A walk on the wildside

TALL TALES ABOUT MAGPIES

There are many people who have to see to believe and many who do not have time for the old believe that Swans mate for life, some also believe that a Woodcock does not carry its little chicks in flight, and there are even some who do not believe in a Rooks Parliament, where a misbehaving bird is put on trial in front of his peers. Well, these people are very unlikely to believe in a Magpies Wedding, o ye of little faith who have to see to believe.

It is well-known that noisy, argumentative magpies often gather in flocks prior to choosing their mates, this is believed to be a form of communal courtship. I was told this story many years ago by a man named Bill Burke, who when he retired from his farm, came to live in Cork Road, with his wife, Annie and their old sheepdog, Ban. They lived across the road from our house, where he kept the most beautiful garden, he was the man who grafted a rose tree into the fork of a Beech tree in Glenabo Wood, where it thrived for many years.

He spent much of his time walking in the countryside, he had a particular love for walking on what was at that time called The Grassy Road, and it was here, one day in Spring, many years ago that he witnessed the

Magpies Wedding. More than twenty magpies had gathered in a stand of old Oak trees in a field by the roadside, a kaleidoscope of black and white, that contrasted with greenery of the trees. The birds were noisy and quarrelsome, hopping among the branches, Bill Burke described their harsh shrieking as being ear-piercing.

Then for a few minutes there was silence, as a pair of magpies alighted on the very top of the tree, they began to preen each others feathers, all the time making gentle, croaking noises to each other. While this pre-nuptial service was going on all the other birds sat in silence, this is very unusual, as magpies when gathered together are notorious for chattering. Bill Burke too was silent, he knew he was watching something which very few humans were privileged to witness, a Magpie Wedding.

The ritual went on for over ten minutes, then the married pair took off over the fields, followed by a long procession of their brothers and sisters, all in pairs, until they were lost to sight. Bill Burke had no doubt that he had witnessed a Magpies Wedding. I often wondered about this story, and looking through my collection of Nature books, I could find no reference to such an occurrence.

Then, one day while looking through some old newspapers, I found a tattered page from the Daily Telegraph of February 13th 1999 and in the Nature Notes page by Robert Burton there was an account of a Magpie Wedding, almost exactly the same as the one described to me by Bill Burke all those years ago.

The ways of nature are very strange, beyond our understanding, I regret now that I didn’t listen more to the wonderful stories of Bill Burke. He is commemorated in a wonderful way by the crocuses which he planted along the bank of the river at Gamers Island over fifty years ago.

The full might of the Blackwater in flood ravages the bank of the river here, just above The Rock, tearing the roots of trees out of the ground, but still, every Spring, the little purple crocuses poke up their little heads, what greater memorial could a man have. One Sunday afternoon, last March, while walking along the bank of the river by The Rock, I met a couple out having a stroll, they remembered Bill Burke, so I showed them the crocuses, like me, they were enchanted by the flowers and the story of the man who planted them.