Rooks have left, Bad Omen.

[Billhook]

We have had a Rookery here forever and last year it was so big that small groups of Rooks set up three more mini Rookeries nearby.

 

Not one nest this year and not even the remains of last years nests

 

I seem to remember the usual huge gathering of Rooks and Jackdaws last Autumn and even some around earlier and there were a few about on the farm.

 

Not seen any dead ones, there is no shooting here and we have not changed any agricultural practice.

 

Anyone else have a similar tale?

 

Superstition says it is a bad omen so perhaps Nicola Sturgeon will be Prime Minister after all!

[IVECOKID]

Vote UKIP and the Ravens will return .

 

 

Ste

[Stubby]

There are squabs here now . You can see there heads and hear them being fed .

[htb]

Superstition says it is a bad omen so perhaps Nicola Sturgeon will be Prime Minister after all!

 

God help us, Salmond was bad enough she's worse

[Billhook]

Local lad came round last night to tell me that the next door neighbour farmer and friend had died on Monday night.

This spooked me more than a bit, but let;s hope that is an end to it.

 

Superstitions about rooks

 

ROOK: Should a group of them leave an area where they have settled, then a human connected with that land is about to die. They are an omen of summer weather to come: if they are high up it will be fine, but low down and it will be cold and wet.

 

 

 

 

Adrian Dangar

12:01AM BST 18 May 2002

Comment

There is something about a rookery that is quintessentially English: the reassuring return of the colony each February to rebuild bulky nests; the harsh cawing as the birds wheel in the sky, a sound as familiar as lambs bleating in spring; and the siting of so many ancient rookeries near great country houses, as if to confirm the superstition that these birds breed only where there is money.

Unlike the murderous carrion crow, which builds a solitary nest and prefers the eyes of live lambs to leatherjackets and earthworms, the rook is a communal and dignified bird. Both are jet black, with an iridescent sheen of purple and blue. The rook, however, is distinguished by a pale grey patch of skin the size of a sovereign at the base of its beak. And, like jackdaws, magpies and jays, both are members of the corvidae family, renowned for intelligence and cunning.

The rook's acumen extends to a sophisticated and well-regulated way of life in clusters of up to several hundred nests, the residents of which must conform for the greater good. Occasionally, a wayward or sick individual is condemned to death by a "rook parliament". In this bizarre avian trial, the entire population of the rookery takes to the sky in a cacophony of cawing and frenetic wingbeats that serve as a prelude to battering the victim to death.

Rural superstitions acknowledge the rook's uncanny ability to predict disaster and there have been several instances where a human death has been preceded by similar eerie displays. In at least one of these cases, the birds deserted the nests that had served them for generations and never returned.

It may be surprising that anyone should want to kill a bird so shrouded in mystique, yet rook shooting during May is one of the countryside's oldest traditions. At this time of year - some even pinpoint May 13 as being the optimum date - young rooks are clambering out on to swaying branches for the first time.

Opinions are divided over the necessity for a cull. Some farmers reason that the damage rooks inflict on seedlings is made up for by their destruction of agricultural pests. However, the annual ritual involving 12-bore shotguns or .22-calibre rifles is eagerly anticipated in many parts of the country and hardly dents a population that is difficult to keep in check once the birds are mature. Provided a rookery is visited just once during this brief season, only a fraction of each year's young will be harvested.

The unlucky branchies, as young rooks are sometimes labelled, are often collected to form the main ingredient of rook pie, a country dish that has been around for centuries and even merited a mention in Dickens's Pickwick Papers. Some claim that four and 20 blackbirds baking in a pie are not the songbirds that pull worms from your lawn, but that the nursery rhyme refers instead to rook pie, at that time a staple dish of the poor in spring.

Some parts of rural Britain still indulge in this dish. The landlord of the Fox and Hounds in Acton Turville in Gloucestershire, Mad Chico, hosts an annual rook pie night. "I make an extremely moreish pie, with sausage meat, sherry, brandy and spices to complement the rook meat," he says. "It's so delicious I have to set some aside for any regulars that cannot make it." Until recently, the Carrington Arms in Ashby Folville, Leicestershire, held a similar evening for the Quorn Hunt's earth-stoppers. The landlord's recipe of bacon, eggs and rook breasts marinated in milk was so popular that each guest took home a slice of pie in a pot to eat cold the next day.

Since the demise of the English elm, ash and sycamore are the preferred choice for rookeries. By the end of summer, the trees that have served as home for a few months are abandoned in favour of roosting sites sometimes many miles from the nursery. But flocks of rooks swelled by survivors from the breeding season endure as an irreplaceable feature of the English landscape.

Sponsored

[Pinkfoot]

Don't worry , I paid them back.

[born2trot]

Local lad came round last night to tell me that the next door neighbour farmer and friend had died on Monday night.

This spooked me more than a bit, but let;s hope that is an end to it.

 

Superstitions about rooks

 

ROOK: Should a group of them leave an area where they have settled, then a human connected with that land is about to die. They are an omen of summer weather to come: if they are high up it will be fine, but low down and it will be cold and wet.

 

 

 

 

Adrian Dangar

12:01AM BST 18 May 2002

Comment

There is something about a rookery that is quintessentially English: the reassuring return of the colony each February to rebuild bulky nests; the harsh cawing as the birds wheel in the sky, a sound as familiar as lambs bleating in spring; and the siting of so many ancient rookeries near great country houses, as if to confirm the superstition that these birds breed only where there is money.

Unlike the murderous carrion crow, which builds a solitary nest and prefers the eyes of live lambs to leatherjackets and earthworms, the rook is a communal and dignified bird. Both are jet black, with an iridescent sheen of purple and blue. The rook, however, is distinguished by a pale grey patch of skin the size of a sovereign at the base of its beak. And, like jackdaws, magpies and jays, both are members of the corvidae family, renowned for intelligence and cunning.

The rook's acumen extends to a sophisticated and well-regulated way of life in clusters of up to several hundred nests, the residents of which must conform for the greater good. Occasionally, a wayward or sick individual is condemned to death by a "rook parliament". In this bizarre avian trial, the entire population of the rookery takes to the sky in a cacophony of cawing and frenetic wingbeats that serve as a prelude to battering the victim to death.

Rural superstitions acknowledge the rook's uncanny ability to predict disaster and there have been several instances where a human death has been preceded by similar eerie displays. In at least one of these cases, the birds deserted the nests that had served them for generations and never returned.

It may be surprising that anyone should want to kill a bird so shrouded in mystique, yet rook shooting during May is one of the countryside's oldest traditions. At this time of year - some even pinpoint May 13 as being the optimum date - young rooks are clambering out on to swaying branches for the first time.

Opinions are divided over the necessity for a cull. Some farmers reason that the damage rooks inflict on seedlings is made up for by their destruction of agricultural pests. However, the annual ritual involving 12-bore shotguns or .22-calibre rifles is eagerly anticipated in many parts of the country and hardly dents a population that is difficult to keep in check once the birds are mature. Provided a rookery is visited just once during this brief season, only a fraction of each year's young will be harvested.

The unlucky branchies, as young rooks are sometimes labelled, are often collected to form the main ingredient of rook pie, a country dish that has been around for centuries and even merited a mention in Dickens's Pickwick Papers. Some claim that four and 20 blackbirds baking in a pie are not the songbirds that pull worms from your lawn, but that the nursery rhyme refers instead to rook pie, at that time a staple dish of the poor in spring.

Some parts of rural Britain still indulge in this dish. The landlord of the Fox and Hounds in Acton Turville in Gloucestershire, Mad Chico, hosts an annual rook pie night. "I make an extremely moreish pie, with sausage meat, sherry, brandy and spices to complement the rook meat," he says. "It's so delicious I have to set some aside for any regulars that cannot make it." Until recently, the Carrington Arms in Ashby Folville, Leicestershire, held a similar evening for the Quorn Hunt's earth-stoppers. The landlord's recipe of bacon, eggs and rook breasts marinated in milk was so popular that each guest took home a slice of pie in a pot to eat cold the next day.

Since the demise of the English elm, ash and sycamore are the preferred choice for rookeries. By the end of summer, the trees that have served as home for a few months are abandoned in favour of roosting sites sometimes many miles from the nursery. But flocks of rooks swelled by survivors from the breeding season endure as an irreplaceable feature of the English landscape.

Sponsored

 

Fabulous post .

There is no doubt that corvids are a very special animal , surrounded by mystique and legend since time began . Someone who has spent any amount of time immersed in the countryside will know this from experience . I woke up one morning to find my old dog had died in the kitchen , heartbroken i looked out the window to find rooks had gathered in the trees in my backdoor , something i had never seen before or since .

An interesting little fact i came across about the Raven (also corvid family) is that they are the only animal in arctic Canada / Alaska that dont change coat colour , hibernate etc during winter , they just turf it out regardless of how bad it gets .

[the village idiot]

Fabulous post .

There is no doubt that corvids are a very special animal , surrounded by mystique and legend since time began . Someone who has spent any amount of time immersed in the countryside will know this from experience . I woke up one morning to find my old dog had died in the kitchen , heartbroken i looked out the window to find rooks had gathered in the trees in my backdoor , something i had never seen before or since .

An interesting little fact i came across about the Raven (also corvid family) is that they are the only animal in arctic Canada / Alaska that dont change coat colour , hibernate etc during winter , they just turf it out regardless of how bad it gets .

 

Well there's a thing. If they can cope with the Arctic I might get them to quote for my new lawn:biggrin:

[difflock]

I am quite fond of the few Rooks that nest locally, and in company with the Jackdaws (who are nesting in the Chimmneys of the house) and Magpies,(vermin that need shooting) come back religiously each Spring, I presume at the hungeriest time of the year, to raid the dog nuts I put out each morning at 06:10.

To feed the young in their nests presumably.

Quite cheeky too!

Right in at the back door under a car-port.

Sit on the Concrete only 5 or 6 m away for the dogs to finish.

M