Exotic delights in a cold climate

ACROSS the stream, in a big field which, unfortunately, fills more full with Japanese knotweed and ragwort every year, we regularly see a man taking his children, a small terrier and a black-and-white cat for a walk.

Walking with cats is novel, even in West Cork, but it seems the animal greatly enjoys the outings and may be seen bouncing along through the grass, stopping to explore briar brakes and rabbit burrows and then running to catch up with the group.

When we were in the Sierra Nevada in Spain last winter, we saw a golden eagle cruising above the cats sunning themselves on the flat roofs of our local village. A golden eagle is a huge bird and would need a lot of larks or linnets to keep it going so it hunts larger prey. In a dog’s dinner of metaphors, I wondered if, for an eagle, a cat a day might keep the wolf from the door.

Cats kill million of birds each year, so it’s not unreasonable that a bird should dine on a cat. But when a golden eagle suddenly rockets down out of the sky and the shadow of the seven-foot wings blots out the sun, I cannot, despite my grudge against the bird-eaters, but feel sorry for the poor moggie as is swept above the Earth.

Golden eagles, of course, take hares, but not children, however naughty. The other day, I came upon a short-sighted hare or maybe all hares are short-sighted. As I got out of the car, it came out of a field gate and loped down the road towards me, stopping only 50ft away and looking at me for about two minutes before loping unhurriedly into a field. It was a fine young hare, its fur red in the morning sunlight. It wasn’t a worn-out, myopic old hare, for sure.

We have goldfinches and greenfinches galore at the bird table these days and a dunnock, aka a hedge sparrow. Strangely, we haven’t had this common little bird for years. The greenfinches are bullies at the feeders, although great tits will stand up to them.

The other day, we again had a visit from two bullfinches. The plumage of the cock, its rose-pink breast, black cap and grey mantle is gorgeous, opulent and extravagant. What can have inspired nature to be so profligate with colour? Looking at it close up, it is hard to believe we could have such creatures flitting about. Surely they must belong in the tropics, among trees burgeoning with amazing fruits and exotic flowers.

On the subject of exotic flowers, I’d call the four primroses in bloom on the side of our stream on December 5 exotic. I think readers would agree. Of course, we live only a couple of hundred yards from the sea, and the climate is mild but primroses in early December are extraordinary.

The sea has other blessings too. One night last month, with the help of friends, I landed a three pound bass, the first bass I’ve caught since as a child.

Meanwhile, for someone who loves someone who loves fishing, or simply observing the beauty of the creatures that are fished, I cannot recommend a better Christmas present than a painting by William Helps. He is a young West Cork artist who studied wildlife illustration for a degree course and produces work of an astounding quality. There are paintings of shoal bass, of bass in pursuit of sand-eels, of salmon, of sea trout, of fish leaping, hunting and simply swimming. Each is more glorious than the next.

They are not cheap, these paintings. Mostly in oils, they take endless hours to perfect. Even if you cannot afford to buy one you will find them a joy to behold at www.williamhelps.com. For those lucky enough to be able to hang one on their wall, they will be a keepsake and an heirloom. Why keep your money in the bank if you can admire it in the shape of a fine art work on your wall?