Birdwatching At Home in the Czech Republic

Our area of the Czech Republic is rightly famous as a destination for birdwatchers. There are several internationally recognised areas where ornithologists can see many unusual and common European birds. I am going to do a post or two about my birdwatching trips, but I actually don't need to go anywhere as the birds just come to me.

I am surrounded by birds and birdsong every time I work in the garden and orchard. The most common bird is the redstart (shown here in photo taken from Wikipedia) and it is as cheeky as any robin. In fact it is so friendly that the other day one arrived in my house, fluttering around the living room and bumping into the window. Then a few days later a swallow expertly flew through a crack at the top of my window, took a swing around the house, decided there was nothing worth investigation before equally expertly flying out again.

Other regular avian visitors to the garden are treecreepers who explore the rough granite stone walls of the barn for insects, woodpeckers (green, spotted and the non-British grey-headed), fieldfares, nuthatches, wagtails, tits, finches of various types,(including serins, siskins, and bramblings) and the ubiquitous magpies. A friend of mine has had the stunning scarlet rosefinch in her garden, but she lives closer to the forest edge.

Birds of prey are also to be seen from my garden. As I have said in a previous post we sometimes see black kites here and buzzards (common and rough-legged) are usually circling somewhere. The other day I saw three birds of prey being attacked by one brave magpie. The two larger birds (buzzards) ignored it, but the smaller of the three suddenly responded with a hurtling dive at the pesky magpie. You could almost hear the magpie cry, "Shit!!! It's a sparrowhawk." as it fled. 

Toilet breaks

I was driving along a country road the other day behind an old Skoda. The road was typical of many one gets in the Czech countryside - built at a time when there were no cars and few carts and so narrow enough to make overtaking difficult. And as is the case with many such roads it was lined with fruit trees which made overtaking even more dangerous, so there I was - stuck but philosophical. Then suddenly the car in front started to indicate - I could see no side road down which it could be turning and sure enough all the Skoda did was pull up. I  could do nothing but stop behind the car as the road rose to brow just beyond the parked cars.

What was the matter? Imagine my annoyance when the male driver and his passenger jumped out of the car and walk away. Then in clear sight they proceeded to pee against one of the fruit trees. When they had finished they walked nonchalantly back to the car doing up their flies.  

I have observed such behaviour regularly - Czech males peeing in public. On any car trip of length you are likely to see this (and not just on car trips). As a Brit I still find this lack of embarrassment strange. What is it about the Czech male? Is it, as I suspect, a cultural thing? A friend of mine once told me "I do enjoy peeing in nature." Getting back to nature certainly has a great appeal to the Czech psyche, maybe this is a reason. Or is it related to the copious amounts of beer Czech men drink?

Sharing the Garden

 

Having spent so long doing up my Czech house I am at last turning my attention to our enormous garden. Well, I say 'garden' it's really an overgrown orchard - very overgrown. As long-standing readers of my blog will be aware I started the hard process of mowing some of it a few years ago. At first my only option was to hand scythe, but each year I have managed to get more of it to a point where my electric strimmer can take some of the strain off my shoulder and arm muscles.  

The improvement is such that this year I decided to start planting some shrubs. My friend Hannah had always urged me to improve the garden. She was a great one for planting decorative shrubs and plants with edible fruit (very Czech) and what little was left of her busy life was spent gardening, including removing snails from her strawberries and throwing them over the fence. I pointed out that that was all very well if you are in the Czech Republic all the time, but I am not and so the battle against pests would be lost almost as soon as it began. Now with Hannah's death I found myself rethinking my position. With a large population of snails and ground riddled with mouseholes it was a no to strawberries and runnerbeans but more substantial shrubs might be possible.

I returned from the garden centre (Czech garden centres are very different to English ones - less flowers and more trees) with an aronia bush, two sea buckthorns (male and female to allow pollination), an edible amelianchior, raspberries, thornless blackberry and cranberry. After a day's digging the shrubs stood proud on a bank half way down the garden, where the blossom and bright fruit will be visible from the window by my desk.

A few days later I inspected the plants to discover that someone/thing had chewed the bark of my aronia. This was unexpected - snail damage on the raspberries yes, rabbit attack on the blackberry - but not a large shrub. Look closely at the photo above and you will see the culprit - a deer. I knew they regularly strip my plum trees of fruit on the lower branches, but I was not expecting them to eat bark in early summer. During the day I never see them in the orchard (this photo was taken at dawn from the window hence the lack of clarity), but I do see their droppings.

I checked the internet and discovered that the answer to this problem was human urine. Apparently they are scared off by human scent. So urine it was. I leave you to work out how it was delivered to the aronia bush!

A Relationship With Trees

When I was in the Cesky Raj - Bohemian Paradise - I passed this old tree on the side of the road and had to stop and take this photograph. For the Czechs the old limetree merits a wooden roof to protect its stump, a sign and to be marked on the map. But a cursory examination of most Czech maps will find 'significant' trees - 'dub' (oak), lipa (lime) etc.

I have been unable to find out any real significance in these trees, other than they are usually old and so have been a feature in the landscape for several generations - this tree is about 280 years old.Yes, we Brits do on occasion preserve trees but usually they have some historical or at least legendary claim on our thoughts and time. When I contrast the Czech veneration for these trees to British attitudes it seems so much greater.

As I have said in previous posts the forest plays an important part in the Czech psyche and I think this tree veneration is part of this. But in the case of limes - they are a symbol of nationhood. The limetree is the national tree and linked to the legendary founder of the Czech nation Queen Libuse. My research into the life of Czech religious reformer Jan Hus (John Huss) reveals that he reputedly preached regularly under trees. These trees or what is left of them are now of course significant.

Rock Castle at Sloup v Cechach

A few weeks ago I was visiting the Bohemian Switzerland and was making my way to Jicin when my satnav decided to take me on the scenic route. I am very glad it did, because it brought me through some lovely old villages with the traditional wooden houses of the northen Sudetenland and to this rock castle at Sloup v Cechach.

The northern part of the Czech Republic cannot boast the wonderful unspoilt towns of South Bohemia, its towns have been too industrialised. But it can boast spectacular sandstone formations like the one above and is a mecca for lovers of spectacular scenery, geology and rockclimbing. Some were converted into rock castles when robbers or local leaders built forts on the top of them. But in this one much of the castle is hollowed out of the rock itself (Sloup means column in Czech).

You enter the castle via a small door at the base of the rock and then climb a staircase cut through the rock, with toolmarks on the wall, further up you will find rooms - a black kitchen, chapels, living rooms, and more buildings on top of the rock itself. It probably started as a shelter for local people and then in the later middle ages became a more formal fortress. After a period as the base of a robber knight it was besieged and taken. During the Baroque period the rock was home to a hermit and several chapels were built for pilgrims to the site.

It really is the most weird place and one unlike anything I have experienced elsewhere. You are left alone to explore the rooms clutching an information sheet and imagining the past, so much better than the rather boring guided tours the Czechs normally insist on providing. My visit did not take long, but I left grateful to my satnav.

Czech Customs Museum - Easter

Easter in the Czech Republic is one of the most important events in the year. I have blogged before about the custom of painting easter eggs and women being beaten with woven willow switches in return for luck and easter eggs before now. A troupe of my neighbours' children (girls and boys) went round the village collecting eggs, chanting Easter rhymes and waving switches on Easter Monday (although not necessarily in that order). Twenty-first century commercialism  has sadly got in on the act - if you are too lazy or have not been trained to make the switch yourself you can buy them in Tescos! As I have covered egg painting and switches in a previous post, I will leave my comments at that and move on to something else.

No, in this post I want to talk about a wonderful Prague museum, which is regularly and sadly overlooked by foreign visitors. My excuse for doing so, (not that I need an excuse, as this is my blog and I can post what I like) is that it is the Musaion - the Museum of Czech Ethnography - in Kinsky Gardens and of course features the Easter celebrations in its displays.

The picture from the museum collection above is of a figure of death or the old winter - called Caramura (in Moravia) or Morena (in the Sumava). The figure is usually made of straw and decorated with a necklace of eggs. The figure is processed to a river where it is torn apart, burnt and the remains thrown into the river. With winter dead, spring and Easter can begin. Other easter exhibits included a large collection of traditional decorated eggs (different areas have different forms of decoration) and switches.

In all the time I was in the museum, which was over an hour, I think there was only one other visitor. We were outnumbered by the old ladies who were the Museum's attendants. As I left I said "Muzeum je krasne" (the museum is beautiful), to which I got broad smiles Why wasn't the museum full of Czechs, let alone foreign tourists? I can't tell you how much I enjoyed the exhibits - there were exhibits on the Lent and Christmas, Masopust, Harvest festivals, birth and marriage traditions, traditional folk costumes, folkart, crafts and furniture and even more recent traditions such as the Czech hiking tradition. Most of the notices were in Czech, but all the rooms had summaries in English.

I combined my museum visit with a walk up onto Petrin Hill - another one of Prague's well-kept secrets. The Hill has is covered with woods and orchards and allows the best view of the old city. I went in spring, my favourite time for visiting the hill - it was covered with wildflowers (grape hyacinths, yellow stars of Bethlehem, blue squill and violets) and the fruit trees were in blossom.

Flashes of wonder

Today has been a remarkable day for insects.

Yesterday morning I was working in the orchard clearing some space for some shrubs I had bought, when I noticed that the cherry tree blossom was about to burst. I withdrew into the shade and cool of the house for a midday break and when I re-emerged at 3pm I found that the miracle had happened and the cherry tree was covered with white blossom. Today I returned to the orchard to plant the aforementioned shrubs and was amazed to find the cherrytree was buzzing loudly and the blossom shimmering with frantic bees.

Then this evening I went to Cesky Krumlov to feed Hannah's (Salamander's) cats, my way took me along the bank of the River Vltava. Another miracle - the air was full of mayflies (even if it is still only April). I watched with amusement as the diners at the riverside restaurants waved their hands as insects landed in the food and hair. By the time I made my way back to my car it was nearly dark and the mayflies were swirling flashes of light in the ray of the spotlights that illuminate the castle. It was a magical moment and one Hannah would have loved. Looking back through this blog I realise how often when I spoke of her, it was because we were sharing a moment of wonder such as this. In a way I feel we still are.