Facing up to task of counting bats in a Mayo attic
COUNTRYFILE
AT last! A bat detector, in my hand.
For so long I have been watching bats fly in and out of the attic without knowing exactly what kind they are.
Not that it makes that much difference really, for all Irish bat species enjoy a measure of legal protection that makes those who try to reclaim their roof space little better than a common criminal.
We do have one or two bat species that need to be looked after – not that anybody would miss them if they weren’t there.
Still, we need to make the most of our biodiversity, doing so in the knowledge that this brings its own measure of protection to ourselves.
Without certain bats, some species of flying insect might outcompete others, to the detriment of certain wildflowers in need of pollination.
Should we run short of these, before we know what is happening we shall have no bees, then no crops that depend on bees, then no near neighbours and eventually no hope.
We certainly don’t fully understand all the intricacies of the environmental network we are a part of, and until we do, we must learn to look after everything, including our bats.
Now, the bat detector. It appears straightforward enough.
Turn it on, select the required frequency (different bat species echo-locate at different frequencies, helping us to identify them even in the dark of night), and listen in to those musical intonations that are ordinarily inaudible to the ageing human ear.
To cut a longish story short, I found pipistrelle bats, which I fully expected.
The best of us might pick up their faint, mouselike squeaking unaided as they pass overhead, but let the bat detector do its work and the noise produced is a quite extraordinary mix of musical pops and whistles.
And then there were the lesser horseshoe bats, a rare and declining species given special protection under Irish and European law.
While these little beasts would qualify on anybody’s list as the most ugly of all Irish animals, their diversity of speech sets them distinctively apart.
Imagine The Clangers on speed and you have lesser horseshoe in full flight. But what is it they are saying?
No creature that ever lived produced such a wide range of vocalisations without meaning to communicate.
Now I was getting somewhere!
Two or three more bat species picked up by the detector left me in confusion and no longer sure what or which I was tuning in to.
What is needed is an expert, someone used to the different flight patterns of different bats and capable of differentiating between the good old pipistrelle and the far more tricky Daubenton’s, Leisler’s and Brandt’s bats.
According to my machine, which I have probably been using completely contrary to the instruction sheet contained within the box it came in, we have Noctule bats among the array of others.
The issue with this is that these animals don’t live this side of the Irish Sea.
A puzzling variety of bats were recorded along a short section of road close to my home.
Next, I must position myself at the end of the house at dusk, where a small hole in the fascia admits bats which are yet unidentified.
I find myself on a road of discovery, where questions far outweigh present answers.
Do different bats specialise in hunting different insects? Do these animals migrate, as is the case with many birds? Are they, or will they be, affected by our changing climate?
How many bats are living in my attic?
I’m almost afraid to find the answer to that one.