Antony Owen at Snakeskin

The December issue of Snakeskin has two fine poems by Coventry poet Antony Owen – How To Find The Falkland Islands, and The Bombing of Beautiful Birds. The latter, you might notice, is 'after Matt Merritt, and I can only say that I'm proud and humbled to have in any way provided any spark of inspiration.

Much of Antony's work deals with war and its effects on both civilians, and the participants, and particularly how the latter are too often left to deal with their own trauma when they return home. I especially like those final two stanzas of the Falklands poem, but there's so much to like there.

You can read more about Antony's work as a poet (and peace activist) here – as you'll see, he was shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award for his most recent collection, The Nagasaki Elder.

A few years back, I was lucky enough to visit first the Falklands, and then Argentina, for work, in the space of 12 months. What struck me in both places was that, whenever the 1982 war was mentioned, it was not in terms of anger, or ongoing hostility, but simply with a deep sadness.

Birdwatching Argentina

As there's been a heavily Argentinian feel to the start of the new football season at Leicester, with the arrival of Ulloa and Cambiaso, I thought I'd post this video from the trip to Argentina I went on earlier this year. We were at Puerto Valle, looking out across the Rio Parana towards Paraguay. I don't actually do much in the video other than nod a lot, but fortunately my travelling companions were more talkative.

Argentinian interlude 4

Apologies for the picture quality here. My two excuses are:
1. It was taken through a slightly tinted and dusty minibus window; and
2. I have only the vaguest idea of what I'm actually doing with any of the settings on a camera, and even less about Photoshop.

But anyway this is an Aplomado Falcon, photographed near Bariloche in Patagonia. They're about the size of a small Peregrine, but more slender in build, and longer-winged, and act more like Hobbies, pursuing birds in level flight but feeding on large insects for much of the time.

And of course, all you students of Spanish out there will already have worked out that the name means 'leaden' or 'lead-coloured'.

Argentinian interlude 3

At the Bristol reading on April 11th, a gentleman bought a copy of my book The Elephant Tests on the strength of a particular poem, A Long Dry, which is set in Australia's Northern Territory. He wanted to send it to his daughter, who lives out there.

When I visited Northern Territory a few years back, one of the first birds I saw at Fogg Dam, not far outside Darwin, was the Jabiru, a large and hugely impressive stork. Even though the name sounds rather Australian, it is in fact named after the above bird, the original Jabiru, seen here in the Ibera wetlands.

Argentinian interlude 2

This Field Flicker was photographed at Rincon del Socorro, on the edge of the Ibera wetlands in northern Argentina. It was far from the only place that we saw this charismatic bird, but they were always a welcome sight.

Argentinian interlude 1

Just in case updating slips my mind over the next week or so, I've scheduled a few more posts from my recent trip to Argentina. Here's a White-headed Marsh Tyrant, taken in the Ibera wetlands - glorious little bird.

It's not just birds...

One of the greatest pleasures of my recent trip to Argentina was that there was plenty of non-avian wildlife to see. The howler monkeys above were in a patch of forest in the Ibera wetlands, one of a couple of groups that we saw while up there.

The caiman below, on the other hand, was one of hundreds we saw in the same area - the many pools, streams, channels and cuts are a paradise for them, you'd imagine. I don't think they're much of a threat to anything larger than a jacana, but they're satisfyingly fierce looking.

Another first in Argentina

We saw this Narrow-billed Woodcreeper in the Mburucuya National Park, northern Argentina. It's a family of birds I'd never come across before - they're not unlike our own Treecreeper, but rather larger.

Waders in Argentina

If I had to pick a favourite bird family, I'd probably be stuck between corvids and waders (shorebirds to Americans). I think my liking for the latter has something to do with growing up in a relatively wader-starved part of the country.

Anyway, both were in short supply in Argentina. As I've already noted, Chimago Caracaras seem to fill the niche taken here by Carrion Crows, Magpies and Jackdaws, while we were probably around at the wrong time of year to get many waders.

Having said that, the Southern Lapwing, below, was pretty much everywhere we went, and like all lapwings it's a striking creature.

At the top of this post is a South American Snipe, sometimes treated as a race of Common Snipe. There are certain differences in behaviour and call, from what I saw, but it's an interesting question.

Finally, below, there's a Solitary Sandpiper, a new bird for me. It has a certain Wood Sandpiper feel to it. Other wader ticks included South American Stilt, Two-banded Plover, and both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs (and trying saying the latter in a hurry).

Birding Argentina

I've just returned from a couple of weeks birding in Argentina - I was part of a press trip led by Tim Appleton, the founder of Birdfair and manager of the Rutland Water reserve. My other fellow travellers (and you'll hear more about them all later) were Bill Thompson III, editor of Bird Watcher's Digest in the USA, Dominic Couzens, one of the UK's best nature writers, and Niklas Aronsson, editor of Var Fagelvarld, the magazine of BirdLife Sweden.

After a day in Buenos Aires, we headed north into the Ibera wetlands, a region that's relatively unknown to European birders, but which has the look and many of the same birds as Brazil's famed Panatanal. From there we flew south, into the Andean foothills of Patagonia, and spent several days in the 'Lake District' around Bariloche and San Martin de los Andes.

I've already posted a fair few pictures on Facebook and Twitter, so apologies if there are some repeats here over the next few weeks. And before I get started, I'd just like to thank Pablo Cagnoni, everyone else at Inprotur Argentina, and our many excellent guides and hosts. You'll be hearing a lot more about them too.

Over the two weeks, we saw some truly astounding birds and wildlife spectacles, but I thought I'd start with a couple of what birders rather disparagingly (and disappointingly) call 'trash birds' - that is, very common and widespread species. Whenever I've bird-watched abroad, I've found it fascinating to discover just which species are the equivalent of the Blackbird or Great Tit that we see on a daily basis over here.

Above is a Great Kiskadee (Benteveo Comun, in Spanish), a large tyrant flycatcher that we saw everywhere in Ibera, as well as at the excellent Costanera Sur reserve in Buenos Aires. Its name is an imitation of its call, and it flycatches enthusiastically, hovering and swooping like a mini-raptor (it does occasionally catch small mammals and even fish).

Chimango Caracaras, above, were pretty much everywhere we went, and seemed to fill the niche taken up by Carrion Crows, Magpies and Jackdaws over here (the only corvids we saw were a couple of jays). That's to say, they feed opportunistically, and with a great willingness to adapt to whatever circumstances throw into their path. Despite their rather vulture-like behaviour, caracaras are related to falcons, and are found throughout South and Central America. I love corvids, and I love raptors, so a raptor that behaves like a corvid is always going to be a winner in my book.