Echoes of a Gaelic Spring: The Cuckoo's Call and Conservation
Eilidh-Ann shares her personal memories and the decline of the cuckoo's call
Today, I heard my first cuckoo of 2024 and immediately my mind went to the same Gaelic words that it does every year:
O fàilte ort fhèin, a chuthag ghorm,
Led òran ceòlmhor milis!
'S e seirm do bheòil sa Chèitein òig
A thogadh bròn o m' chridhe
'S ro-bhinn leam t'fhuaim 's a' mhaduinn chéit',
'S tu air bàrr géig' 's an innis,
No 'm feasgar ciùin aig bun nan stùc
Nuair bhiodh an drùchd a' sileadh.
I learned this poem as a child of about 6 years old and recited it at our local Ardnamurchan Mod. Struggling to remember the pronunciation and expressions within the poem at the time, I had no idea that I would still easily remember each and every word decades later with the arrival of the cuckoo each year.
This first verse translates as:
O welcome, blue cuckoo,
With your sweet musical song!
Your singing in the young month of May
Lifts the sadness from my heart.
Your song is so sweet of a May morning,
And you sing it on the topmost branch,
Or on a calm afternoon on the rock of a hill,
While the dew is settling.
It is a local poem and song in my part of the world, written by Iain MacLachlainn (An Lighiche) "The Doctor" in Scottish Gaelic. Doctor MacLachlan was born in 1804 on the Rahoy Estate in Morvern, just 20 miles from where I sit writing this now.
There’s just something about the call of the Eurasian cuckoo (Cuculus canorus). The haunting melody of this elusive bird heralds the arrival of warmer days and new beginnings, and always gives me a sense of hope that winter is behind us and summer is on its way. And did you know it’s only the male bird that has that unique call? The call of the female is more like a “watery chuckle” – distinctive in itself, but not as noticeable as the “cuckoo” of the male.
The cuckoos nomadic lifestyle is even more intriguing than its song. Each year as the seasons shift and temperatures rise, cuckoos embark on an epic voyage spanning thousands of miles. From their wintering grounds in Africa, they navigate across continents guided by instinct and celestial cues until they reach their breeding grounds in Europe. It’s a journey filled with peril, yet one that showcases the resilience and adaptability of these remarkable birds.
And of course, its not just the cuckoos incredible migratory journey that make it such a fascinating bird; its also its quirky reproductive habits. Unlike most birds that build a nest and raise their young, the cuckoo adopts a cunning strategy of brood parasitism. The female quietly lays her eggs in the nests of other bird species, fully relying on them to raise her offspring. Dunnocks, meadow pipits and reed warblers are often the victims of this ‘cuckolding’ behaviour. While their young are being raised by another bird, adult cuckoos are free to leave the UK much earlier than other migratory species, and most leave for the return journey to Africa during June. The young cuckoos don’t leave until a few weeks later when they are fully fledged, finding their own way to Africa with no parent bird to guide them – just incredible!
As a child, I heard the call of the cuckoo a lot. So much so, that it was a kind of background noise to summer that I didn’t really take much notice of. I remember camping as a teenager one summer - actually in Morvern and not too far from what would have been Doctor MacLachlans home - and it felt like the cuckoo ‘cuckoo’d’ ALL night. Stumbling out of the tent rather bleary eyed the next morning, I remember grumbling to myself that I never wanted to hear that noise again!
And yet now I realise it’s a sound that I am so very privileged to hear. In many parts of the country, the call of the cuckoo has fallen silent. Even here in the west Highlands, it’s a sound we don’t hear anywhere near as much as we used to. Sadly the cuckoo – that bringer of Summer - has fallen victim to the pressures of climate change, habitat loss and a decline of its host species, all of which threaten to silence its song forever.
The sad reality is that in the last 30 years, the number of cuckoos has decreased by 30% and it is currently Red-listed as a Bird of Conservation Concern in the UK.
But there is hope amidst the uncertainty. Conservation efforts aimed at protecting vital habitats and raising awareness about the plight of the cuckoo are gaining momentum. The British Trust for Ornithology has been satellite tracking cuckoos since 2011: Cuckoo Tracking Project | BTO - British Trust for Ornithology and it is a fascinating journey to watch “live” as the birds leave Africa and head for our shores each year.
tYou can support the BTO with this Tracking Project by Sponsoring a Cuckoo and getting regular updates on its progress.
As we marvel at the adventures of the cuckoo and reflect on its place in the intricate web of life, let us also heed the call to action. Let’s work to preserve the habitats that sustain this iconic bird and ensure that future generations can continue to be enchanted by its haunting song. For in the call of the cuckoo, we find a reminder of the interconnectedness of all living things and the responsibility we share to safeguard the wonders of the natural world.
Eilidh-Ann Phillips has been a countryside ranger in the wild, captivating expanse of West Lochaber since 1996. Now, as the High Life Highland Senior Ranger for South Highland, she is integral to a vibrant network that connects communities and schools to the nature, inspiring a collective appreciation for wildlife and heritage. Under her guidance, a passionate team of rangers across South Highland is dedicated to conserving the region's stunning beauty and wilderness, nurturing the next generation of guardians for the area’s breathtaking landscapes.
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