Bird Watching mini-mag October 20

BIRDS IN BRITISH CULTURE
ARTERRA PICTURE LIBRARY/ALAMY*
NATURE PICTURE LIBRARY/ALAMY
OWLS
Owls have long been thought of as birds
of ill omen – Shakespeare uses them
as such in several of his plays. It’s not
hard to understand why – their
largely nocturnal habits and their
eerie, far-carrying calls are to blame,
with both Tawny and Barn Owls being
thought of in this way. The latter’s
all-white underside led to it being
known as the ‘ghost owl’ at times, and
it’s tempting to think that at least some
ghost sightings over the years must have
been down to the sight of one of these
buoyant, silent hunters. Short-eared and
Long-eared Owls seem to have slipped
below the radar, while the Little Owl is, of
course, a recent arrival, so has only just
started to seep into British culture. But it
may, ultimately, be responsible for that
association with wisdom – it was the symbol
of the Greek goddess Athena (Roman goddess
Minerva), among whose gifts was wisdom.
Interestingly, the fact that our folklore contains
no trace of the Eagle Owl is held to be a reason why
the UK’s small breeding population is considered to
be derived from escaped falconers’ birds – such a
fearsome über-predator would surely have surrounded
itself with all sorts of associations, as in Norway for
example, where it’s considered a bird of great ill omen (not
least for its choice of prey).
IT WAS THE SYMBOL OF THE GREEK
GODDESS ATHENA, AMONG WHOSE
GIFTS WAS WISDOM
WREN
As we’ve mentioned in these pages before,
the tiny but very common and widespread
Wren (Britain’s most numerous bird, at
most times) was once known as the King
of Birds, and was the centre of a number of
traditions focused around St Stephen’s Day,
now better known to us as Boxing Day.
These involved it being hunted –
originally for real, later, symbolically.
There are a number of theories as to why,
based on Celtic mythology and
Christianity (the Wren is said to have
betrayed St Stephen), but perhaps the
reason our ancestors fastened on it
originally is that it is so ubiquitous, and
(despite its size) has a habit of making
itself known with its very loud voice.
NIGEL PYE/ALAMY*
NATURE PICTURE LIBRARY/ALAMY*
NIGHTJAR
It might seem strange, nowadays,
given that even a lot of keen birders
may never have seen a Nightjar, but
it’s a species that has accumulated a
lot of folk beliefs, and folk names to go
with them. Many are variations on
‘goatsucker’ (the meaning of the bird’s
genus), and refer to the old belief
(dating back to Ancient Greece) that
they sucked the udders of goats. This
probably arose because the birds
would be regularly seen in close
proximity to livestock, because of the
insects attracted by the animals.
Those beliefs, and the bird’s
mysterious, elusive nature, made it a
favourite of poets and writers through
the centuries, from Wordsworth and
his ‘dor-hawk’ to Dylan Thomas in his
poem Fern Hill.
Strangest of all, though, is the
northern name ‘gabble-ratchet’, which
links the Nightjar to the pagan legend
of the Wild Hunt, presumably simply
because of its nocturnal activities and
churring song.
IT MIGHT
SEEM STRANGE,
NOWADAYS, GIVEN
THAT EVEN A LOT
OF KEEN BIRDERS
MAY NEVER HAVE
SEEN A NIGHTJAR, BUT
IT’S A SPECIES THAT HAS
ACCUMULATED A LOT OF
FOLK BELIEFS, AND FOLK
NAMES TO GO WITH THEM
GARY TACK/ALAMY*
ROBIN
No British bird is more closely connected
to us than the Robin – polls have
repeatedly named it our favourite, or
national, bird, we send Christmas cards
with its image on, and gardeners treasure
their habit of hopping around down by our
feet as we dig. Until the Victorian era, it
was generally known as the Redbreast, or
Ruddock, due to its ruddy breast, in the
same way as the Dunnock was named for
its grey-brown (or dun) plumage. At some
stage, though, the personal name Robin
became attached (in the same way as the
Jenny Wren), and the birds became linked
to Christmas because Victorian postmen
wore red coats, and when Christmas cards
became fashionable, Robins were often
depicted as postmen.
But the Robin’s habit of singing even in
midwinter must also have played a part in
making its association with the season,
and it seems that in Britain it’s always
been considered unlucky to harm a Robin
(see the nursery rhyme Who Killed Cock
Robin?), in contrast to the situation on the
continent, where they have been among
the songbirds hunted as food.
Their tameness here, perhaps, is a
consequence of the affection that we have
for them. Again, on the continent, they are
often shy woodland birds, staying well
away from gardens.
MALCOLM SCHUYL/ALAMY*
28 October 2020
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