OPINION (AN COLÚN): Much-loved birds soon to arrive from Africa

THE swallows and the cuckoos will soon be with us again. When we listen in a spiritual mood, these birds are emblematic of a purity at the heart of the universe, they are symbols of a higher force for good; and most sane-minded people feel a lift in their spirits when they hear their notes once more.

It's always a special moment for me when I hear my first cuckoo. Last year I heard it when I was walking high in the Slieve Blooms, near enigmatic Clear Lake. My heart gladdened as I heard its haunting, beautiful sound nearby. I ceased my upward climb and paused. Peering intently I caught a glimpse of the bird flying from sitka to sitka.

The day before I had seen my first swallow of the year, an equally special moment which lifts the heart. Hearing the swallow's song, seeing its flight, are gifts for the soul.

The cuckoo comes all the way from Sub-Saharan Africa to summer in Ireland, arriving here in April. Each season the female cuckoo can lay up to twenty eggs in different host nests. The chief host species for cuckoo eggs is the pipit. One of the pipit's Irish names reflects this role: "Giolla na cuaiche" - "servant of the cuckoo". (Giolla is a Middle Irish word).

In early Irish poetry the cuckoo appears as a symbol of summertime and beauty. In a poem about summer (mentioned in Lady Gregory's "Gods and Fighting Men") Fionn Mac Cumhaill mentions the cuckoo in beautiful terms: "The hardy, busy cuckoo calls - welcome noble summer." Therefore, people have been feeling exactly the same heart-warming, emotional response upon hearing the cuckoo for centuries. The celebrated environmentalist Dick Warner said there is no more hopeful and happy sound than the first spring call of the cuckoo. 

Famously, one of the incredible things about this bird is its navigational ability. After hatching and having been reared, the young are able to find their way back to Sub-Saharan Africa, despite not being shown the way.

In another Irish mythological tale, shot through with a sense of the unusual and the exotic, St Patrick makes a wooden bird cage, puts a cuckoo in it and gives it to a Greek princess as a present.

Swallows also arrive here in April, flying all the way from South Africa, an enormously long journey of 10,000 km. How they find their way back to the same nest in the same house, barn or shed, year after year remains a mystery.

Some say that the Irish for swallow, “fáinleog”, is derived from the Old Irish (c. 600 to 900AD) word “fán” which conveyed a meaning of “wandering / leaving / straying”. Others say that fáinleog originates from the Old Irish “ainnel” or “fannall”. Ainnel or fannall can be traced back to the Proto-Celtic (spoken about 1300 to 800BC) word “wesnālā” (swallow). Wesnālā is rooted in the Proto-Indo-European (spoken about 4500 to 2500BC) word “wesrū”, meaning "spring". Therefore, for many centuries the name for this beautiful bird has been directly related to the sense of it being a living embodiment, a symbol, of the season of spring. Spring naturally engenders in our hearts a sense of hope; therefore the swallow itself is a symbol of hope. To enjoy the presence of swallows is to recognise the presence of goodness in the universe. 

The bird's aerial acrobatics and speed is frequently mentioned in Irish mythology. In "The Cattle Raid of Cooley" Cuchulain's scythed chariot is said to move "as swiftly as a swallow." In the same tale Cuchulain meets and kills the warrior Fannell. It was said that Fannell got his name from the old Irish word for swallow (fannal or annal), because he could skim over the water "as lightly as a swallow."

Wordsworth wrote that the cuckoo creates an otherworldly atmosphere which lifts our spirits:

“O blessèd Bird! the earth we pace

Again appears to be

An unsubstantial, faery place;

That is fit home for Thee!”

Another Poet, John Clare, expertly described a moment he had with the bird:

“The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight,

With narrow pointed wings

Whews o’er our heads—soon out of sight

And as she flies she sings.”

Clare’s use of the word “whew” is masterful, linking our sharply exhaled breaths when expressing intense relief with the sound of the bird’s passage over our heads.

The Poet John Burroughs, captured the strange mood which the bird creates, a sense of nostalgia, yearning and sadness:

“Strange, reserved, unsocial bird,

Flitting, peering 'mid the leaves,

Thy lonely call a twofold word

Repeated like a soul that grieves—

"Kou-kou," "Kou-kou"—a solemn plaint

Now loud and full, now far and faint.”

In the Celtic tradition, cuckoos were considered to have the ability to travel between worlds. Because of this, they were often associated with death and the afterlife. The call of the cuckoo was said to have the power to summon the dead. For some people the bird's call is a reminder to look inward and be creative. One writer I read recently commented about this, “Encountering a cuckoo bird can be a very moving experience. Their calls are often hauntingly beautiful and they tend to be elusive and shy. If you encounter a cuckoo bird it may be a reminder to practise self-expression. Encounters with cuckoo birds tell us to get in touch with our creative side and to be vulnerable with others.”

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