On the way south in early May 2026, I stopped in southern Styria, where small mountains fold into narrow valleys and cold mountain streams cut their way through the rocks. The stream were I stopped had fast, turbulent flow, broken by small waterfalls, moss-covered rocks, and sometimes shadowed pools. I returned twice for photography sessions. The first was in the afternoon, moving slowly along the stream on foot, watching, listening, trying to find birds and other animals. Later, I set up simple, self-built hides along promising sections. The second session began early in the morning, just as the first light filtered through the trees. 

The main actors revealed themselves quickly: white-throated dippers. Several birds were active along certain stretches of the stream. Among them were juveniles—already capable of flights, but not fully independent. They followed their parents closely, sometimes begging, sometimes attempting to forage on their own. One of the most fascinating discoveries was the nest. It sat directly on a stone in the middle of the current, built from moss and constantly maintained. The birds were still adding material.

Besides that, the sound of song thrushes was quite dominant in the valley. Along the hiking path that leads through the valley, a few fire salamanders appeared.

Another highlight came with a family of grey wagtails. A young bird perched hesitantly on a rock, still dependent, calling softly until one of the parents arrived with food. The feeding was quick, almost mechanical, before the adult disappeared again.