ONE FOR SORROW

Our ancestors had many different ways of trying to predict the future and telling other people's fortunes. They studied the bones, guts and other parts of dead animals – or even those of their slain opponents in battle. They stared deep into flames, waves and clouds for inspiration, and they did other things that I can't even mention in a family-friendly blog like this one. I bet that, even if they were proved to be wrong, at least they enjoyed their research.

Among many other of their beliefs that have fallen out of favour, the Ancient Greeks had faith in the art of ornithomancy. That means that some of their prophets, seers and sages were expected to be able to divine the future according to what birds they saw in the air and in the fields around them. These days we know that this is mostly tosh (don't we?) but back then this was the cutting edge of science, for sometimes (as the great author Arthur C. Clarke once said), “magic is just science that we don't understand yet”.

These days we call this kind of thing 'folk science' and it's still used today, only without the mumbo jumbo associations of elder days. For example, if Britain sees an influx of Bee-Eaters then the odds are that we're in for a good summer as those particular birds like hot, dry and settled conditions. Conversely, a large number of Waxwings migrating over here from Northern Europe usually coincides with a particularly snowy winter. In ye olden days, if you pointed these links out, you would have been a magician but it's not sorcery. It's simple observation and causality. But sometimes people put the horse before the cart (as it were) and try to fit sightings to effects for which there is no evidence.

I'm sure that you know the old poem about counting Magpies, but the earliest recorded version is much shorter and slightly different to the one that is still popular today.

One for sorrow,
Two for mirth,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a death.

That was all there was to it, so every time those people in the early fifteen-hundreds saw more than a pair of the noisy black and white birds they were reaching for their best clothes and planning a party. There were (and still are) a lot of Magpies around. It's no coincidence that people are always feeling happy and sad, getting married and dropping down dead. The writers simply attached common observations to common occurrences, which were so common that nobody could disprove them.

However, I think someone was pushing their luck when they extended the number of birds seen in later versions of the song up to the improbable number of ten Magpies – “ten to see the Devil's own self”. It's a good job we're unlikely to see that many then or now. I don't like the idea of Old Nick visiting Old Moor anytime soon just because our Magpie's have had a particularly good breeding season. That one might be a stretch of the imagination, but the original final line about seeing birds signifying a death in the family is repeated many times in folklore and ornithomancy.

If you see a Raven flying by a full moon then someone close to you will die.” This was once a trusted truism believed by almost everyone. It must be true because somebody saw one and three months later their Great-Aunt Myfanwy's second cousin's neighbour's blacksmith suddenly dropped dead. He was only 87.

Let's break this down. The bird was noticed three months before the death. How long before it's no longer a valid sighting? A week? A month? Two? How about the familial distance between the bird spotter and the deceased? How many degrees of separation are required before it's seen as just a coincidence? Far in the future, when the much-loved Kevin Bacon finally shuffles off this mortal coil, how many people will then be able to create their own new superstition? “I saw a pigeon and then Kevin died. It's a sign!” - but only for those who are separated from him by the predestined six degrees. And what are the chances of this sudden demise? An 87 year old who does a physical job passing away without warning?. Who could have seen that coming? When you look at it like that, the only unusual thing about this whole convoluted tale is that a Raven was seen flying by a full moon. Now that really us uncommon.

In folk tales such as this, seeing or dreaming about any of our big, black Corvids is often interpreted as meaning that a loved on may soon pass away. After they're gone, Robins and Cuckoos are good birds to see as they are supposed to be able to carry messages between our world and the land of the dead and we can ask the messenger birds to pass on our love to those who have gone before.

Of course many of us want to believe that a lost loved one goes on to a better place when they leave our life. The good news is that seeing a House Sparrow is meant to be a sign of just that very thing. A chirpy House Sparrow signifies a happy soul in Heaven. Isn't that nice? But don't you think it's a bit fortunate? The sight of the most common bird in the country showing that the recently deceased are happy in the next life. Similarly, love and peace are symbolised by another common bird, the Dove. Even the scabbiest feral pigeon is technically a dove, so we can celebrate each time we see one, especially if they drop a lovely gift upon you. You know what they say about it being lucky. Surely it's a bit fortuitous that our most common birds signify good things?

Well, imagine that you're a historical Old Wife and you make your living by telling tales and interpreting them. The locals have gotten into the habit of slipping you a few groats in exchange for a nice prophecy, Isn't it probable that you'll say, “Just take notice of the most common things around you and all will be well” rather than, “I see grim times ahead for you”? If you can get your customers to believe that the most common birds they see are the ones that bring good fortune (and they'll want to believe it) then they'll tell their friends who in turn will come to you, the Soothsayer, for their own 'good luck' reading. Isn't that better than telling them bad stuff is just around the corner? That wouldn't be good for business.

Now some people see signs, omens and portents everywhere. That's up to them, I'm not going to knock anyone's belief system. If it gives them solace in times of need then good for them but when I look into the skies I see the most glorious sight in the world. I simply see birds, and that's pleasing enough for me.


Volunteer Shaun welcomes visitors to RSPB Old Moor. He also writes a weekly blog about life at the reserve titled, "View From the Shed". He usually wears a big hat.