And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is the end of our Mallorca series. This will be the last post of our time in Spain, but I hope to return someday, and write once again about this glorious island that holds a special place in my heart. We’ve had lifers, local experts, birdsong and long walks. But on that final day, a reminder of our holiday came to call…
It was time to go. The suitcases were zipped up and stood outside the front door, their yellow colours gleaming in the early morning sun. Everyone was busy, loading things into the car, chasing the baby, or locking the doors. But I stood in the garden, taking one last look at the place that had created so many lasting memories. The Red Kite circled above, putting on a show one last time. It had been incredible, but one week is never a long time. It flies by so quickly, and suddenly you’re facing saying goodbye as soon as you’ve said hello.
But some things can make goodbyes easier. Only slightly, but still, easier. Like the Nightingale singing its heart out, saying its farewells. Thats the main thing I will miss. Just being able to hear all these brilliant birds that you’d be lucky to see back home without even leaving the villa. Tree Sparrow, Serin, Honey-Buzzard, Scops Owl. All of them wonderful, all of them elusive in England. But I think I might be back one day. And until then, there’s a Mallorca shaped hole in my heart.
The Bovey Birder 