Although I'd seen Lesser Kestrels in Spain in the 1970s and once again in the 1990s on Cyprus, it wasn't until I started to visit Spain regularly after 2002 that I got to know them. This process accelerated after buying a small house in Alcla de los Gazules a few years later as the village has a thriving population of this charismatic species. This is good news since the species' conservation status was, until recently, classed as 'Vulnerable'. Not surprising since they'd undergone a massive decline in western Europe – a depressing 95% since 1950 leading to extinctions in central Europe (e.g. Czech Republic, Austria, etc.). Those birds further east were declining too but figures for the Asian population are hard to come by. Texts now describe Lesser Kestrel as 'monotypic' meaning that there are no different races, but interestingly eastern males (previously called 'pekinensis') have much more grey on the upper wing (see - http://birdingfrontiers.com/2013/02/12/taxonomical-notes-lesser-kestrel-is-really-monotypic/ ). Surprisingly, despite resembling 'Common' Kestrel, DNA studies have indicated that they're actually not very closely related species (see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lesser_Kestrel )    The species decline was probably mainly a result of pesticide poisoning and a loss of habitat, but nobody knows for certain.  

Happily, the decline seems to have reversed in recent years with increases reported from, amongst other countries, Portugal and Italy. In both countries an increase in suitable nesting sites has been cited as the cause of the increase; specially constructed 'kestrel towers' in the first instance and an increase in ruined buildings, caused by rural depopulation, in the second. Up to 42,000 birds are reckoned to breed in western Europe (and north Africa) with half or more of these breeding in Spain where the population now seems to be stable or increasing. In Andalucia alone the population has risen from c2,100 pairs (1988) to c4,800 pairs (2009). They're now no longer classed as in danger but as species of 'Least Concern' (see http://www.terredelmediterraneo.org/action_plan.htm for the species' 'action plan'). They were once exclusively cliff nesters and still are at some sites (e.g. Llanos de Libar). However, they're now almost exclusively found nesting in human habitations so that almost every small and many larger settlements in in central and southern Spain has a colony. The species is so associated with Spain that the Collins Bird Guide illustrates them flying round the giralda of Seville's cathedral (the only building depicted in that book!).  

A few birds winter in a restricted area in SW Spain and north Africa (see map). On my one visit to Alcala in mid-winter I saw, and intermittently at that, only a handful coming into roost in the evening suggesting only a tiny % of the local population winter here (>5%?). They do start arriving early, though, with the first few migrants appearing in the south in late January (most likely from north, rather than sub-saharan, Africa). Numbers crossing the straits peak in the second half of March, but in Alcala they're around in force by mid-February. Eggs are incubated for about 28 days and fledging continues for another 28 days. My main reference (BWP p288) suggests that egg laying is mainly in May, with a few early clutches in April and late ones in June. This seems surprisingly late as birds are certainly actively investigating nest holes next to our place in late February and come mid-April (when next we tend to be there) females seem to be sitting fairly 'tight'. After the young have fledged come August most birds have dispersed into the surrounding countryside and comparatively few return to roost in the village. The bulk of birds head south during the latter half of September and by November almost all have gone.  In winter they are even more sociable with some roosts numbering thousands of birds with the record being held by a roost of an amazing 28,600 birds found in Senegal in January 2007! (See http://www.birdlife.org/datazone/speciesfactsheet.php?id=3589 )

Four or five pairs breed in the old bastion, part of the ancient town walls, next to the house and on warm spring evening it's not unusual to see 30 or 40 birds over our house and in excess of a hundred over the whole village. Indeed I usually get 100+ at least once over our terrace at that time although 50-60 is more often the maximum. I've never made a serious attempt to estimate the population, but given a majority of the birds that swarm over the village in spring are males – the females do most of the incubation – I'd guess that there must be at least 70 pairs and probably many more.  This would make it one of the larger colonies in Spain. It's certainly one of the best places to see the species there, but don't just take my word for it – this was the opinion of two car loads of Spanish birders who rolled up outside our house one year. Actually, they got it a little wrong as they claimed the roadside outside our house was the best place when, in reality, it's sitting on our terrace supping cool beer in the shade!

Watching from the terrace I often get to see what prey the birds bring in – mainly crickets and centipedes with the odd shrew or mouse. Detailed studies have found that in Spain well over 90% of food items are invertebrates with grasshoppers & crickets making up over 60% and beetles over 20%, but only 4% vertebrates (mostly small mammals). However, by weight vertebrates made up over a third of their prey. Birds in Alcala seem to particularly like large yellow and black centipedes (although only as 1% of recorded prey). Elsewhere mole crickets are important prey items and there are certainly plenty in the Alcala area.  

An adult male Lesser Kestrel is, given a half decent view, fairly easy to tell from its common cousin. Apart from the pale throat, the whole head is a clean pale bluish-grey with only a hint of a shadow where Commons have their dark moustache. The back is unmarked warm chestnut as are the lesser and median wing coverts whilst the greater coverts are pale grey (often sullied with chestnut) forming a grey panel on the closed wing. Below the chest and belly are a gorgeous pale peachy buff with only few large dark roundish dots along the flanks. This sounds more complex than it really is and my non-birding wife simply sums it up with the comment that “They're just prettier and sweeter looking than ordinary kestrels”! From below, as they fly overhead, the obvious feature of the males are the whitish almost unmarked underwing set off by duskier wingtips and rear edge to the wings. Extended central tail feathers (like a juvenile skua!) are good indication, but not 100% diagnostic. The pale grey panel on the wing on adult males is diagnostic, but, as noted above, in some birds it can be quite sullied with brownish tones making it hard to see, even with binoculars, much above 40m unless the light is exceptionally good. Females and immatures are much harder and closely resemble Common Kestrel. Famously the pale whitish claws (its commoner cousins have black ones) is often held up as the ID feature, bit if you're that close you should already have noted the paler cheek, less well marked 'moustache' and, above all, that the wings just about reach the thick dark terminal band on the tail (in Common Kestrel they fall well short). The wings (in both sexes) are rounder sometimes giving them a slight resemblance to Sparrowhawk, but flight identification of females/immatures is more tricky and generally needs favourable conditions. The calls are distinctive (see http://www.xeno-canto.org/species/Falco-naumanni and below). For more about identification see - http://www.andaluciabirdsociety.org/article-library/comparative-fieldguide/90-comparative-identification-guide-1.html and the slide show that follows: 

All of the above is fine (I hope!) as far as it goes, but none of it conveys the species' essence as they cavort in the skies above their colony. They exhibit a wonderful chattering joie de vivre which sounds just like infant children in the playground. Heard in isolation the trisyllabic “tchie-tchie-tchie” call can sound a little querulous, but uttered in chorus, as it often is, as the birds swirl about their village colonies its a wonderful life affirming sound (see http://www.xeno-canto.org/149085).  And swirling round the colonies in the evenings is a favourite pastime. As they race about, chattering as they go, it is hard not think, perhaps too anthropomorphically, that they're just like small children playing chase in a school playground. Like children they do like to play tag! Common Kestrels only hover when they're intent on catching food, but male Lessers seem to do it just for the hell of it or perhaps, more probably, as a way of saying to potential mates 'Aren't I good, see what I can do!” They certainly have no intention of catching food as they never stoop and frequently hover above an unlikely feeding ground. Playful as ever as one bird hovers, a rival male frequently stoops on them to spoil the show, both birds tumble groundwards before chasing one another, helter-skelter, across the sky. Like many colonial birds, they vocally warn the colony of danger and mob any threats. Larger birds of prey (Griffon and Egyptian Vultures, Buzzards, Booted and Short-toed Eagles) tend to be entirely ignored/ I'm told that, elsewhere, Common Kestrels are ignored too, but here I've seen them get quite a hammering from outraged Lessers. Sparrowhawks always get energetically escorted off the premises, but for mayhem laced with sheer terror nothing beats the reception given to Goshawk. When a young Gos 'bounced' the Lessers one morning some years ago every bird in the vicinity gave it a very raucous reception and vigorously chased it off – albeit at a respectful distance. I've yet to see any interaction with the local Peregrines which always seem to keep out of range, perhaps they know the sort of welcome they'd get!  

So, if I had to name one bird that, for me, sums up the joys of visiting southern Spain it would be Lesser Kestrel. Other birds are more exotic (Flamingo), more colourful (Bee-eater) or more uniquely Iberian (Azure-winged Magpie), but only Lesser Kestrel has chosen to live amongst us cheek-by-jowl. Living with us in towns and villages obviously suits Lesser Kestrel since the great majority of birds now do so. I'm not sure whether anyone's seriously investigated why this is so, but I'd guess it a mixture of factors – plenty of nesting sites (under eaves, in crumbling walls, etc), relative safety (as long as humans were friendly!) and access to convenient nesting sites near feeding grounds (open grasslands). Living in large colonies they're a gregarious, noisy and, at risk of sounding too anthropomorphic, playful species which makes them all the more interesting to watch.  No wonder they're one of my favourite birds! 

The marshes along Guadalquivir are about an hour's drive from my base in Alcala so, with so many closer sites to visit, it's not a site I get to as often as I'd like. Hence it's somewhere that I feel I could know better. Also, arriving from the direction of Sanlucar, as I often do, it's very easy to find yourself spending so much time birding familiar sites like Bonanza, Laguna de Tarelo and Algaida pines/salinas that you have little time for exploration. Even if you approach from Trebujena via Jerez, it's difficult to avoid spending too much time watching Mesas de Asta marshes en route. Worse, both routes pass perilously close to IKEA and other shops that threaten to distract your non-birding companion. So you again find yourself with less time than you expect.  

Arriving from Sanlucar, even if you manage to escape from the Bonanza and Algaida, there's still plenty to distract you as you drive along the south bank of the Guadalquivir (a). The embanked road certainly allows good views across Trebujena marshes to the south whilst to the north pools between the road and the river can attract large numbers of Spoonbills, Flamingos, waders and ducks. After a while the metalled road swings away from the river although if brave, or perhaps foolhardy, you can continue along the track beside the river (b) all the way to Seňuela and ultimately to Brazo del Este. Last time I tried, the track degenerated into a badly rutted mess and I found myself forced to risk plunging into puddles of unknown depths to make progress. In fact progress was so slow that it would have been quicker to take the longer route via Trebujena and Lebrija.  the drive along the Gudalquivir is certainly a pleasant one and the chapel at La Senuela with its twenty plus White Stork nests is a picturesque sight. The pools as you turn towards Trebujena (c) are worth a quick look too; nothing too special, perhaps, but often close views of stilts and various herons.

Far too many times at this point as I headed off towards Trebujena, I had a good coffee in the village more in mind that more birding. Even so I confess that I'm somewhat puzzled as to why it took me quite so long to explore the track (d) that runs across marshes from near the large cortijo on the Trebujena road. As I've already observed I tend to get to the area late in the day with less time to explore and, more importantly, when I fear I'm trespassing too much on my wife's good will. I'd also tended to assume it was a camino particular (private road). Certainly, the recent appearance of a sign suggesting it was a public road helped my resolve to check it out as did seeing others parked along it and foraging along the verges. Whatever the reason, it wasn't until spring 2013 that I headed off the metalled road and along this track.   

The track, obviously, gives a different angle on the vast open marshes to the right although without the greater elevation enjoyed from the road along the Guadalquivir (perhaps another reason for my sluggish exploration). However, it certainly allows you to feel you're getting a closer view of the marshes. I've not driven the track in late summer when the marshes are often barren and dry, but in spring, particularly after a wet winter, the place is transformed. Larks, usually Crested or Short-toed, flip busily across the road as Spanish Yellow Wagtails watch from the fence. Further off a good mix of raptors – both Black and Red Kites, Marsh and Montagu's Harriers, Booted Eagles and Kestrel (Common & Lesser) – share the skies with swooping Pratincoles. Below White Storks dot the marsh, but look out too for passing Black Stork or even late Cranes that sometimes rest here The ditch on the right of the track is regularly patrolled by hunting Whiskered or Gull-billed Tern giving you great opportunities for photography particularly since you can pull over without worrying about traffic – there isn't any!  

After a couple of kilometres further along the track swings to the left and soon thereafter you reach an area which, when I first visited in 2013 was flooded with two large, but shallow pools either side of the track (e). The deep ditches here held several Squacco and Night Herons which obligingly perched on fence posts as we passed. The banks here were a blaze of yellow, purple and white flowers. The wetter marshes concealed Black-winged Stilt, Greenshanks and a handful of smaller waders. A week later the marshes had dried out considerably and what had been water was now glutinous mud. But this mud was covered with hundreds of Dunlins and a few Little Stint and the odd Curlew Sandpiper. Returning to the main road it's always worth checking the rough grazing just across the road (f) which often has Golden Plover in winter and Pratincoles in the summer.

Definitely a place worth exploring!

Marbled Teal (or Marbled Duck if you prefer) was one of my target birds when I first started to visit SW Spain regularly. Leaving aside odd records from elsewhere in southern Europe and a population in Armenia and Azerbaijan, as a breeding species it is restricted to Spain (and almost exclusively to Anadalucia and, to a lesser degree, Valencia). It's an odd dabbling duck in which, unusually, the sexes are very similar and which lacks a speculum (a colourful band on the secondaries). They seem to like shallow pools with much fringing and submerged vegetation. They usually nest on the ground near bushes or in thick vegetation, but, remarkably, in Spain they sometimes on the thatched roofs of reed huts!   

Its history is one of a sad decline largely reflecting the disappearance of the large marshes which they once inhabited. This was caused by both natural causes such as fluctuations in rainfall and man made problems such as increasing drainage and water abstraction. In Andalucia its stronghold was and remains the marshes of the lower Guadalquivir valley. In 1900, several thousand birds still bred and it's said that in 1910 an astonishing 3,000 Marbled Teal eggs were collected in a single day! These eggs represent a greater investment by the birds than usual since they're comparatively large and an average clutch of 10-11 eggs is roughly equal to the duck's weight! Perhaps not surprisingly, by mid-century numbers had crashed to 100-500 pairs and today, despite some recovery in the 1980s, hovers between 30 and 50 pairs. These birds are concentrated around Brazo del Este and Veta la Palma; both, but particularly the latter, are distant from my base in Alcala and access to Veta la Palma is restricted. Hence, I was delighted when I found that Codo de la Esparraguera along the Guadalquivir just beyond Algaida pinewoods often harboured a small population of the species. One of the pools here had the sort of shallow water, floating vegetation and dense fringe of reeds that looked textbook habitat for this species.

It was here that I saw my first Marbled Teal. Most of the Codo de la Esparraguera is taken up by a fish farm and embankments divide it into separate pools. The first of these is a narrow triangle shaped pool which, at the acute angle of the enclosure nearest the road was rather silted up with a good growth of reeds (a). Marbled Teal like to conceal themselves amongst the clumps of reedy vegetation and can sometimes be hard to spot. In subsequent years I found them here regularly including a party of at least eight birds in spring 2011. The photos I took at the time gives some idea of this habitat.

Returning in 2013, I was devastated to discover that this wild little corner had been almost entirely destroyed. A deep ditch had been dug along the perimeter of the pool grubbing out almost all of the cover and leaving a long, low muddy levee parallel to the road behind which a few sad tufts of reed remained. It seems unlikely the ducks will be so easy to find after this wanton vandalism even if they may still be concealed in some out of the way corner.  

Continuing towards Trebujena the pools are generally more open, but with a handful of small islands where Marbled Teals sometimes be seen. In 2012 I had one with several ducklings here, so perhaps all is not lost. The final pool – best viewed from a gateway (b) – is often overgrown making seeing ducks problematical. (Alternatively, perhaps, I'll finally discover the site near Cadiz university campus where they're said to be found!) The pools along the Trebujena road often has large numbers of Red-crested Pochard, Flamingos, Spoonbills and, when shallow, waders. It's also a likely place to see Great White Egret.