Eanna Ní Lamhna certainly wouldn’t categorise herself as agreeable or kind. Should someone err, she’d be very quick in correcting them. Seemingly, kindness often hampers one’s critical judgement, potentially making life rather dull.
Ní Lamhna is anything but dull; she’s radiates vibrancy. The notion of a cliche three-word description, made her giggle; she’d rather have a thirty-three word explanation. Considering a biopic about her life, the only actress she envisioned to depict her accurately, now sadly unavailable, is Maggie Smith. She jokingly refers to both herself and Smith as ‘old bats’, appreciating the seasoned actress’s sharp wit.
Ní Lamhna exudes wit, charm, and peculiarity. She’s intelligent, lively, and absolutely engaging, bringing with her a wealth of well-informed viewpoints, enriched by her vast knowledge base and remarkable articulation skills. Her career as a wildlife expert, biologist, broadcaster, and author speak for her persona, making her a very warm and appealing company. Turn your radio on; her distinct Louth accent and unstoppable enthusiasm will enliven you, presenting a swift barrage of words that will challenge your thoughts and make you grin. Truly, she’s an exceptional communicator.
After an eventful day, which comprised trips to three different schools in Waterford and a drive back to her home in a Dublin suburb, a remarkably upbeat woman shares her secret to maintaining her energy. Passion is her driving force; when she enjoys what she does, she finds the energy to do it, she explains. She playfully jests about not having the need for sleep and how she can’t say ‘no’, much to her spouse’s chagrin. The day got even more exciting when she received the first edition of her new book from her publishers, Gill.
The book, titled ‘The Great Irish Biodiversity Book’, is aesthetically pleasing, complete with appealing, large-format illustrations by Barry Falls, that meticulously depict Ireland’s natural landscape and its diverse inhabitants. It is organized according to different habitats—woodlands, bog lands, seaside, gardens and parks, grasslands, and rivers and lakes. It offers detailed representations of the flora and fauna that thrive in these environments, including herbivores, carnivores, and decomposers. She succinctly explains the essence of ecology—the carbon cycle, with plants manufacturing food, animals consuming it, and decomposers breaking it down.
This is no simple children’s storybook. Instead, it is a comprehensive and materialistic guide designed to engage audiences of all ages. Constantly keeping a check on the realistic portrayal of various elements, she shares her experience of working with Falls, who, despite minor inaccuracies, performed outstandingly and she believes, deserves a high place in heaven. Aimed ostensibly at readers from grade five onwards, it is written in a universal style that is equally engaging for adult readers. She encourages readers to delve into the book and then embark on a journey to witness the natural wonders they just read about.
She remembers the inaccuracies prevalent in the children’s literature of her youth. She notes the misrepresentations of spiders, recalling that the creatures were drawn with limbs springing from the wrong parts of their bodies, and with only two eyes, rather than eight. She asserts that there was also misinformation about the hibernation patterns of squirrels and frogs. She disputed the title suggested by her publisher for her book, insisting instead on ‘The Great Irish Biodiversity Book,’ arguing that ‘biodiversity’ isn’t too difficult a concept for the public to understand.
She wanted the title to reflect the serious nature of her book, showing that is more than a mere collection of plant and animal facts. Its primary aim was to vividly illustrate the diverse habitats present in Ireland. To her, it is a children’s science book, but one that anyone, not just children, can appreciate and benefit from reading. She emphasizes that it isn’t merely a pastoral tale but a comprehensive work anchored in rigorous scientific principles catering to the average reader rather than academicians.
“I’ve never been one to spread doom and gloom or claim the world’s end is nigh. On the contrary, I’ve consistently stayed upbeat. My goal was to highlight the abundant biodiversity we possess. I’ve never claimed these species are all near extinction. Instead, I encourage others to familiarise themselves with their local fauna. If one ventures out and cannot spot a curlew, then they might question its absence. Continually painting a bleak picture only leads to a sense of fatalism, which is not beneficial. The only hint of my concern lies in a dedication to my grandchildren; Archie, Shay, Hugo, Alice, Teddy, Charles and Tilly. I wish for them to experience the wildlife habitats and species I write about and hope these elements of nature will remain for their own grandchildren to witness.
Originally hailing from Louth, I have resided in Dublin since my university days. On returning home, I revert to my thick Louth dialect, saying “Wather” and “Buther”. People sometimes misconstrue my passionate way of speaking as complaining. However, I’m merely full of zest, which is quite fervent and fast-paced. You could say I have a gift for the gab.
As a country lass among city kids in school, my lisp rendered my words nearly unintelligible. My father, the school headmaster, taught me. I recount a rather sensitive story, which involves my lisp and a speech teacher who embarrassingly had me repeatedly attempt tongue-twisters in the classroom as a cautionary tale. I remember the audacity of her actions, and keep the memory fresh to stay unequivocally indignant. Interestingly, I am the only one from that particular class who now earns her bread by speaking. It’s no wonder then that I have zero tolerance for idiocy. It was quite abominable, the way I was treated, but rest assured, they did not get off scot-free.”
We find ourselves settled at her table, near her quaint garden. “It’s my husband who tends to all the flowers”. She emphasises that a garden teeming with biodiversity needn’t resemble wilderness. “I fancy that insects are fans of Tipperary or Roscommon or Clare. They are attracted to hues of yellow and purple but seem to overlook red. Ever spotted a bee amongst roses, tulips or begonias? These are man-made creations as an attempt to compensate for the lack of naturally red blooms.”
She is a woman with a cause, yet she feels her efforts have not been fruitful, “If I am, I’ve sorely failed. In the seventies, biodiversity was double what it is currently. There’s been a significant decrease. We’ve lost 90% of our curlews and our corncrake population is depleting. Just five decades ago their vibrant calls filled the nights. Unfortunately, alterations in land usage have had a greater impact than climate changes in our region. In earlier times, our fields were blanketed with hay, providing ample cover for ground nesting birds. Nowadays, fields are shorn in May for silage, leaving no cover and resulting in a sharp decline in bird population. All of this has occurred under my watch.”
However, she expresses optimism noting that public perception and understanding has bettered. Initiatives like No Mow May are fostering biodiversity while advocating for the removal of distasteful labels for plants like dandelions. “We shouldn’t vilify dandelions. After all a weed is merely a plant that has grown out of place. The issue lies in language filled with prejudice.” She continues celebrating dandelions for being valuable to bumblebees in their hunt for yellow flowers while bashing daffodils for being pollen deficient. “Unfortunately, we’ve lost our hay meadows and hedges.” Despite the loss, she isn’t blaming farmers; instead, she attributes much of it to the ever-changing EU regulations. “The situation isn’t simply black and white. Labeling farmers as villains and environmentalists as heroes would be inaccurate.”
Equipped with a multitude of professional commitments, Ní Lamhna plays various roles. Her responsibilities include being a trustee of the Tree Council and serving as the communications officer for the Campaign for Responsible Rodenticide Use. She often expresses her astonishment at individuals who fault their local councils as rubbish heap up, asking why a rat would choose poison over a hearty bag of chips. She is also set to receive an honorary doctorate from the University of Galway in the coming month.
Ní Lamhna has a long-standing association with RTÉ Radio 1’s Mooney Goes Wild, having been a part of the show for nearly three decades after being found from an RTÉ catalogue of industrious women. Her sense of humour is tickled by the fact that she was the only female on the show then and continues to be. She recalls that in the old times, wildlife discussions were predominantly carried out in Latin and the idea of addressing the topic in layman’s terms was met with controversy. Known for her straightforwardness, she prides herself on avoiding the academic tendency to surround statements with qualifiers.
Proudly displayed on her wall is a photograph representing her large family, which comprises two sons, a daughter, their partners, and seven grandchildren (including one who was born through IVF). Described as fun grandparents, they partake in activities like organising crab races and gathering snails in a bucket, which they find immensely enjoyable.
Her book gives credit to her supportive husband, John Harding, who raises the possibility of her never retiring. Yet, she maintains that her retirement will solely depend on if people don’t need her services anymore remarking, ‘You’re only as good as your last gig’. The couple first crossed paths studying science at UCD; he in physics and her in botany and microbiology. She refers to a different photo on the wall as an image captured during her younger days and goes on to chat about the concepts of youth, curiosity, and perception of omniscience.
In her opinion, younger generations tend to keep themselves incredibly occupied without the self-belief that usually comes with age. When questioned about her own confidence, she admits to always being a bit of an attention-seeker.
The Great Irish Biodiversity Book, written by Éanna Ní Lamhna with illustrations by Barry Falls, is available from Gill publishers.