Birdwatching at the hide in El Bosque
- Mar 23
- 4 min read
Spring is just around the corner—or rather, it has fully arrived since my last visit to the birdwatching hide in the botanical garden of El Bosque. I first visited six weeks ago, on a crisp, late-winter morning, when the landscape still held onto the quiet stillness of the colder months. Recently, I returned to the same spot, eager to see how the changing season had transformed both the surroundings and the birdlife.
First visit: a late-winter encounter
My trip to the birdwatching hide in the botanical garden of El Bosque was a perfect reminder of the seasonal shift. The morning was bright and clear, with the sun casting a warm glow over the landscape—a beautiful day for birdwatching. I had high hopes as I made my way to the hide, camera gear in tow, eager to see what feathered visitors would appear at the drinking pool.
The hide itself is very well designed—spacious and comfortable, with a large drinking pool that is framed by a lush border of moss. This feature alone makes it a fantastic place for photography. The moss adds a touch of wild beauty, creating a natural setting that enhances any shot. However, my excitement was briefly dampened by two initial frustrations.
First, I struggled a bit with the door, which took some effort to open. Once inside, another disappointment awaited: the hide’s windows were heavily fogged up due to condensation. This was a real issue because visibility is everything in a bird hide, and I could barely make out what was happening at the pond. Thankfully, I had brought a cloth with me, which proved invaluable. Cleaning the inside was straightforward, but reaching the outer side was trickier. I managed to wipe down the edges, but the central part of the glass remained foggy. However, nature took care of the rest—by around midday, as the temperature rose, the remaining condensation evaporated, leaving the view crystal clear.
By that time, I had already taken some excellent photos. The stars of the morning were the Robins, which were remarkably confident and frequently visited the pond. Their bright red breasts stood out vividly against the green moss, making for striking images. Chaffinches also made regular appearances, darting in and out of the area with their characteristic flashes of white wing markings. These common yet charming birds always bring life to a scene with their active foraging and occasional vocalisations.
The biggest surprise of the day was a Dunnock. This shy and often overlooked bird made a brief but memorable visit to the pond. Dunnocks are usually more reserved, sticking to undergrowth and hedgerows, so seeing one at the drinking pool was quite unexpected. It was likely making its way northward as part of its migration, taking a quick stop to refuel before continuing its journey.
Second visit: spring in full bloom
Returning to the hide felt familiar, yet everything had changed. The door was still a bit stubborn, but this time, there was no condensation fogging up the windows—just a clear view of a landscape that had burst into bloom. The hide was now equipped with two comfortable chairs, making the little stool I had brought redundant.
However, one thing was noticeably different: not a single bird visited the drinking pool. With the recent heavy rainfall, natural water sources were abundant, so there was little reason for birds to stop at the artificial water station. Instead, I found my attention drawn elsewhere, to the trees and bushes now alive with spring activity.
The air was filled with bird calls, and I was lucky to spot several new species that hadn’t been present during my first visit. A tiny Firecrest flitted through the branches, while an Iberian Chiffchaff moved quickly between budding leaves. A Crossbill made an appearance, with its specialised beak perfectly adapted for extracting seeds from conifer cones. The highlight of the morning, however, was a pair of Great Spotted Woodpeckers, drumming on the branches—a rhythmic announcement of spring’s arrival.
Looking back on these two visits, it’s remarkable how much can change in just a few weeks. What was once a quiet, late-winter retreat has now transformed into a lively springtime scene, filled with new sounds, colours, and species. The absence of birds at the water station was a reminder that nature is always shifting—what draws wildlife one day might be unnecessary the next. But that unpredictability is part of the beauty of birdwatching. Each visit tells a different story, shaped by the season, the weather, and the birds themselves.
I’ll certainly return to the hide again, knowing that no two visits will ever be the same.
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