BIRDS AS BAROMETERS.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 462, 12 April 1890, Page 3

BIRDS AS BAROMETERS.

Signs of the Coming Weather Seen on the Wing. Tost at the time when the ruin of the year has come—when the duns and browns are over the woods—vast flocks of woodcocks concentrate themselves on our shores, says a correspondent of the ‘ Manchester Guardian.’ Their early arrival and continuance are said to be signs of barns filled to bursting; and Gilbert White has it that woodcocks are remarkably listless against snowy, foul weather. Just as infallibly as the woodcock makes its autumnal migration, so it is accompanied or shortly preceded by flocks of goldcrests. So invariable is this rule that the goldcrests have come to be called ‘Woodcock Pilots.’ They are the tiniest and frailest among British birds, and one of the marvels of migration is that this little fluff of feathers, weighing only 80 grains, can safely cross the wild North Sea in the wildest season. And yet thousands annually make the troublous journey. When rooks fly high, gliding and circling like birds of prey, it foretells bad weather; and if they make to the mountains in dry weather rain is near. The going abroad of these

Sable Birds is always considered a good sign, though remaining near their roost or returning atmidday means rain. As a parallel to the presence of one swallow not making a summer the Germans say that although the song of one iark does not bring the sunny season, yet when the cockoo and nightingale are heard summer has really come. It is well known that when larke fly high and sing continuously, fine weather may be expected; and both the French and Scotch have a proverb to the effect that ‘ as long as the laverock sings before Candlemas it will greet after it.’ From its habit of

Singing Through Gales of wind and rain, the missel-thrush is often called stormcock ; and its close cousin, the redwing, has evoked the following legend : —* A rushing, rustling sound is heard in the English Channel on the dark still night of winter, and is called the “herring spear” by the fishermen of Dover and Folkstone. This is caused by the flight of those pretty little birds, the redwings, as they cross the Channel on their way to warmer regions. The fishermen listen to the sound withawe, yet regard it, on the whole, as an omen of good success with their nets.’ In different districts directly contrary opinions are held with regard to the redbreast as a weather prophet. In the south-east of Ireland it is believed that if a robin enters a house it is a prognostic of frost or snow ; while in East Anglia they say, *lf the robin sings in the bush, then the weather will be coarse ; but if the robin

Sings on the Barn the weather will be warm. The saw-likc note of the great titmouse ( Pams major) fortells rain, while the cry of the tiny blue cousin has a like meaning. The saying that when swallows fly low it is a sign of rain, and when high fair weather, is expressed in one of Gray’s pastorals : ‘ When swallows fleet soar high and sport in air, he told us that the welkin would be clear.’ The infallible chaffinch says ‘ Weeb weeb !’ before rain ; hence in Scotland the children say ‘ VVeet, weeb !’ (the cry ‘ Dreep, dreep !’ the consequence). The pretty northern bunting, or snowflake, has, from its time of coming to the lowlands from the mountains, the names snowfowl, snowflight, and W 7 HITE-WINGED LARK. The flocking of starlings is a token of impending bad weather, as is the like procedure on the part of many other birds. In the South of France the crafty and wise magpie is supposed by the country folk to foresee storm and tempest, and the signs are as follows:—If the birds build their nests on the summits of trees, calm weather may be expected ; if on the lower branches, tempests of wind and rain are sure to follow. Whenever a jackdaw is seen standing on one of the vanes of the cathedral tower at Wells, the citizens are heard to say, ‘ We shall have rain.’ This also holds good with regard bo Croscombe, Romsey and Norwich. As jackdaws are rarely absent from the vanes of cathedral towers, and as they seem to look upon them as their own by prescriptive right, Wells must be a wet place. Indeed. a correspondent of ‘ Notes and Queries ’ affirms, *on his own personal knowledge,’ that rain has always followed within 24 hours of his observing the greyspate perched on the vane.