27 July 2009 – God the Ornithologist

Well of course God is an ornithologist, birder, lover of all the creation. He is “the living god who made heaven and earth and sea and everything in them” as Saint Paul puts is succinctly to the Lystrians during one of his scrapes. Our travels on Šar Planina mountain and in Macedonia were much less dangerous but nonetheless full of excitements. We found ourselves in 2 very different habitats; Šar Planina is one of the highest Balkan ranges rising to over 2700m, and due to its wall-like position on the borders of Albania, Macedonia and Kosovo it isn't always easy to visit. It is high, remote, wild and breathtakingly beautiful. At the same time this long range rises up so abruptly that it can be seen towering above the other hills and mountains around it. On its north and Kosovo side the snow lies in streaks and patches well into high summer giving it its name by its šaren or striped appearance. Otherwise we criss-crossed Eastern Macedonia in a very different habitat; dry rocky hills and stony plains shimmered in a searing heat, a poor and harsh country seemingly emptied of people. But for birders it was a paradise of new species, different Mediterranean habitats, quite unlike green-cloaked fresh water bubbling Serbia.

Going out in the field for me is always a little pilgrimage. I recognize that the love of all things natural is a gift, a capacity to be thrilled, known by all but for some a special pleasure. Hence it is quite natural to say to the God of all the earth, and God of all birders, “Please, Dear Lord, show us your creative genius today!” After all, he “knows every bird on the mountain” and “every animal of the forest” is his, as the Psalmist puts it. And so it turned out. The God of all the earth seems to delight in answering this sort of worshipful prayer. Watching birds and finding wild flowers is always more delightful when it is a shared experience. As we turned for home and the long drive north we had a final hour's wander in a stony valley with small harvested fields full of larks and Woodchat shrikes. A beautiful Lanner falcon appeared and circled for several minutes hunting right over my head, the sun caught on its golden head and back. I shouted to my companions who were out of sight, but to no avail. They didn't see it! That was the only disappointment.

But the most extraordinary crossing of wild paths, far beyond tracing out, was on our last full day. We had driven all the way down the Vadar gorge to Demir Kapija in the hopes of finding vultures. We were disappointed; the tiny Griffon vulture colony had failed to breed due to exceptional cold and snow, and the real prize, the very rare Egyptian Vulture, hadn't bred there for some years we learnt. The Bela Kanja, as it is called in Serbian, is rarely seen, just clinging on in the Balkans. None of us had ever seen it before, but somehow we held a hope, even a premonition, that it would turn up to delight us. Leaving Kumanova behind, heading up the Kriva Reka to our camp site and an end of trip beer there was a shout. A large raptor was spotted way out to the right. “Could be an eagle!” said Miloš. “I think its a Booted Eagle! I can see some white ......hold on! It could be Bela Kanja!” We stopped and piled out in excitement. And sure enough there it was, our first Egyptian Vulture. We drove on to catch up with it. Then another one came over the hill, and the pair of them circled the little valley beside us for some 20 minutes, seemingly searching for carrion, broad white and black wings with white wedge-shaped tail. Eventually they passed on to who knows where. And who knows where they had come from, on what rocky ledge in remote mountains they had bred?

We all had a lot of firsts on this trip. Rock Thrushes and Rock Nuthatches, Booted eagles right over our head, the beautiful Lanner falcon, but a pair of Egyptian Vultures was a truly marvellous mystery, a crossing of paths of extraordinary chance. It seemed so typical of the God of grace and mercy. He created the universe, sustains it by his power, knows and cares about every vulture's eyrie, and he knows and cares about us. It was an undeserved, unexpected and unforgettable encounter. Birding as pilgrimage is always an adventure.