We were sorry to leave the countryside but it helped that we were going to such a nice city. The old central area within Tallinn is remarkably well preserved with great walled towers of the medieval town combined with elegant streets and beautiful buildings from later centuries. As we approached through the suburbs we passed a large park which encompassed a stadium often used for performances by traditional choirs on national holidays. Choral singing is very popular in Estonia and midsummer night is one of the biggest festival days in the country with many choirs performing. But it wasn’t the stadium that caught our attention. Dozens of large motorcycles were parked in rows within the park grounds. Our guide realised that this week the city was playing host to an annual get together of Harley Davidson owners. Over the next few days we would often see groups of denim and leather clad bikers strolling through the narrow cobblestoned streets or a line of powerful bikes moving across the town square but generally all seemed well behaved though the local chapter of Estonian Hell’s Angels looked like the sort of people you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of. The ancient buildings played host to a healthy population of swifts and every evening flocks of them would screech above the narrow streets. We were pleasantly surprised that many of the sparrows within the city were in fact Tree Sparrows rather than House Sparrows which you’d normally expect in towns.
  
   I’d read about the Paljassaare nature reserve on the outskirts of the city on a peninsula which stretched up into the Gulf of Finland and a short taxi ride took us to the area just beside the coast. There were areas of wetland with swaying reedbeds on either side of the path and Nightingales sang from the dense undergrowth. Marsh Harriers soared over the reeds before floating down, probably to nest sites. Then we heard a low booming sound often described as like blowing over the top of a bottle, a sound which can carry for miles, the unmistakable call of the Bittern. Amember of the heron
family, bitterns are rare visitors to Ireland but thankfully much commoner in wetlands around Europe while Britain’s population is slowly recovering. I assured my companion that although you’d hear them easily enough the chance of seeing one was incredibly unlikely, their plumage forming perfect camouflage among the reeds as they feed on small reptiles and fish. Acouple of minutes later as I was trying to photograph a Willow Warbler singing from a tree she called me to say that those birds I’d been talking about were flying. I ran up to her from where we could see four bitterns milling about in the air! It looked like one nesting pair were having an altercation with another pair. So much for my assurance that we weren’t likely to see any, but I was very happy to be proven wrong. The only drawback to the reserve were the very active mosquitoes. Is it my imagination or are the mosquito bites you get during the day much more irritating and painful than the ones you get at night? Anyhow, I got plenty of bites but undoubtedly the abundance of insects is a great food source for the birdlife. Sedge Warblers and Reed Buntings were the most easily seen birds as
they obligingly often sing clinging to a reed in full view.

   We walked down a path which ran beside the coastline and saw a flotilla of ducks moving gracefully across the sea. I realised they were Goosanders, many more then I’d ever seen together before. Unlike their close relative the Merganser which can be seen in Dublin Bay, Goosanders are relatively scarce in Ireland with Wicklow being a stronghold for this secretive bird. If you ever get to Glendalough in the early hours before the tourists start to arrive you might be lucky enough to see Gooseanders on the lower lake before they move to quieter areas of the Avoca River. Many years ago I was very excited to see three pairs together at one time but here on the coast of Estonia we were looking at a flock of about twenty five birds. I don’t know if they were non reeding birds or an extended family, it looked like a even mix of male and females but they were a very impressive sight on the mirror calm sea.Further down the path we spotted, singing from the top of a tree one of the most colorful of European birds, the Scarlet Rosefinch. The male indeed lives up to his name in his breeding plumage, a colour you’d expect to find in the tropics rather than northern Europe. Back in the city we walked up to one of the highest points to look out over the city at dusk. Perched high on a spire a blackbird’s song rang out over the city as it might have done five hundred years ago.

Blackbird singing above Tallinn
Photo : M.Ryan