Branded a bringer of bad luck, the magpie is a much misunderstood bird.... and good looking to boot

It is also the harbinger of doom. Nothing is likely to cause more angst in the heart of my mother-in-law than the sight of a lone magpie, a superstition from the mists of time of impending bad luck that can be alleviated only by the sight of another magpie (the source of the rhyme "one for sorrow, two for joy"), or by quickly saying: "Good morning Mr Magpie, please give our regards to Mrs Magpie and all her baby magpies".

So, what is the reason for the magpie being held in such low esteem? In Biblical times it was said to be the only bird that refused to enter Noah's Ark, preferring instead to perch on the outside and cackle its defiance as the rising waters engulfed the world.

Certainly, such superstitions seem to be ingrained in our psyche and still hold sway today. But even more so than that is the widely held perception that magpies are behind the decline of many of our songbirds.

That they take eggs and nestlings is indisputable. Every spring, I find a plundered blackbird or songthrush nest in my garden, lying askew in the branches as evidence of the violent act committed. But was a magpie the culprit? Possibly yes, but equally the villain could have been a crow, a squirrel, fox or some other predator.

The consensus amongst most bird experts is that the magpie is not behind any decline in our songbirds. One study, commissioned by the RSPB, found that songbird numbers were no different in places where there were many magpies from where there were few. It is the availability of food and suitable places in which to nest that draw the population and the most likely cause for any decline in songbird numbers is changes in land management.

It is worth considering too the positive sides of the magpie. They feed on pest insects and other invertebrates and will also occasionally take rodents. Overall, the magpie is an opportunist, taking advantage of whatever food source presents itself.

The magpie is rather an attractive bird, too. From a distance it looks black and white but, close-up and in the sunshine, the black is embossed with a glossy metallic green and purple sheen. The long, graduated tail is elevated when the bird alights on the ground, careful not to drag it over the earth. Like the crow, its usual gait is a walk, but if it sees something that catches its eye it hops quickly sideways to inspect it.

A flustered magpie will raise its tail and chatter harshly. It sometimes seems that the bird is perpetually excited and in winter, when they often feed in small flocks, there is much squabbling and dispute. Its short wings and long tail conspire to make the magpie an unaccomplished flier and it seldom flies for a great distance at any one time.

The magpie has spread its range in Scotland quite considerably in recent decades, probably as a result of reduced persecution. It is a trend that has been repeated throughout much of Europe. It is a very adaptable bird and since 1980, a magpie population has even developed on the Russian tundra in association with human settlement.

Whatever one's feelings are on the magpie, it is undeniably a bird that stirs strong emotions. While I'm not particularly superstitious, my mother-in-law's beliefs have rubbed off on me. Whenever I see a lone magpie, I too find it difficult to resist the temptation to scan around for its partner, the words "one for sorrow, two for joy" ringing in my head.

• This article was first published in The Scotsman on March 12, 2011