One of the most spectacular birds on Tenerife in my opinion, incredibly easy to see at some sites, but next to impossible to photograph. Or at least that's my excuse anyway. The main issue is that they frequent the areas underneath picnic tables, and rather than come and eat breadcrumbs left at photogenic locations, would rather grub around in deep shade. I tried, I really did, but it just didn't come off. The barely ever came into the sun, and when they did it was on top of a table. I tried placing a natural perch on top of the table, but no, they preferred the bare table! I have five images I'm prepared to share after something like four hours over two mornings, it was that tough. Very frustrating. The final image is an inventive crop of a bird that popped out in the sun for a microsecond. I had the presence of mind to change the exposure and nab a shot, but of course the background was absolute dap. I've cloned a bit extra in above and the right of the head to enable a vertical crop. I had a perch set up where this wouldn't have been necessary and I'd have had the whole bird with this background. Would it go near it?!

I'd been keen to see quite how different these birds were from are own, especially since discovering on Shetland that Great Spotted Woodpeckers come in different flavours, something I had not known. For instance those from Northern Latitudes as might migrate from Scandinavia, have stubbier bills. Those from Southern climes, including those on the Canaries, are dusky in place of white amongst other things. And indeed they were, and I got some great views at Las Lajas recreational area in the pine forest belt on Mt Tiede. I read somewhere that there are likely fewer than 100 pairs on Tenerife, so that makes these birds incredibly rare really - however at Las Lajas they were a complete doddle.

One of the birds I was most keen to see on Tenerife was the Macaronesian endemic Berthelot's Pipit. I'd seen some cracking photos on the web, and was keen to replicate those as well as see the bird really well. Ideally both of course, and is was likely that one would follow the other unless I was really unlucky. As it happened they're everywhere, and incredibly tolerant of a close approach. I had no idea what they sounded like, and don't even have the call on my phone (nor any of the Tenerife endemics as it turned out), but when I heard an unfamiliar call on the first afternoon that somehow just sounded pipit-y I was soon onto one, and then the species became a regular feature of pretty much anywhere I went in the lowlands. I managed some pretty nice image in fading light on day one, and so went to bed pretty pleased with myself given the really limited time I'd had. The first images, though dull, do convey the exact setting very well. The birds liked to run along the ground, but when a slight lookout presented itself, they seemed perfectly happy to hop up. The tactic was to place myself ahead of likely rock and see what happened. Sometimes it was bypassed, other times it all worked out.

Later on in the trip, I think on my final morning, I had a number of birds in much better light. Whilst the images above were taken at 1/250s (as usual just a monopod for ultimate flexibility), those below benefited from upwards of 1/2500s! Much better, but then of course you have harsh light to contend with. Never happy, that's the motto of most bird photographers I know....