The missed moment #3 – Iberian Lynx
The Iberian lynx (Lynx pardinus) once bordered on extinction in the wild due to hunting and habitat destruction. Restricted to the central-southern territory of the Iberian Peninsula, between Portugal and Spain, most of the remaining population is still concentrated in a few very small regions.
After twenty years of conservation efforts for the species, which was once critically endangered, the Iberian Lynx Census, published on May 2024, revealed that there are now more than 2000 individuals in the wild. This means that the species is no longer in as much danger, but it is still vulnerable until the populations are large enough to maintain genetic diversity.
The lack of rabbits due to the incidence of myxomatosis disease puts some populations on alert, as these animals make up more than 90% of the lynx’s diet. Another aggravating factor, whose impact is still uncertain, is climate change. In the region of Sierra de Andújar, where one of the main established populations of the Iberian lynx exists, there is increasing observation of the reduction in cold weather periods, favorable for lynx mating, and the increase in droughts, which harm the availability of food for rabbits and, consequently, for the lynx.
Therefore, it is still too early to say that the Iberian lynx is safe from extinction, but the population growth in recent years is encouraging. In Sierra de Andújar, where I spent about 300 hours photographing lynxes in 2023, there are now records of several females with cubs in 2024. This is a stark contrast to what I saw last year, and I am very pleased with the good news.
I hope it becomes increasingly easy to spot and photograph Iberian lynxes. During my journey in Andújar, already described earlier in the blog, I can say it was not easy at all. There were few encounters, and most were very brief.
In the third sighting, a female was hiding behind the rocks, typical of the landscape in Andújar. The wait was long to see her, but she only showed a small part of her head, from the eyes up. More waiting…
When she finally moved to leave the rock, the anticipation was immense, as she would pass through an small open pasture area and allow herself to be photographed. I thought I couldn’t miss this moment for anything. It would be a great photo. I decided not to rely on the equipment. With so many rocks, the probability of the autofocus failing was high. So, I set the lens focus to manual and pointed it to where I imagined she would come out because the moment would be very quick, and I couldn’t waste time waiting for the lens to focus.
But the random and unpredictable nature of nature played another trick on me. She came out closer than I imagined. I had time to take three photos with her in the frame. All three photos out of focus.
When I looked at the photos with great expectation, I was disappointed. I questioned my decision to make the mistake myself and not be able to blame the autofocus accuracy. What consoles me is that it’s better to lose the photo than to lose the species, and other opportunities to photograph her will come – and I hope very soon.