Engineering conservation

My morning walk today took me up the north bank path of the rio Aguas nature reserve, curious to see how much progress had been made in clearing vegetation from the river bed since I last went up there, exactly a month ago. I was astonished by what I saw.

Not only had another half a kilometre of cane and bushes been cleared from the watercourse, but several large earth moving vehicles were excavating the soil and adding it to the existing dykes, established as a flood prevention measure years ago. There are places on the north side where flood water erosion last winter swept away soil and vegetation, scouring three metre high precipices in places next to the dirt road. All this needs repairing, making stable and safe, and with vast amounts of alluvial soil and stone to draw upon, it will be possible to improve greatly the protection needed whenever there is catastrophic flooding and rio Aguas threatens to burst its banks.

Needless to say, the riverbed environment, stripped of its five metre high cane forest, looks ravaged and desolate, a conservationist's nightmare on a par with images of amazonian despoilation. But, the banks are not being heaped high with stone and the riverbed paved, as is often the case in cities having to cope with the disruptive effect of occasional deluges. There will be a dramatic effect on riverbed wildlife and ecosystems with such environmental disruption, but similar things happen if there is a big flood also, or a toxic incident. The soil here is rich and fertile and the impact of this remodelling of the riverbed won't be permanent. Vegetation will return and quickly re-grow, and the wildlife will return spreading from wherever it now takes refuge.

It was interesting to observe several Great Egrets accompanying the excavators, dicing with death in close proximity to tracks or giant wheels. Wherever the earth is broken open, a feast of seeds and insects is released, and keen eyed birds benefit. A short term gain for them, maybe, a treat in the never ending hunt for food. It was hard to get decent photographs, as the excavators are so big and the bird so tiny in comparison.

Stripped of vegetation, it's possible to see where the river used to meander and maybe still does if there is enough rain for water to appear at ground level. The core route of the river is also being excavated, it's definition being restored, so that it can more effectively take rain water running from the surface either side of the channel. On the north side of the valley, half way down is an artificial plastic lined pond, perhaps collecting spring water from the cliff above. This drains into a channel that connects to the central river bed, feeding the charco which at this point is a few hundred metres lower down toward the sea. All this must be carefully engineered to ensure the right balance between saline and fresh water for the vegetation around the charco to flourish.

How good it is that the municipality and regional government are willing to invest thought, time and money in large scale conservation project of this kind. Nobody wants floods, so managing the landscape is vital. Perhaps those involved have also noticed how many visitors are attracted by the very fact that an otherwise unremarkable coastal valley has retained its bio-diversity and made it into an attractive place to visit. I was passed on the dusty track by a couple of golf carts from the neighbouring Marina Playa course laden with passengers, curious like me to take a look at work in progress. I wonder what the watercourse will look like in a couple of years from now.

      

More bird surprises

When I walked out to the bridge over the charco this morning, three older men with telescopes on tripods were stood there chatting in English with West Country accents, inspecting the water below. Evidently twitchers. Their attention was directed toward what they spoke of as rarity in this place, a little grebe, also known as a Dabchick. The diminutive bird they pointed out was one I've observed and photographed often. It moves quickly and dives often compared to other dabblers. Getting a good photo is challenging for that reason. I was pleased to learn its name at last. I suspected there is a pair of them, but I've not them in the same stretch of water at the same time. Their quick diving habit makes them hard enough to spot let alone train a camera on. This is my best distance shot of it so far.

Then came a surprise, however, as what the men were getting excited about was a Dabchick chick, taking refuge on a clump of reeds, and occasionally venturing to rendezvous with its mother and practice diving. That was quite unexpected. The photo isn't that good, as both are less than half the size of a Pochard, and a good twenty metres away below me. But, I was there!

Later, I remembered to put on my walking shoes and went along the beach to the supermarket, thereby avoiding the annoyance of grit invading my sandals. I saw a solitary sandpiper high up the shore, hunting for insects, and then a few moments later, a lapwing in car park gravel nearby. I saw lapwings foraging above the shore last year, a few kilometres beyond Mojácar at Playa Macenas, but this was my first sighting this year.

I was delighted to hear from Clare this evening that sister-in-law Ann is planning to join us for a week in Montreux just after New Year, while I am on locum duty there. She'll be in Scotland with her son David for Hogmany, and flying direct from Edinburgh to Geneva. I enjoy having a chance to share places where I stay on locum duty with family and friends, other than with photographs.

  

Word memory

Gradually, the weather becomes more autumnal. It's still quite mild with daytime temperatures in the low twenties, but occasionally with stiff breezes which draw kite surfers out to offshore waters. Today started with overcast skies, and it rained before sunrise. With Sunday's sermon complete, I walked to Mercadona for weekend groceries, then visited the bridge over the charco,  (a word I'm training myself to repeat before I forget it again), to describe the local nature reserve with my camera, to see what there was to be seen early evening. 

I was fascinated to observe a purple swamp hen using its strong red clawed non-webbed feet to pull shoots from a clump of reeds, then proceed to strip the pith from its core to feed on. I obtained a few good photographs, including this one.

Several shots I took in what I must remember to call 'burst mode'. It's a setting I use so rarely I'd forgotten where it's located, so resorted to downloading the HX300 pdf manual to find out. It's not the most user-friendly of texts, so this took me a while. Mind you, it didn't help that I was unclear about the name of the rapid fire facility. All I could remember was the slang French photographic term for this, mitrailler, which means 'machine gun' after the noise made by a rapidly firing shutter.

Everyone complains about memory lapses as they get older, recall may still be there but isn't quite as efficient as it used to be, sometimes more erratic. If you use words rarely, it becomes an effort to find them when you need them. For me, writing this blog as often as I have something to tell about life in retirement, helps me remember the sequence of life's events when it threatens to blur, and acquires gaps from neglect. More than that though, the very varied act of narration is a fine way of exercising language memory, although I wouldn't dare to try writing in anything other than English. I admire those who do. 

Language has been a fascination to me since I was young. Poor teaching in Grammar School sadly sapped my speaking confidence in a way that took decades to recover from. With a little help from encounters with linguistic philosophy through Clare at University, however, curiosity never left me and exploring language still affords much pleasure.

Columbus Day

Apart from a walk up to the bridge over the rio Aguas to check out the evening wildlife, I stayed in, all day Tuesday and Wednesday, sleeping, eating and drinking Thyme Tea, to alleviate the symptoms of the cold. And it worked. By the time I woke up today, my head was clearer than it has been for a week and my chest was less sore. I wasn't concerned that another 45 minute drive up the Almanzora Valley to Aljambra would make me feel worse, and set off for the Midweek Communion service in the capilla with confidence. It was made a little easier by the lack of traffic on the roads, as today is Columbus Day, a Spanish Bank Holiday.

During my two days of down-time, I wrote both a Thursday and a Sunday sermon using Trinity 18 Mass readings, but focusing on the Related for one and Continuous for the other. There are times when both are interesting enough to be worth exploring separately, which you can't do in one sermon. I continue to enjoy working on Jewish scriptural texts in a way I didn't when I was younger, when I would happily have done away with Old Testament readings on grounds that they lacked relevance to today. As I get older, many more of the Psalms seem to connect with how I experience what is going on in the modern world, and difficult though Old Testament stories and prophecies can be until their context is exposed, I can find contemporary relevance in them more easily than ever. Here's hoping my audiences agree!

After the service, David and Kath took me for lunch at 'Bistro Bonita' in in the country village of Oria on the plain north west of Albox. All shops close, and most restaurants are fully booked with families enjoying time out together. The restaurant is owned and run by an ex-submariner British chef, with his sister, since his wife died. It's a favourite eating place with expats as his menu is wonderfully unpretentious British 'home cooking', delivered with the highest quality fresh ingredients, and loving application of olive oil and garlic where necessary. The Aljambra congregation can raise forty for the annual Christmas dinner here, and it's packed to the doors. Salad, spatchcock chicken, apple and plum crumble with custard. It was most enjoyable, and the conversation over lunch was also a pleasure.

The journey on minor roads of the main highway took us past a huge industrial plant, whose purpose seemed to be the conversion of locally quarried gypsum into plasterboard panels. Trees and plants in fields for a kilometer downwind from the factory were coated greyish white with stone dust. It would be impossible for people to live in that zone. I wondered about the health of the wildlife too.

Much of the region's gypsum is exported from Garrucha Port in bulk carriers, for use in similar manufacturing plants in other Mediterranean countries where I imagine labour is cheaper. Last weekend I observed one bulk carrier loading on my way through Garrucha, and three anchored off shore. That's twice as many ships as I saw queuing to load up this time last year. Also I noticed a tower crane in action lately on the unfinished apartment buildings on the tall escarpment overlooking the rio Aguas. Small symptoms of an economy beginning to pick up? I hope so.

Natural engineering

After breakfast, a walk around the nature reserve to discover how the sand bar, denuded of vegetation at its southernmost end had been re-forged along the line of least resistance for the flood waters, giving an interesting shape to the lake's sea shore boundary. The lake waters still teem with fish. There's an abundance of coots, a few mallards. a heron, grasshoppers,and butterflies. I heard and saw briefly on the ground a single warbler. A puddle in a mud patch under the road bridge played host to scores of small brown frogs. The only notable absence, which I observed last night was the colony of egrets. Winter flood waters may have wrecked the habitats of some species, though nature is resilient, so maybe the egrets will return some time.

At the end of the afternoon, I drove to Arboleas for the bereavement visit, meeting the wife and son of the man who died. They had been able to nurse him themselves at home right to the end, which is a real blessing for an old man. Co-incidentally, I officiated this time last year at the funeral of another man who'd lived in a nearby street of this urbanizacion. When the place was built in the early nineties, most of those who settled there were retired British or other European expats, content to live out the rest of their days far from their native soil. Whether this generation will be replaced by other retirees in the present political and economic climate remains to be seen. I don't suppose I'll end my life somewhere abroad. Much as I appreciate the climate and landscape of places I visit, I have yet to find a place where I feel I could settle permanantly. Where we live in Pontcanna is far from being my ideal location. It's a compromise, we can live with, and probably die with.

No internet connection all day today. The device is working, and displays a green light, but doesn;t deliver, and this time I know not why. I investigated the router firmware, but this didn't shed any light on the matter. Can it have exceeded its monthly data cap already in 36 hours? I'm not such a heavy user, no video only a few hours of radio streaming and some VOIP calls, unless yesterday's call from Geoff, lasting over an hour wiped the monthly allowance. There's no way of finding out however. The router isn't as smart as a smartphone.

Election aftermath

Last night was probably the coldest I've experienced in Spain this year, although I don't suppose the temperature dropped below twelve degrees. I woke up several times, and couldn't resist a quick check on the American Presidential election commentary, and as proceedings developed it was harder to get back to sleep. I ended up hunting for another blanket as I wasn't conserving heat, after reaching for a phone or tablet on which I could listen to BBC news. By dawn, it was clear that there was going to be a major upset, not predicted by the polls, unexpected, as with the Brexit vote. 

The only early indication of Trump's victory came from a tech' blog commentator on Wired.com, pointing out that traffic analysts had noticed Twitter and other social media platforms were getting a disproportionately high volume of Trump favoured input, reflecting the same trend observed during the campaign. Trump seemed to be constantly in the news spotlight for his outrageous remarks, as social media would be the first place reporters would look for material to write about. 

Social media distributes and promotes information and disinformation, facilitating discussion outside the range of news media intelligence trawls and it happens much faster than news media can deliver. Trump's media strategists and activists contributed to his victory, and got people out to vote who had abstained or never voted before. Perhaps something similar was happening in the Brexit campaign, that wasn't adequately taken into account by those who thought they were going to win, and even took by surprise those who weren't sure they'd win. Only those who are really marketing savvy would notice the trend, from their own experience of commercial brand promotion.

So, America has been sold Trump, as it might have been sold soap, or a Caribbean time-share. Across the world his victory has evoked nervous reactions. Everyone is wondering how much of his blustering rhetoric he meant, and which outrageous statements if any, he will translate into policies affecting the lives of billions, and potentially the fate of the planet and humankind, if he disregards the latest climate change treaties, or is willing to use nuclear weapons as more than a deterrent threat. 

From Trump's victory speech, he has adopted a more dignified conciliatory posture, appealing for all parties to unify around his presidential leadership for patriotic motives. Obama and Hilary Clinton also made suitably dignified and patriotic noises of support for the presidency. A time honoured ritual, yet the exceptional toxicity of the campaign, undermined confidence in both main candidates. 

It's clear Trump won't have high popularity ratings as President, but no matter what he achieves, will he be trusted or respected? The media onslaught has exposed all the ills and weaknesses of the American political system. The ensuing loss of innocence cannot be ignored or hidden. In America, as in the UK, we are entering uncertain times. Navigating through whatever happens next when the collective moral compass has been trashed and tossed aside, is a real cause for concern.

I emerged from the house mid-morning and went for a walk, to get away from the radio and internet. A broken night's sleep made me feel like I had a hangover, despite several alcohol free days. It's hard to take it all in, hard to know how to pray about these affairs. Living with change and interpreting change from a faith perspective, is what I've been doing for most of my ministry. At my time of life that's about all I can do. Brexit, this election and all that accompanied both, however, represent what gets called 'disruption' these days, an unexpected and radical shift in the process of change itself. It challenges and shakes up our thinking in a way that is bewildering. Where do we go from here? 

After lunch I had a call from Alwyn asking if I could contact Mojacar's parish priest Fr Manuel and check he has the date for this year's bi-lingual ecumenical service of lessons and carols in his diary. I checked what I thought was the right thing to say with Google Translate, and called him. I was so pleased that he understood me and that I understood his affirmative response. Daily language drills using the DuoLingo Android app help greatly to anchor vocabulary and sentence formation in my memory, but what I most need is full time exposure to life in a Spanish speaking family and community. Having to speak French most days in Geneva did wonders for learning achievement. I need the same opportunity here in Spain!

In an effort to shut the news out of my head for a little longer, I went out for another walk at tea time, but only as far as the rio Aguas, and then circumnavigated the inland lagoon (if that's what this stretch of inland watercourse is rightly called) on the beach side. I got some photos of the first of the Egrets returning to roost, and several of warblers, though figuring out which kind of warbler, is another matter. I think there are several in this stretch of wetland. A very satisfying sort of distraction, before the sun slipped away behind Mojacar Pueblo and the Sierra Cabrera through an array of tinted dark clouds.

         

Finally, a Hoopoe day

Another overcast day, and a morning spent reading news reports on reactions to yesterday's Law Lords' judgement on the need for the British Parliament to be consulted before the Brexit process is started. The tabloid newspapers hysterical and misleading denunciation of long established legal authority and process is deeply disturbing. If these newspaper owners and their editors claim to be the 'voice of the people' what they are doing is preaching anarchy and calling for mob rule. It's worrying to witness truth being cast aside in favour of unsubstantiated, inaccurate oft repeated opinionation, and its happening all over the western world these days. It's every bit as evil as religious fundamentalism in its many guises, and is re-enforcing social divisions by the day. So disheartening.

Finally, after lunch, I summoned the effort to shrug off worldly despair and get out for a walk. I crossed the rio Aguas bridge and then turned into the complex of hotels and apartments and golf course that are part of the prestigious Marina Club Golf resort. I've walked through parts of the resort a few times before, but this time I climbed up as high as I could, to a ridge about 70m above sea level, where there are several very classy architect designed luxury dwellings with fantastic views inland and out to sea. 

The course extends down on to the plain the other side of the ridge, cutting a huge green grassy enclave out of an inland plain of pale sandy soil. In season I guess this would be normally used to grow cereal crops. It was hard to avoid overhearing a snatch of conversation between two golfing gents talking loudly in their electric buggy on their return trip. "I spent two hundred and fifty thousand." Then "Did you say two hundred and sixty thousand ....?" Yes, it's that sort of place. But already, something else had caught my eye.

Looking out over part of the golf course on the sea side towards Puerto Garrucha, its loading dock empty since the departure of the bulk carrier 'Sun Vita' after sunset last night, a distinctive bird flew out of the shadows, then settled again on a green further away. I first saw a Hoopoe take to the air when I surprised one on a track in the pinewoods near El Chaparal golf course, La Cala de Mijas in the winter of 2013. Several times later, I glimpsed one in the foothills of the Alpujarras behind Nerja, where I got one lucky, but slightly blurred photo of the bird on the wing. It was only recognisable Hoopoe photo until now. This was among the first I took today.

A perimeter fence post at shoulder height enabled me to stabilise my trusty Sony HX50, so that I could shoot near the limit of its 30x zoom if needed. The bird obligingly allowed itself to be photographed in the company of a pied wagtail, and what I think was a Rock Pipit. Then, even better. I spotted a second and third Hoopoe foraging on the same green. I got a good clear picture of two together out of three, the other was just out of sight. 

So unexpectedly in a few minutes, a dull day turned to delight and exultation. I've hunted for Hoopoes to photograph, each duty tour in Spain for the past three and a half years, so taken was I by my first El Chaparal encounter.

Another little surprise of the past few days has been the appearance of a pair of pied wagtails around the rio Aguas watercourse. They were there again as a made my way back to the apartment, as the sun was going down. Separately, they fly out of the reed beds, alight on an isolated clump of reed in the water, then fly around in tight circles, returning to the same spot, presumably insect gathering. 

Being a bit bigger and brighter coloured than other reed bed denizens, wagtails are quite distinctive. Most of the time they are sociable. I once counted two dozen together in the Asda Leckwith car park. Not when they're mating to reproduce however. They seem to count on the absence of predators to hang out in a twosome around the watercourse at this time of year.

Tonight, I look at the photos with pleasure, but also a little disappointment. Might I have got better pics with my Sony HX300, with greater magnification, but essentially the same camera innards? Shooting at extreme zoom lengths and getting decent images is a chancy business. Now I know where to find  those Hoopoes, should I return there tomorrow with the other camera? Really, I could do with a camera with a bigger sensor as well as a decent zoom, but at this point the cost of my little diversion start escalating unreasonably. Fair quality on a modest budget is a factor in my measure of hobby satisfaction, but real pleasure is to be found in the surprise gift of a moment unexpected.

       

Sunday morning arrival

I was unable to benefit from an extra hour's sleep, and woke before dawn, as I have been doing lately. By the time I'd prayed and breakfasted, I was ready to leave for church but still an hour early. I heard a ship's siren sounding, something I've not so far noticed here, so I walked to the Rio Aguas bridge and then beyond to investigate. One of the large bulk carriers was on its final approach to Puerto Garrucha, in the company of two tugs. I watched the nearly 30,000 tonne ship being helped to dock stern first at the quay where gypsum is loaded, and got some pleasing photos. Later, the maritime traffic website told me the ship is called 'Kure Harbour', that it docked three hours ahead of schedule after a voyage from Morocco. The tugs, Nueve Chaparro and Guapo C are Garrucha based, and the website records their comings and goings regularly.

As I walked back over the bridge, I spotted a Great Heron standing in a prominent location up river, and took some photographs. It's the first I've seen here.

Then, off to the Ermita San Pascual for the Eucharist. As this is an autumnal holiday weekend for local people, the roads were a little busier than usual. It's quite noticeable because the speed limit along the coast road is 40kph, with plenty of speed bumps. Drivers don't negotiate these bumps in a uniform way - some are businesslike about it at 40kph, whilst others slow down considerably, and that inhibits the traffic flow even further. I remember people saying how the 20 minute journey time to the Ermita can double, if not more, on summer holiday Sundays, and now I've seen the contrast between Sundays, I understand why.

There were fifty people in church, and my Bible Sunday repeat sermon was only the same in parts, as there are options in the lectionary, and this week's readings were different from last. After the service, I was invited to lunch by Peter and Angela along with a friend of theirs at an Indian restaurant in Vera Playa. It was an enjoyable surprise. The food was good, and so was the company. I could have done with a siesta went I returned but somehow it didn't happen. 

I spent a long time talking with Clare on WhatsApp, as she was watching Rhiannon bake and decorate Hallowe'en cup cakes. For a short while it was impossible to sustain the call connection, no matter which internet app I tried. No idea why, but every now and then it seems to happen, regardless of the device I use, or the country I'm in. Amazing it works as well as it does, and how much better now that it was just 5-10 years ago. It's just inconvenient if it doesn't always work for no reason. But, it does reveal just how dependent it's possible to become on the perpetual availability and reliability of this means of communication.