A Long Standing Love Affair

Many years and kilos ago, as a teen working part-time in Dublin, I came across this book in the nature section in Easons.

We are all the products of our upbringing and childhood influences, and this book influenced me heavily.

Strangely, I never bought it. But the logistics of making it home to Ashbourne from the city center meant I often had an hour to kill after work, which I tended to use browsing the bird books, and I read this one cover to cover.

It was really just a glorified bird report, at the end of the day, but the photographs in it were the actual rarities themselves, at times mere record shots.

It was easy to get caught up looking at the photos of mega yanks, quite a few photographed in Ireland, but many eastern species were also captivating. And there on the cover, and further covered within, was Nutcracker.

There was nothing quite like it to my eyes. This incredible chocolate lover's dream, with a mix of 85% dark, milk and white chocolate, tied up in a bizzare mix of Starling and crow, and that incredible bill.

Though it seemed unlikely, being exceptionally rare even in Britain, the dream of finding one was born. I had visions of certain gardens on Howth which I thought could be perfect for one, and being a regular DART utilizing birder in those early days, it seemed as good a spot as any.

It may never come to pass. For anyone. But it didn't make me want them any less.

When we moved out to Kirkkonummi attracting them to the garden was a very real possibility.

They're not massively common, with an often patchy distribution, but we soon learned some were indeed in the area, with 3 birds visiting a neighbour's garden some 2km away. 

And so last Winter I sat down to the task of building a suitable feeder that might attract some. 

And so rose the smorgasbord.

Though likely constructed too late in the Winter to successfully attract Nutcrackers, I intended on putting it to work the following Autumn.

Nutcrackers start to move as early as the end of August, and indeed I added the first of the Autumn in around this period. From there on several birds have been present in the bay consistently, any given day seen or heard on the far side. 

With an abundance of peanuts supplied, and a 6+ strong flock of Jay flying back and forth across the bay, the hope was that sooner or later that the Nutcrackers would investigate and begin visiting on the regular. 

I couldn't have dreamed it would be so successful, with now 4 birds minimum, seemingly having shifted the center of their territory to our garden, being present throughout the day. 

Nutcracker - that tail really is something special. There's nothing quite like it in an Irish context and it's amazingly eye-catching in flight.

The smorgasbord doing it's thing and fulfilling it's purpose. I had fun building it and it works. Job done.

Another look at that fantastic tail. Note the white patches on the underwing.

When a bird, any bird, allows you into it's world in a confiding manner it's incredibly endearing. But when it's something that you've dreamed of for years? I can't overstate how much enjoyment I'm getting out of these birds.

In an impressively short period of time, the birds have become accustomed to our comings and goings and are now surprisingly tame. 

There's an intelligence visible in that eye, and audible in their vast array of calls, which cannot be denied. These birds talk to eachother, elaborately and with purpose. That first bird that found us at the start of November told his compatriots where we were. They communicate in intricate detail, from the mechanical, hoarse territorial call, to the starling-like whistling warble, to sequences of bill clapping. 

That superb bill. More than a tool for cracking nuts. It serves as a dibble, stabbing into the ground and depositing nuts for the Winter cache. Seeing a bird engaged in this behaviour was the confirmation that the birds were likely to stay, stocking up a Winter larder in the garden.

Here's to a delight filled Winter ahead with dream birds.