A raven roosting site of some significance in Mayo
COUNTRYFILE
I HAPPENED to be out at dusk, looking for deer in an area where they have not traditionally been found.
They are there – but they are as shy as any I ever met, which suggests they have learned to keep as far away from humankind as they possibly can.
But dusk falls early now. It was nearly dark by six, at which hour I found myself face to face with a large stag.
There was a brief moment of uncertainty before the poor creature took off at a gallop, plunged into the river and swam across to enter thick woodland on the other side.
It is heartening to see such an animal. Hopefully the terror which sent him so readily to flight will subside and we shall meet again.
Colder weather will bunch the deer together and keep them feeding during milder daylight hours, enabling those who wish to see them the opportunity to do just that.
Although I hung around until dark I saw no more deer that night. However, I did have a huge number of ravens flying overhead on their way to some communal roost.
At first they came in twos, then half a dozen at a time. Their numbers increased until just before last light, at which time a large flock containing several dozen birds passed over.
The greatest number of ravens I ever encountered in Mayo was about 30, which were engaged in a mixture of courtship ritual and pair bonding over the Windy Gap.
To have such a number in one place is unusual, to say the least. One reference work from the 1950s highlighted a roost of these birds that regularly numbered between 30 and 40 strong.
On the other hand, the greatest raven roost in Britain can be found on the Isle of Anglesey, where up to 2,000 birds make a truly remarkable winter spectacle.
Given that at least 50 ravens flew directly over my head through the twilight hours, with a great many others flying in from different directions, it could be that we have a roosting site of some significance in our midst.
Yet the raven is no friend of the farmer. Ordinarily, these large birds enjoy a mixed diet.
They are omnivorous and will eat whatever food happens to be on hand, from beetles and earthworms to fruit, although they show a distinct preference for meat over vegetables.
They especially like to feed on carrion, and any sheep found dead on the hill will quickly be discovered and consumed.
The prospect of a mutton lunch is so appealing that these birds might not even wait for a sick animal to die before they start to dine.
A sheep caught by its fleece in brambles or one rolled onto its back and unable to move will be vulnerable and open to attack.
The eyes and tongue are considered delicacies and will be removed even while their rightful owner is held in its unfortunate state.
This unfortunate tendency to dine on the living as well as on the dead means the raven must remain on its toes, so to speak. No wonder they are so hard to approach.
I would like to discover this communal roost, in part to make a proper assessment of raven numbers in the area but also for the birdwatching opportunities this will provide towards the end of winter when their dramatic courtship displays will be most entertaining.
We are fortunate that wild places capable of supporting large numbers of birds are still with us.