‘I could be forgiven for anthropomorphism if I said that Northern Ireland’s last choughs did not seem to exhibit the joyful, carefree behaviour of the Tory birds. The fact that choughs have held on in Tory and Rathlin, after disappearing from most of Ireland, illustrates an interesting aspect of island ecology. Because an island is effectively its own little ecosystem, cut off to a certain extent from what is happening on the mainland, it can act as a refuge for a species that is under pressure in other places. Tory holds another example of this phenomenon: after saying goodbye to the choughs, as we walked along the road on the edge of the village, another strange call started up, and continued persistently. It was a corncrake in a field right beside the road, giving its mechanical, two-note buzz of a call that was once heard throughout the Irish countryside. Another victim of agricultural intensification, the corncrake underwent a massive decline in population in the 20th century. Tory is now one of the only places where its voice is still commonplace. As we sat down on a wall to listen to it, a couple of women came down the road. “Have you heard the corncrake yet?” I asked, thinking the women were also visitors from the ferry. “Yes,” said the first woman cheerfully, in an accent that said she was from the island or nearby. “Those birds never shut up.” They went on without stopping. If I had known they were from the area, I would have greeted them in Irish. For Tory is a redoubt not only for threatened birds and Fomorians, but also the Irish language. According to the 2022 Census, Tory has the highest proportion of Irish speakers of all the Gaeltacht Planning Areas, with 69% of the island’s population using Irish every day outside of the education system.’
🪶Extract from © 'Encounters with corvids' by Fionn Ó Marcaigh, illustrated by Aga Grandowicz.
📙 To learn more about choughs and other corvids present in Ireland, consider getting a copy of the book here.


