Which would you make bird of Britain?
Feathers are f lying in a competition to choose a new national symbol. So . . .
THe United States has the bald eagle, Zambia has the African fish eagle. France has a farmyard rooster, Antigua has the magnificent frigate bird, Cambodia the giant ibis, Honduras the scarlet macaw, India the peacock.
But what have we got? Britain hasn’t got a national bird. Why should we be deprived?
It is a question that bothered David Lindo, a birdwatcher and broadcaster who styles himself the Urban Birder. His mission in life is connecting ordinary people with our fabulous ordinary birds. Birds should be available to us all, after all. And so he put the idea of a national bird on his website, and that idea became a campaign. He wants the people of Britain to choose the species they want as national bird, and then petition the Government to make it official.
My own suggestion was a swallow, a bringer of both joy and summer with an irresistible mastery of the air and a sweet, two-syllable call, the muffled first syllable rising to a strong second: ter-peep! They use it to announce their arrival at their nesting site, looping into a barn or, at my home in Norfolk, the stables.
It’s a charming, jaunty sound as they hurtle beneath the eaves, looking as though they are about to crash into the wall before they slam on the brakes and alight on the nest as soft as a kiss.
And, on occasion, they can look recklessly brave. Above me one day, they played out one of those instantaneous wildlife dramas that catch you by surprise. Their calls were becoming stressed and urgent and I turned my eyes skyward.
There, menacing as a bomber, was a sparrowhawk, and an attack was in progress. But the sparrowhawk was no longer threatening the swallows — in fact, it was the other way round.
The bomber was plagued by three — no, four — gallant little fighter-planes swooping out of the sun, aiming for the head and ter-peeing fit to burst. The hawk was being outturned and outgunned — it headed off across the marsh.
The swallow is my favourite, not least because it also has a vivid link with Africa — where it spends its winters, flying off as our summers end — and the wider world beyond our shores. Yet, surprisingly, it has not even made the shortlist.
A national bird should give the people of that nation pleasure, making us feel mildly good about ourselves, and at the same time it should tell people from elsewhere mildly good things about us and the sort of people we think we are.
Mr Lindo has worked down to a shortlist of ten. So it’s your choice now: from the soppy and sentimental to the offbeat and boastful (and why not?) school of thought.
So here they are: the runners and riders, along with my assessment of each for their individual Britishness and their looks.
1. MUTE SWAN
A FINe and familiar bird, capable of looking magnificent at a distance yet they are oddly domestic when close up and demanding bread from small children. It has a certain distinction, as the world’s second heaviest flying bird (number one is the kori bustard of Africa).
Its royal connections — many of our swans belong to the Queen — are an advantage in some eyes, and certainly the bird has played its part in many a royal banquet in past centuries. But while the picture of elegance and romance — pairs of swans mate for life — a swan can also look wonderfully belligerent, like a man o’war in full sail, when performing its threat behaviour.
It has an unearned reputation for breaking the arms of fishermen, and can look rather off-puttingly superior, as though it were looking down its beak at the world.
Britishness: 8/10. Looks: 9/10
2. RED KITE
A LITTLe unexpected, this one. It probably makes the list because it is strongly associated with Wales, the bird’s traditional stronghold, and because they delight everyone who has ever driven down the M40 and seen the birds cruising nonchalantly over the central reservation. In the past 20 years, these fine birds of prey have become everybody’s bird.
They are also flying proof that good conservation works. They were brought back to england with a brilliant reintroduction scheme, showing that we can restore the beauties of our land when we have a mind to. They are wonderful fliers, masters of the glide. They tell us that we can restore the harms we have done to the wild world if we so choose.
Britishness: 7. Looks: 9
3. HEN HARRIER
A veRY unexpected one to be considered for national bird. They are here because of widespread anger and dismay at the illegal shooting of hen harriers on grouse moors: they are birds of prey and they will take grouse. This year, three pairs
bred in England: Defra says there is room for 300. They ask one big question: whose countryside is it anyway?
The males are as handsome a bird as you will find anywhere in the world, with an easy, floating flight. You don’t need to be a birdwatcher to have your day made by a hen harrier. After all, birds of prey bring drama wherever they turn up.
Britishness: 6. Looks: 10
5. BARN OWL
A BIRD mostly glimpsed at dawn and dusk, with the sinister qualities that cling to all creatures of the dark. The human- like face is pleasing to us, though it’s actually an adaptation for nightvision and pinpoint hearing.
Its voice is spooky and unbird-like — they have the nickname of screech owl.
Their flight is slow and quiet: they have evolved to have silenc- ers in their wings. With their erratic flights along hedges and ditches, they can sometimes resemble great, big moths.
Britishness: 6. Looks: 8
6. WREN
HOMELY, cheerful, indomitable: wrens are tiny, and full of energy and noise. They are generally found at knee - height in deep thickets, and have a song that seems impossibly loud for so small a bundle of feathers.
Wrens are humble, domestic, and, on the surface, at least, rather ordinary. Only when you pay them attention do you realise what extraordinary things they really are — often overlooked but ever so feisty.
Perhaps that’s the right sort of message one would want in a national bird.
Britishness: 8. Looks: 3
9. BLACKBIRD
A MALE blackbird is a handsome bird with a banana-yellow bill and coal-black feathers. He’s also as good a singer as you can find in this country: the great laidback flautist of the garden. Blackbirds are all about melody.
A lot of our winter blackbirds are Scandinavians taking advantage of our balmy climate. Blackbirds may be familiar, but their musical excellence is far from commonplace. They represent the extraordinary nature of everyday wildlife.
Britishness: 6. Looks: 7
10. BLUE TIT
THIS was once a bird that kept to itself in the tree-canopy.
But garden bird- feeders have lured it down to our level, and made it one of our most familiar birds. Its extraordinary acrobatics and pretty colouring mean it is now a garden favourite.
This intimate connection with the people who feed them gives us a message about the pleasure of looking after the wild world and the creatures that live in it.
Britishness: 8. Looks: 8
IT’S OVER TO YOU . . .
WELL, that’s the lot. Now it’s up to you to do the choosing.
The mischief-maker in me says hen harrier, the realist says robin, the lover of self- deprecation says puffin, the conservationist says red kite, the music-lover positively demands blackbird, the dark side of me wants barn owl, the adventurer wants to fly like a swan, the eyes want kingfisher, the sentimentalist says blue tit and the lover of the underdog prefers wren.
So in a way they’ve all won. Above all, it’s great to talk about birds, it’s great to enjoy birds, and it’s great to live in a country that has such wonderful birds in it.
We should celebrate that truth more often than we do. This vote is a lovely reminder to do just that.
TO CAST your vote for Britain’s national bird, go to votenationalbird.com