By Nicholas Rhea

THROUGHOUT the year we are accustomed to a flock of rooks flying over our house each morning as they head for their feeding grounds on a distant field. Likewise each evening, they return noisily, their distinctive calls heralding their approach as they keep in touch with one another by those sounds. They head home to the site of their rookery in woodland.

During the year, other birds visit us in flocks, regular ones being long-tailed tits, which announced their presence in a variety of squeaky notes. Although they do not seem to enjoy suburban gardens, they will visit gardens in rural areas if there is sufficient cover in the form of shrubs or trees.

From time to time finches will form flocks that are formed by different varieties – chaffinches will happy mingle with greenfinches and other finches, even if this is not their usual way of life. Some other species live in large colonies. Various gulls and puffins are examples, as are the rooks I have already mentioned. Sometimes, a flock of rooks will include jackdaws, whose calls can be heard among those of the rooks.

In winter, however, things can change. Birds that are usually solitary will form large flocks. Wood pigeons are a good example.

For reasons that are not completely clear, they create large flocks which collectively go in search of food. At times they are of considerable size, probably numbering several hundred birds, and another species that often visits our locality is a flock of golden plovers.

Normally solitary birds that live on the heights of our moors, they gather in flocks in winter on lower ground, usually on farmland where they search for food such as insects and worms. Sometimes they may visit the coast in their never-ending search and in winter, they are often joined by incoming flocks from Scandinavia.

Just as starlings sometimes fly in large flocks, so I have watched golden plovers do likewise, flying across our local landscape in a spectacular and co-ordinated manner with their white underparts contrasting with black areas, all beneath handsome golden upper parts.

On one occasion I watched a flock of several hundred golden plovers executing their aerobatics some distance away with the morning sun highlighting their colours and contrasts. In a tightly-formed flock with all flying as if a single bird, twisting and turning in unison, the sun glinted from their plumage to make the distant fast-moving group have the appearance of a curious shining aircraft in flight. If I’d had a camera, I could have convinced viewers it was a flying saucer. The experience made me wonder whether some recorded sightings of flying saucers over the moors were in fact flocks of golden plovers in flight.

The question now arises – why do some birds form flocks when normally they would be solitary?

This has exercised the minds of experts with many believing the birds realise that there is safety in numbers, particularly when feeding. If a bird is feeding alone, say in an exposed location such as a field, it spends a lot of time checking that there are no predators lurking nearby and so it does not obtain sufficient food to keep it alive or in top condition. When feeding as a flock, many will be on guard against predators and so the feeding is as relaxed as it can be.

Another theory is that predators would be confused by a large number of potential victims, uncertain which to tackle first and so giving a potential prey ample time to escape. If this happened, the alarm would sound and so the flock would respond with positive action.

while we might believe that a large flock feeding in a field would reduce the volume of food that could be enjoyed by individuals, the contrary argument is that the birds would have selected that particular feeding ground because it could provide sufficient for all. In short, the instinct for survival in our birds is quite remarkable. We can see similar elements in shoals of fish, or the gathering in group of large animals like wildebeest or wolves.

Apart of these winter gatherings, some birds meet in smaller numbers during their springtime courtship rituals.

One intriguing example is found among avocets – although often living in flocks, sometimes they form small groups of, say, half a dozen comprising three males and three females. Those males and females have already formed a bond with one of the opposite sex. When in this group and standing close to their chosen ones, they form a circle and bow to one another with their long curved beaks touching the ground. It seems this is a prelude to a short battle between each pair. Its purpose is not known but experts believe it is some kind of formal ritual associated with courtship.

Small groups of oyster-catchers also create a similar routine as they run backwards and forwards over a small patch of ground with their beaks pointing downwards while uttering their familiar piping calls. In some areas, this is known as their piping performance, the purpose of which is not known. Such activities are all part of the continuing fascination of our wild birds which tells us that there remains a great deal yet to be discovered about their behaviour.

FAMOUS THORPE IN THE DALES

Recently I referred to the various Thorpes in our region, many bearing either a prefix or a suffix such as Ugthorpe or Thorp Perrow and while I suggested there was no such place as Thorpe alone, I was really referring to the North York Moors. Thorpe exists in the Yorkshire Dales, about which I wrote in my Folk Stories from the Yorkshire Dales.

The book was published as a paperback by Hale in 1991 under my name of Peter N Walker. This Thorpe, sometimes known as Thorpe-sub-Montem or Thorpe-in-the Hollow, is about two miles south-east of Grassington via Sheepfold Lathe and can be reached by car from the Burnsall to Threshfield stretch of the B6160. There are beautiful footpaths too, one of which leads through glorious countryside from Burnsall Bridge.

I have to say that the hamlet is not easily found. It is out of sight among the foothills of the Pennines, situated among an assemblage of curious conical knolls bearing names like Kail Hill, Stebden Hill, Butter Haw Hill, Carden Hill, Skelterton and the well known Embolton Hill.

Due to its isolation, Thorpe was safe from marauders such as the Danes and Scots, and its centuries-old loneliness probably gave rise to its rich folklore. Fairies were thought to live on Embolton Hill, holding moonlit dances and parties on the slopes, and living in hillside caves.

One mystery is why so many cobblers and shoemakers lived in Thorpe. They supplied the monks of nearby abbeys, with Thorpe-made shoes claimed to be the finest in the land. Other shoemakers were among the pilgrims who trekked to this remote place simply to say they had been to the famous Thorpe. There are some wonderful folk tales about the fairies and cobblers of Thorpe, including Dibbles Bridge, also known as Devil’s Bridge. A famous Thorpe indeed.