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27th August 2024

Despite what one might think, Lotus Biscuits are not made from lotus flowers. But they are made from completely natural ingredients – no artificial flavours, colouring or preservatives. This doesn’t mean they’re a health food, though in my humble opinion they should be considered so. The effort involved in getting a biscuit out of its cellophane (each ever-so-small biscuit is individually wrapped) quite probably burns up more calories than are gained by eating one. What do other lotus-eaters or Lotos-eaters think?

One of the joys of Jerusalem is to sit in the café outside the Botanical Gardens on an August day just enjoying coffee and biscuits, looking at the crowded lotus flowers in the rather large pond. The lotus flowers are quite remarkably beautiful – though their colouring reminds me more of Neapolitan ice-cream than biscuits. Their seed-heads make me think I’m looking at a watering-can sprinkler or a showerhead. Indeed, a sparrow was perched on one looking hopeful that water would emerge. Their roots are used in various cuisines including salads, but I think I’ll stick with the biscuits or better still, the Neapolitan ice-cream.

Not far from the lotus plants were some paper reeds (Cyperus papyrus) perennial swamp plants that were used in days gone by as a source for papyrus paper, and it is thought that this provided the material for Moses’ reed basket when, to save his life, he was left to float in the Nile. As well as seeing paper reeds in the Botanical Gardens we see lots and lots of them at the Hula Valley, happily growing in the swamps. You could write a book on them.




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21st August 2024

Vincent van Gogh’s ‘Kingfisher by the Waterside’, which he painted in 1886, depicts the bird’s plumage considerably duller than in real life.

While in English tradition we recognise the bird’s majestic appearance and top-notch fishing ability and afford it the literary title ‘The Fisher King’ or more recently simply the ‘kingfisher’, this is not so in other languages. In van Gogh’s Dutch, the kingfisher would be the ‘ijsvogel’, literally ‘ice bird’ and in French it is ‘le martin-pêcheur d'Europe’, literally the ‘European swift fisher’ (a bird of the swift family that feeds on fish).

It’s hard to be critical of the king of painters, but to me it seems that van Gogh hadn’t ever seen a live kingfisher.

After a little Google research (which, I understand was not possible for van Gogh) and a trip this week to Jerusalem's Natural History Museum, I think I understand why van Gogh's kingfisher was so dull-feathered. Amongst the hundreds of exhibits at the museum was a long-dead common kingfisher that looked decidedly jaded. And guess what, van Gogh used a taxidermized bird as his model.

As well as van Gogh’s painting I’ve included my photos of the taxidermized bird at the Natural History Museum and two of my favourite kingfishers that I photographed in Tel Aviv showing the vivid colouring of the common kingfisher when alive and flapping.




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11th August 2024

July and August are not the best time for nature observers to be out and about in Israel. Most of the flowers have long since died and the birds and animals find the climate here a little warm, so stay at home in front of the TV enjoying the AC. Undeterred, Miriam and I had a short outing recently at Ein Afek near Haifa.

We saw a beautiful purple flower, the Salt-marsh Morning Glory (Ipomoea sagittate), a bindweed native to Southern USA and Mexico. It has been introduced to the Mediterranean region and in Israel is found only in a few Northern coastal regions including Ein Afek.

And I thought I had hit lucky when I spotted a little bittern. I have never seen a bittern before, which is a member of the heron family. In Great Britain the great bittern is not seen very often and is classified as a threatened species. The little bittern (which sounds a bit like a comedy TV show) is also rarely seen in Britain. Likewise, in Israel they are not so frequently encountered either. I was particularly interested to find a bittern, which in the mating season (not now, but in the spring) has a booming call, which can be heard from two to three miles away. Anyway, twice shy, once bittern. So, I sent my not very good photo (shot from too far away) to a local bird expert to see if I’d really had a lucky spot – but she confirmed my suspicion, that this bird was actually a similar-looking, not-so-unusual squacco heron.

High in the sky above us we heard the squawk of a spur-winged plover busy buzzing a buzzard. Plovers can be quite aggressive towards other birds if they feel their chicks are threatened. They will use the spurs on their wings as an offensive weapon towards those who offend them - they've even been known to attack people who approach too close to their nests. When we got home, I discovered (from my rather poor long-distance photo) that it wasn't a buzzard that was being buzzed, but a black-winged kite. [A few days later, Miriam and I were at Kibbutz Lavi and watched two male plovers sparring - spurs at the ready. As I inched towards them hoping to get a shot, they shot off, no doubt to resume their stand-off somewhere less in the public (camera) eye.]

Half an hour later, back at Ein Afek, I saw a snake, before it snaked away at speed like a cracked whip. I saw it for just about a quarter of a second and then it dived into the lake – I hope it was a good swimmer and that there wasn’t a skulking mongoose waiting for it. It all happened so quickly that I can’t be sure what sort of snake it was – but I suspect it was a black whip snake, which grows to be about 8-foot from head to tail.

It wasn’t a great day for bird photos but there was a rather lovely red dragon fly by the pond and butterflies, unperturbed by the high temperatures, were quite happily out in the midday sun. There were scores of plain tiger butterflies, which are not at all aggressive, despite what their name might suggest. Belonging to the monarch family, they're really quite regal and one of them majestically posed for a royal photoshoot.



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6th August 2024

As regular readers know, I love to spend time at the froggery at nearby Kibbutz Lavi. Last week, I crept up close to a friendly frog who looked at me with its big eyes before hopping off. Believe it or not frogs can leap 10 to 20 times their body length. There is no doubt that if frogs were taking part in the Olympics, they would outjump all the athletes – and the frog anthem would be heard constantly croaking through the Stade de France.

The frog’s eyes aren’t just big – they’re bulging and quite prominent. This allows them to see to the sides and a little bit behind, as well as what’s in front of them. And when they eat, they use their eyes to push food down the throat. But whether their eyes are bigger than their stomachs – I haven’t the froggiest.

While I was chatting to the frog, Miriam was chatting to Mr Eli Levin - Lavi born and bred - whose family dedicated a garden and pond to the memory of their son, Gal, who died tragically young. It is this beautiful and peaceful location that my little froggy friend and its froggy pals like to hang out in. I’m sure they much appreciate Eli’s efforts in maintaining the pond and garden, as much as do all the other visitors.