As mentioned here before, an Irishwoman living in Switzerland, who has an interest in birds, visited a few months ago a nature park in the Berry area of France, not too far from Poitiers, known as the park of a thousand lakes, even though not all of them are of great dimensions, and there for the second time in her life (the first time was on the Rhone, presumably not far from her Geneva home) heard the male song of the bird which is so well written into our literature and history: the bittern. To her it sounded like someone blowing into an empty bottle - but very loud. It carries far. Others hear it as a foghorn. It is generally referred to as a booming, but like no other boom. How deprived we are can be seen from twin books, one in French the other English, print and illustrations matching exactly, page by page. The Birds of Britain and Europe by Heinsel, Fitter and Parslow is a Collins publication, softback. Maps in the book show that the bittern breeds widely in Europe, and in some cases not only breeds but is present throughout the whole year: in France, Southern Spain, parts of the Balkans, Greece and into Asia Minor. In eastern Europe, it breeds but is present in summer only, to judge by this map. In Ireland, as we know, it is an occasional visitor. A brother, you may remember, came across one down in the south-west in the late 'Forties.
This arises from Michael Viney's welcome to a new book by Gordon D'Arcy, Ireland's Lost Birds. Fortunately there is also a chapter "Birds Gained" to set against one "Tomorrow's Lost Birds?". He takes a balanced view of what might have been, with the observation: "The memory of birds that used to be, whether accurately recalled or perceived, seems often to be a part of the package of growing up . . . Perception, particularly in retrospect, is often as important as fact." But D'Arcy, fairly and evenly, is aware that human activities such as drainage or modern agricultural activities may not be the whole story, though they have done their bit. The corncrake, he suggests, may be diminishing because of huge losses as they cross the Mediterranean (remember those bird-catching nets in North Africa, and shooting). Or, as the Sahara increases in size, does that present a great problem? Or - and here is a big leap - could evolution be at the basis of the bird's decline? Could it, he asks have passed its "ascendancy-phase" and be sliding towards a natural "bowing out" as many creatures before it have done. But basically he is asking us, in all this, to explore "the re-evaluation of the priceless". (Four Courts Press, softback £14.95).