The island of of Malta, the smaller islands of Gozo and Comino, and a few even smaller uninhabited islets make up the Maltese archipelago. It sits in the centre of the Mediterranean, just south of Sicily and a couple of hundred kilometres north of Libya. On Malta, the sprawling urban cities and towns rub shoulders with the remnants of natural limestone geology, and evidence of the island’s several thousand-year occupation by people can be seen across the entire landscape.
Malta has excellent natural history resources, and everywhere we went we saw signs pertaining to the wildlife of the area and the preservation of wild areas, forest fire safety information, and protected areas were well marked. There were many signs with information about specific species as well, which was a fantastic resource for Maltese common names. In addition, while looking for information about specific species the website maltawildplants.com was very useful, and is where I got most of the Maltese names from that I didn’t see on information signs.
Nonetheless, the conditions for searching for invertebrates can be difficult, primarily because there are so few areas which are undisturbed. The nature reserves are generally sandwiched between towns and cities, and thus concentrate heavy footfall from walkers and dog owners. Instructions preventing disturbance to natural areas sometimes also stipulate that no rocks or logs should be turned and visitors should not leave the paths; in order to further deter vandals and poachers several nature reserves are also monitored by CCTV, sometimes heavily so. This quite involved approach is presumably necessary to prevent the island’s natural areas from being completely succeeded by the concrete jungle, but nonetheless it does feel a little strange.
The island faces the usual struggles, including illegal hunting and developers and unscrupulous landowners threatening natural areas, but the overall impression is that in general, the people of Malta care deeply for their natural history and are not only aware but very proud of their native and endemic species. It was quite refreshing to see evidence of this virtually wherever we went.
ST. PAUL’S BAY AND SALINA NATURE RESERVE
We first walked a few kilometres from St. Paul’s Bay onto a nearby coastal area of limestone pavement, interspersed with patches of damp reddish soil. Scrub vegetation comprised of a mixture of native and introduced flora covered this in certain places where the soil had built up. Limestone rocks which were lying on top of or semi-buried in this matrix were quite productive. The calcareous substrate had allowed vast populations of snails to proliferate, so the ground was abundant with shells of all different sizes, ranging from the common garden and decollate snails to smaller and much more unusual species. The first of these was a group of thirty or so amber-coloured snails with translucent glassy shells, adults and juveniles sheltering together. These were Ferussacia folliculum, primarily a western Mediterranean species. We found one that was being eaten by a glow-worm larva. The Maltese Glow-worm / Musbieħ il-Lejl (Lampyris pallida) is endemic to the island and seemed relatively widespread, although some sources list it as endangered due to its very limited range.
Above: Lampyris pallida and Ferussacia folliculum
The second species was a land winkle, sporting an operculum; Tudorella melitense, a potential endemic (previously thought to be a subspecies of T. sulcata). Like their cousins in the genus Pomatias, they were very shy and would slam their opercula shut in a second at the slightest hint of disturbance.
Above: Tudorella melitense
The third species was a true Maltese endemic, with a rather peculiar appearance – Muticaria macrostoma. Their shells were elongate and strongly ridged, tapering to a point which was often decollated; at the other end the aperture opened into a round flattish lip, inside of which was a tooth-shaped protuberance; this housed the clausilium, another type of door with which the snail can keep in moisture and shut out intruders (such as the glow-worm larvae).
Above: Muticaria macrostoma
Various other creatures were present around here, including weevils of the genus Brachycerus, Mediterranean Recluse (Loxosceles rufescens), Pentodon bidens, and various bristletails of the genera Ctenolepisma and Neoasterolepisma. The latter of these tended to inhabit ants’ nests, and had a bright gold lustre all over. Possibly the most interesting invertebrate under any of these rocks were several Diplurans of the family Japygidae, which are equipped with a small earwig-like pincer on the end of their abdomens used for catching prey and presumably defence. According to the Current State of knowledge of the Maltese Non-Marine Fauna (2003) there are only two diplurans recorded from the Maltese islands: Monojapyx simplex and Parajapyx isabellae. The two are fairly distinct from one another, but I didn’t manage to get a close enough picture of the pincers to see the distinguishing features.
Above: Brachycerus, Loxosceles, Pentodon, Ctenolepisma and Japygidae
Salina nature reserve was an interesting little site comprised of scrub and stone sandwiched between St. Paul’s Bay and the main road, bisected by the estuary and a patchwork of salt pans. These salt pans attract a multitude of bird species, including several species of gull and flamingos, while the scrub and woodland host chameleons and all manner of invertebrates. The interpretation centre was a nice educational facility, with the best thing (in my opinion) a charming little curiosity cabinet full of completely un-prepped dead specimens that looked to have been found on the reserve itself. While out and about on the reserve we met with a few Eyprepocnemis plorans (Lamenting Grasshopper / Ġurat tad-dlil), the tenebrionid Alphasida grossa subsp. melitana (Ħanfusa tal-fekruna) and two familiar bugs: Spilostethus pandurus and Lygaeus creticus.
Above: Eyprepocnemis plorans, Lygaeus creticus, Spilostethus pandurus, Alphasida grossa subsp. melitana and Friar's Cowl / Garni tal-Pipa (Arisarum vulgare)
Here was also where we saw the greatest concentration of Maltese Wall-lizards / Gremxula ta' Malta (Podarcis filfolensis) still a little groggy from winter rest.
Our only night foray to Salina produced a cricket I had never seen before, but recognised instantly: a tree cricket (Oecanthus sp.) singing away from the top of a grass tuft; a strange-looking elongate cricket with teardrop-shaped wings and slender legs. Males produce their song by raising their teardrop-shaped wings to an angle of nearly 90 degrees from their body and vibrating them, producing a long but not particularly loud trill.
XEMXIJA AND MISTRA
One of the most unique aspects of Malta’s landscape is how incredibly packed the island is with evidence of human settlement through time. Some consider the island a city-state, and indeed it is extremely urbanised in many places. The extent of this through time becomes even more apparent if you walk anywhere outside the cities – there doesn’t seem to be a single piece of ground which hasn’t been anthropogenically altered. The nature reserves and natural areas are almost always situated on archaeological sites, and since every dry stone wall and terrace since time immemorial has been constructed in the same yellowish limestone, it almost becomes difficult to establish where the ancient walls end and the restored or modern ones begin. This heavy human influence has led to the sad but inevitable introduction of non-native species, many of which are all too common to see. Easily the most abundant plant at this time of year was Oxalis pes-caprae (African Wood-sorrel or Bermuda Buttercup) a native of South Africa and a major pest species elsewhere. It completely dominated every verge, terrace, and empty piece of ground with little room for competition, and is known for being exceedingly difficult to eradicate.
Above: Eobania vermiculata, Decollate Snail / Trabju (Rumina decollata) and Papillifera papillaris
The Xemxija Heritage Trail takes you through a terraced site which has been used since the Neolithic, encompassing tombs, temples, cart ruts and a Roman apiary, the latter of which was fascinating indeed – the first set we came across was a set of 2000+ year old Punico-Roman semi-detached apiaries, with one being somewhat reconstructed to include the original terracotta backings to the high-rise bee accommodation visible from the outside.
Malta’s history has always revolved around honey production. It is seen in everything, down to the name of the island itself which, through numerous re-translations, comes from the ancient Greek word Melítē (place of honey, sweetness). Malta’s honeybees (Maltese name Naħla tal-għasel) are an endemic subspecies, Apis mellifera ruttneri, more closely related to the African honeybee lineage rather than the European one, and became separate after Malta was cut off from Sicily at the end of the last ice age. Various introductions of non-native honeybees mean that I had no idea which subspecies I was photographing, but there may have been a native subspecies among them.
Around this site were various common insects – Oxythyrea funesta and Tropinota hirta, and a large carpenter bee (Xylocopa sp.) visited the yellow flowers around the patches of exposed limestone.
Left: Oxythyrea funeata, right Tropinota hirta
Mistra Bay is a tiny, peaceful little bay with a stony beach and – in winter at least – an interesting strandline. Walking along this produced a necklace shell or two and a number of strange balls of fibre which I recognised under the name ‘nun’s farts’, but hadn’t knowingly seen before. They are in fact the dead stems and parts of Posidonia oceanica, a type of seagrass, which are moulded by light wave action into tightly woven balls.
Mistra is surrounded by limestone headlands and semi-natural vegetation, with lots of loose rocks. I discovered the bleached remains of a hedgehog, presumably the North African Hedgehog / Qanfud (Atelerix algirus).
We also found several Ocellated Skinks / Xaħmet l-art (Chalcides ocellatus) sheltering in the mud under stones.
One of the more interesting animals I saw at this site was also one of the smallest, well out of reach of my camera – a tiny particle which seemed at first glance to be a moving bead of silver. It was a spider, Cyclosa insulana, with an ovate and slightly flattened abdomen of the most pure, reflective silver colour I have ever seen – it would be virtually impossible to achieve that lustre on jewellery with a polishing cloth. Members of the genus Cyclosa are known for decorating their webs with either debris or a silk stabilimenta, typically in a circular shape.
Other species we saw at this site included Bryony Ladybird (Henosepilachna argus) feeding on Squirting Cucumber (Ecballium elaterium) which grew abundantly in the verges, and the weevil Lixus pulverulentus.
Above: Henosepilachna argus, Ecballium elaterium, Xysticus sp., Dodder (Cucusta sp.) and Lixus pulverulentus
BUSKETT FOREST
Prior to our first visit to Buskett, we walked up another short trail over the road, which led to the Ghar il-Kbir cave complex, a set of eight or so caves set over two distinct ‘floors’ which has been fairly extensively modified, and according to some sources was inhabited by people until the 1800s. It was a fascinating area, virtually invisible unless you were close to the entrance, and would probably have been quite cosy inside with a few furnishings and a fire going.
Buskett Forest is situated in the grounds of the Verdala Palace, the summer residence of the President. It is a square building which sits atop a ridge at the top of a small hill, the south side of which comprises Buskett Forest (or Buskett Gardens) running down from the top into a small valley, with semi-dry streams and watercourses. The vegetation is deciduous woodland and scrub, interspersed with some casually landscaped groves of citrus trees. The forest is criss-crossed with numerous narrow footpaths and roads for vehicles, and is another mixture of stone walls of various ages and semi-natural vegetation. It is decidedly cooler here than out on the exposed limestone and in the scrub, and it must certainly be a relief during the heat of summer to wander in the shade.
There was a shallow carpet of leaf litter in places dotted with smooth rocks, under which were numerous tiny pseudoscorpions as well as true scorpions, which are apparently Euscorpius sicanus for Malta. Some were so small they were virtually invisible against the undersides of the rocks.
Above: half-grown Euscorpius and pseudoscorpion (Neobisium sp.)
MOSTA AND CHADWICK LAKES
We visited both of these sites in one day. In the middle of the small city of Mosta and crossed by a large bridge is the valley of Wied il-Għasel (Honey Valley), a moderately shallow gorge flanked by cliff faces of pale and orangey limestone. At one end of the valley is the small Chapel of St Paul the Hermit, cut from the same stone and occupying a large shallow cave. We walked underneath the bridge and down the valley, stopping en route to look closer at the chapel. It was very peaceful, and we saw fewer people here, although that may have been because it was early in the morning. We saw our first Painted Frog / iż-Żrinġ (Discoglossus pictus) here, looking slightly worse for wear.
The cliff faces were full of small caves and curious little holes, and on the higher faces there were pigeons flying in and out, nesting. Some of these small caves were nearly inaccessible unless you used ropes or were an extremely ballsy climber, and it was tantalising to wonder what could be found inside them if you were somehow able to make it up there.
Above: in picture 4, you can see a rope suspended between the cliff faces - this bit is part of a rock climbing activity site.
Chadwick Lakes was a strange area. Half the length of the several kilometres of rivers, streams and small lakes is not a designated nature reserve and the other half is. It was therefore slightly ironic that the area designated as a nature reserve was significantly less productive during our particular visit.
It was also bizarre to see CCTV cameras mounted on poles approximately every fifteen feet, complimenting the multitude of signs warning people against leaving the path, treading on any vegetation, touching anything and so on… I understand the reasons behind such protections, and also the repairs to dams to allow greater agricultural water availability, but it did seem a little questionable that the site is also described as a ‘sensitive ecological area’ after being subjected to such extensive modification.
The highlight of this walk was seeing several oil beetles (Meloe tuccius) ambling around on the road – since there was fairly frequent traffic we saved a couple just in time, releasing them on the flat vegetated land behind the stone walls so they wouldn’t get stuck.
CRUSTACEANS OF FRESHWATER ROCKPOOLS
Since the island has numerous limestone plateaus and pock-marked ground, the formation of freshwater rockpools which dry up in summer creates a habitat for several unusual species of crustacean. Tom managed to find the first one by accident while having a quick look in a shallow pool – the clam-shrimp Cyzicus tetracerus, with the Maltese name Gamblu tal-Qoxra. We were mesmerised by this little pool full of these wonderful creatures, which we initially took to be giant ostracods. In fact they are branchiopods, relatives of the water flea Daphnia, which up close they do look somewhat like an enormous version of. These are specialists of the temporary pools, with a life cycle that can withstand the total drying of the environment. Adults live for a couple of weeks, breeding and producing cysts which remain in the sediment until the next rainy season.
These environments in Malta are also famous for other Branchiopoda, namely the Triops / Gamblu tal-elmu (Triops cancriformis) and Fairy Shrimp / Gamblu tal-għadajjar (Branchipus schaefferi).
I decided to attempt to find a tadpole shrimp in one morning. Triops cancriformis is a rare creature, which people allegedly spend a long time looking for to no avail. Like the clam shrimps, their appearance is highly seasonal, awakening with the autumn and winter rains and living for only a few weeks, while the temporary pools are full. Something I was ignorant of until looking for the information was exactly how large this species gets: some sources quoted a maximum body length of 11 centimetres – larger than the frogs we had seen. This concept was extremely exciting, although I had no idea when the last consistent rain had been and thus if there were any Triops about, I didn’t know how large they would be.
We arrived at a promising location about mid-morning, when the heat of the day was just beginning to warm the landscape, and found several temporary ponds which looked promising. One of these was quite large, and brimming with small aquatic plants. Small dark tadpoles were swimming about, presumably of Discoglossus. It didn’t take long to spot a Fairy Shrimp, and once our eyes were suitably adjusted they were everywhere. I was surprised firstly at the large size of them (a couple of centimetres long) and secondly at how many there were – probably a hundred or more in the pool we were looking in. They were bold, occasionally chasing the tadpoles and sometimes gathering together in groups.
We found and examined several more pools in the area, but only came across more Branchipus and numerous tadpoles. After an hour or so, and as we were about to make our way to a different site, I thought we should give the original pool a go as it was the largest and seemed the most promising. This time, I examined everything that swam past where I was kneeling, on a small projection of land going into the water. Looking closely, scrutinising each creature as it swam past, my patience was eventually rewarded by one swimmer which bumbled quickly into view and settled on the muddy pool floor in front of me.
Not quite the fish-sized beast I had been looking for among the vegetation; this had to be the smallest Triops ever, under a centimetre in length and almost translucent. Size was of no importance because it was perfect in every way: the epitome of successful design, an enduring physiology that has remained unchanged for 200 million years. It was thrilling to see one, but attempting to take a photograph was another matter entirely; the ephemeral life in these pools is set to fast-forward, and time wasting is not a concept. It was peculiar to imagine that this thriving miniature metropolis of movement and colour would in a couple of months no longer exist; all the organisms will have fed, grown, reproduced, and died as the pools emptied and the sun warmed the landscape for spring and summer. The eggs and cysts of each species will remain in the dried mud, patient in the knowledge that the inevitable autumn rains will return to set the cycle in motion again, as they have always done.
Insects
• Alphasida grossa subsp. melitana
• Eyprepocnemis plorans
• Lampyris pallida
• Lygaeus creticus
• Oecanthus sp.
• Pentodon bidens
• Spilostethus pandurus
Other Invertebrates
• Branchipus schaefferi
• Cyzicus tetracerus
• Eobania vermiculata
• Euscorpius sicanus (probably)
• Ferussacia folliculum
• Loxosceles rufescens
• Muticaria macrostoma
• Triops cancriformis
• Tudorella melitense
Reptiles and Amphibians
• Maltese Wall Lizard (Podarcis filfolensis)
• Ocellated Skink (Chalcides ocellatus)
• Painted Frog (Discoglossus pictus)