This week, I had the chance to visit a lagoon in the north of the province of Cadiz several times, and each time, it offered something new. The reason for these repeated visits was simple: the water level was the highest I had ever seen it, creating an environment full of photographic opportunities. It’s rare to find a place so transformed by winter rains, and with the season not yet over, the landscape feels more like an early announcement of spring. Fields are already bursting with bright colours, birds have begun to sing with renewed energy, and the mild temperatures under an almost cloudless sky made each visit even more enjoyable.

From the wooden hide overlooking the lagoon, I had a panoramic view of the water and the many birds making the most of it. Close to the structure, I observed several species actively foraging in the shallows. Among them were dozens of Meadow Pipits and White Wagtails, constantly on the move, as well as the striking Black-winged Stilts. One of the most exciting sightings was a large number of Glossy Ibises, their dark, iridescent feathers shimmering in the sunlight. But what truly stood out was the presence of around fifty Common Snipes, a species that can often be difficult to spot due to its camouflaged plumage and secretive nature. Seeing such a large group together was an unexpected highlight.








Another dominant presence at the lagoon was the Marsh Harrier. These raptors seem to rule over the wetlands, their mere presence enough to send flocks of birds scattering in panic. Time and again, I watched as Common Snipes and other waterbirds took off in unison at the sight of a harrier gliding low over the reeds. However, not all birds were intimidated. Some, in a bold display of defiance, attempted to chase the raptors away. It’s always fascinating to observe these interactions, a reminder that even in nature, hierarchy is constantly being tested.








Although often elusive, I was fortunate to spot a large flock of Stone Curlews. These birds have a habit of blending in perfectly with their surroundings, making them difficult to locate. But their presence in such numbers was unmistakable, and I managed to capture some photographs of them before they disappeared into the landscape once again.



Where there is water, there is life in abundance. Insects were everywhere, providing an essential food source for many species. White Wagtails darted through the air in pursuit of small flying insects, while numerous Chiffchaffs and Linnets flitted between the reeds and shrubs. One species that stood out due to its sheer numbers was the Zitting Cisticola, its distinctive calls filling the air as it moved restlessly over the vegetation.




Perhaps one of the most memorable encounters of the week was with a small group of Black-necked Grebes. These birds are notoriously wary and tend to stay at a distance, so I had to approach with caution to avoid disturbing them. Their striking black-and-white winter plumage, along with their red eyes, made them a captivating sight against the shimmering water. Watching them dive and resurface in perfect synchronization was a moment to savour.


With so much life concentrated in one place, each visit to the lagoon was a rewarding experience. The combination of high water levels, an abundance of food, and the gradual shift toward spring has created an environment where birds thrive. It’s a reminder of how dynamic these wetlands can be, changing with the seasons and offering new surprises with every visit.







Comments