Siskins and horse talk in Cork

COUNTRY MATTERS

GLIDING, dipping, wafting in the updrafts, the lone dark bird was lord of all it surveyed of the small valleys and coniferhillsides, the only sign of possible human presence being some barely visible farm buildings that appeared to be deserted.

On one high outpost, clumsy cream-colouredwindmill blades turned in silent, slow monotony. Near reedbeds on boggy bottom ground, with two hounds pointing for snipe, I opened my mouth to shout at the soaring, croaking bird, “ Raven, seek thy brother,” an exhortation of desert nomads who see the dark presence as an omen of impending doom and wish it to move on its way.

The ground soakage was a clue to a cluster of low buildings higher up from which drifted downwards a certain odour with the stillness being broken by occasional highpitched squeals. This piggery — a factory of living creatures — was far removed from regular human traffic, a couple of parked vehicles being the only indication of man’s presence somewhere within. If we heed the prophesies of some agricultural economists, timber will grow on this site in time as the products of county-sized American pig farms swamp the EU and our pigmy piggeries collapse or become specialised organic units producing a high- quality — and highly priced — product in order to survive.

Blotches of mist still clung mysteriously to parts of the valley, some like cloud mass hanging on treetops, a Tuatha de Danaan rearguard action on the territory as the raven sloped off! Other birds were busy in the fields and along a narrow road — mostly song thrushes, pied and occasional grey wagtails, and a small, greenish-yellow bird, aerial skipping along in small groups, keeping ahead of man and dogs, hitting on tree branches, overhead wires, gates, fences, seed and insect hunting.

Green finches or siskins? The latter, according to the BBC Birdwatchers’ Handbook, breeds here in coniferous woods, winters among alders and birches and is also joined at this time by many compatriots from northern Europe. The naturalist David Cabot writes that the afforestation of recent years has brought about the rapid expansion of the species, the bird being particularly abundant in Donegal, Fermanagh, Galway, Mayo, Cork, Kerry and Wicklow where the older plantations are preferable.

Apart from the winter visitors, there are about 60,000 resident pairs, although BirdWatch Ireland’s recent annual garden bird survey revealed siskins falling to the bottom of its chart of the most frequently occurring species at 22nd place. In ’ 03/’04 they were 19th, and ranked 17th in ’ 02/’03. So why? One reason could be last winter’s mildness — siskins like the high forests and only venture down to gardens and lower ground when the weather gets colder.

In siskin country I chanced upon what one dairy farmer called a “cheval”, a big neighbourly gathering of people, horses, horse- boxes, fourwheeldrives, and assumed they had gathered for a hunt. This was at a remote crossroads somewhere between Clonakilty and Dunmanway. I was wrong. Trotting races, then, as I spied a sulkey or two on the roadside? It seemed not. Could this be but a social gathering with, perhaps, a bit of horse-trading thrown in?

Cheval is French for horse — I admit to eating it once! Chevachees are “expeditions on horseback”, according to the OED. Perhaps this is the correct description. Then there is chavel, groups of enthusiasts “ talking wildly, chattering, mumbling etc” — that’s the OED again — chaving the chaff from the grain. I think we should be told!