I went in search of a wild Lynx and got the breathtaking shot I had hoped for.

A coat speckled with spots and smudges provides the perfect invisibility cloak — it is a ghost of the mountains: as quickly as one appears, it melts back into its surroundings. Luke Massey writes for Conjour about the Iberian lynx.

When you think of southern Spain, for most people the first thought is of the Costa del Sol, — cheap G&T’s, crowded beaches and sunburnt tourists. Around two million people a year visit the Costa del Sol, and my guess is that very few of them know that only a couple of hours drive north you can be in the rolling hills of the Sierra de Andujar Natural Park.

A landscape carpeted in aromatic rosemary, twisted holm oaks — their gnarled branches dripping with Old Man’s Beard — and giant granite boulders that jut out from the hillsides.

Overhead soar Spanish imperial eagles and black vultures, red deer graze the hillsides, but these aren’t the animals that make this habitat famous. This Mediterranean forest is home to an almost mythical beast, one of the rarest cats in the world: the Iberian lynx.

Smoky black sideburns frame a pair of striking green eyes that stare straight through you, and out from its ears curl a distinct pair of jet black tufts. A coat speckled with spots and smudges provides the perfect invisibility cloak — it is a ghost of the mountains: as quickly as one appears, it melts back into its surroundings.

I’ve been lucky enough to have countless encounters with this elusive feline. It’s become an annual pilgrimage of mine to head into the mountains to get a glimpse of, in my opinion, one of the most epic cats in existence.

Hitting the lynx jackpot

One of my most memorable wildlife encounters was with a pair of Iberian lynx. I’d been searching for the lynx for months. My camera trap had seen more lynx than me, I was beginning to lose hope.

It was dawn and I’d headed to one of my favoured spots, it was coming to the end of a long dry summer so I thought going to the water may bring me success.

I hiked up the hill to give a scan of the hillside and check a regular marking spot. On reaching the summit I was met by every naturalist’s dream: a moist, steaming pile of lynx poo…

There must have been a lynx within metres of me, I scanned around. Nothing. Every promising boulder lay empty, no cat sunning itself, every patch of grass looked normal, and the big giveaway — the local magpie population — remained silent.

With my current streak of bad luck I assumed I was minutes too late and began to head back down to the water. As I passed a bush I heard a noise, I stopped and I heard it again — a very cat-like miaow. It sounded like it was right next to me — surely not. I glanced to my left, nothing. Then into the bush to my right and there staring straight back at me was an Iberian lynx.

You can see the stunning image Luke was after [and got!] in the full version of this article via this link.

Have you ever seen a lynx in the wild? Tell us about it in the comments below!