Name of bird: The Cuckoo

Latin name Cuculus canorus

Colloquial or slang name: The cuckoo

Description – It could be mistaken for a sparrowhawk.

Its ‘cuckoo’ call is a sign of Spring. The cuckoo is a parasite and causes the death of other fledglings as it takes over the nest of the host. Any bird (almost) could be the host-parent.

The adult cuckoo watches for a bird that is in the process of laying its own eggs. When that bird leaves the nest the cuckoo sneaks to the nest and lays an egg. When the young cuckoo hatches it manages to throw the other eggs out of the nest, or if the other eggs have hatched first it will throw the fledglings out. Often the cuckoo chick can be much bigger than the host-parent that is looking after it. The countryside isn’t all sweetness and light is it?

Markings: Adult birds are slate blue grey above, white undrneath the dark grey barring. In the young birds the black neck and head are brown.

Eggs: The cuckoo’s eggs vary in colour. They often match those of the host-parent. I think that is amazing. Survival in action.

Nest: The cuckoo does not build a nest. It lays its eggs in other birds nests.

Approx size- reaching a length of slightly over a foot.Typical haunts or habitat: Almost anywhere and everywhere .

Preferred feed type: Caterpillars and other insects.

A Poem for you:

To The Cuckoo

O BLITHE New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?

While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear,
From hill to hill it seems to pass,
At once far off, and near.

Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even yet thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery;

The same whom in my school-boy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.

And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.

O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place;
That is fit home for Thee!

William Wordsworth

Tags: cuckoo, fact-sheet, nest