It feels like an age since my previous post, and the truth of it is that I have made many starts but I haven’t found the where with all to get one finished and hit the publish button. Since I last wrote, I have moved house twice, the first being a first floor flat with no back door, but I have recently moved to an actual house with, not only a back door, but a small patch of lawn, a lemon tree and a view including a small corner of the Mediterranean.

I have moved to the East of Málaga, to Pedregalejo to be precise. I know the area well, having worked at our bike shop just down the road from here, for 15 years. This is a quiet neighbourhood with a beach and a series of hills dotted with fabulous old mansions and plenty of new build duplexes. There are pockets of green spaces, which Billy and I have been exploring, and which should be featuring prominently in my future birding escapades.

Málaga is experiencing a prolonged rainy period, to the extent that I and most locals I speak to cannot remember so many days of constant rainfall. The desperate levels of Málaga’s reservoirs are now no longer critical, indeed one of the smaller ones has been actually opening the sluices, having reached it’s capacity. With more rain forecast for the rest of the week, I feel a remarkable sense of a weight being lifted, with the very real threat of a water shortage, for the moment, a thing of the past. I also hope for a bumper season for the visiting birds. With so much vegetation, the food should be plentiful.

So today Billy and I set out to do a loop heading East from here and crossing Arroyo Jaboneros (normally a dry riverbed) at El Palo, and following the course of the river North up towards the open countryside. The thickets are busy with Chiffchaffs and Blackcaps, getting ready for the trip North. The huge numbers of Black Redstarts that descend on Málaga during the Winter are starting to dwindle, and the Crag Martins have retreated to the higher ground while the House Martins take over their feeding stations, and the first swallows and swifts can be heard chattering and screaming respectively. The ever present Sardinian Warblers are making themselves heard, perching higher than a month or so ago, and looking resplendent in their breeding finery. I heard a Nightingale, not in full song yet, just a frog-like but unmistakeable croak from the lower branches of an olive.

We met Tomás, another dog walker who turned out to have lived in the area all his life. We chatted as we strolled along amongst the waist high greenery, Tomás occasionally reaching down and pinching the fresh tops of the asparagus and eating them raw ( a little bitter but delicious). In a little over half an hour he told me how he had managed to turn his life around. From being written off by the doctors, he is now sober and loving life. Up at Pinares our paths split, I hope we bump into each other again.

The path flattens out as we reach the base of the cliff which forms the Western slope of San Anton, the biggest of the hills surrounding Málaga. Scanning the cliff the binoculars, the first bird I saw was a male Peregrine, launching from it’s ledge and making some sweeping, arcing moves in front of the calling female. I plan to head back up tomorrow with the telescope. I very much hope that she is sitting on an egg! Blue Rock Thrush constantly fly in and out of the crevices up high, and crested larks are leaving their favourite perches and taking to the air to sing. Having eaten nothing but asparagus, we made our way back down to the swollen river with our stomach’s rumbling but spirits high. It’s going to be a good Spring.