He sat by the holly
(with no sign of snow!)
Just a little bit twearly
Gill McGrath© [ for original Robin diary press link]
He sat by the holly
(with no sign of snow!)
Just a little bit twearly
Gill McGrath© [ for original Robin diary press link]
Oooh, he’s got a mean look about him. Please be careful Gill, one day you see a Robin in your garden then within 3 months you find yourself out on the street homeless looking through what used to be your windows into the home you once had at the Robin who now lives there. It happens so quick.
Robin Redbreast
I don’t sing, I shout.
all day, all night.
Sleep is for the weak,
I have fire in my belly.
Property is my game,
to the death I will fight.
Look at him with his spade.
Doesn’t he know that this…
is my garden.
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Oh my God! You know! The robin has practically moved in! He came into the living room through the open door straight from the garden three days ago and darted around then under the chair I was sitting on(after the crisps no doubt) …..then (believe me) he looked straight at me. My reflection was in his eyes! He didn’t run. He simply turned round and hopped out with a bit of a swagger. He has the garden as it is ………but having got that far into the living room do you reckon he might think he has that too? He insists on taking a bath out there on his own come rain or shine….. all the birds get out of his way. And if I can’t see him, I can hear him, practically all the time! Not sure what he is saying though, but he sounds happy. I haven’t the heart to cut the hedge where he has lived, thus far; never occurred to me that he might be looking for the whole house………… and trying to make me homeless. Thank you for your kindly warning Mark. Love ❤ your beautiful words there on the robin redbreast…..says everything you ever need to know!
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I love Robins really but they are feisty little fellows. This is something I wrote about three years ago about my ongoing tussle with a Robin.
For the past few weeks a Robin Redbreast
has been trying to evict me from my garden.
I researched Robins on the internet and
saw them being described as pugnacious.
Not knowing this word, I looked it up.
Pugnacious – readily disposed to fight.
I’m doomed!
And so of course that Robin became known as Pugnacious and he certainly lived up to his name. When I used to work in the garden he would appear nearby and often would deliver a barrage of sharp shrill whistles all the same pitch which were definitely directed toward me because the way that Robins communicate with each other is with a much more complex song that has a set routine and repeats eventually. Pugnacious was most certainly trying to start a fight with me, which in hindsight deserves a lot of respect. He must of looked at me and thought “Hmmm he is quite big, but I’m still willing to take him on.”
After a few weeks there was a definite shift from anger to curiosity to an acceptance that I wasn’t going to be leaving in a hurry. Then it was if he decided he wanted to be friends, he started getting closer to where ever I was and then one day he sat in the tree above where I was working and sang really quietly and beautifully in soft melodic warbles that no other person or bird could have possibly heard, so it must of been for me. He started doing this more often and then eventually his curiosity led him to want to discover what I did in my house… so he wandered in. Then after that he used to come every day and sit in the living room sometimes singing, sometimes eating the food I put out.
He was amazing, I loved him for his curious nature, he had so much character.
Then one day another Robin turned up at the bird table and the two of them disappeared in a flurry of fury. The next time I saw a Robin at the bird table I knew instantly from the way it moved and looked at me that it wasn’t Pugnacious and I never saw him ever again.
I have had 3 other Robins since that followed the same pattern of feisty to curious to friendship but none were as brilliant as Pugnacious.
They do think they own gardens and property is their game but if you give them time they go all soft and want to become friends. They are truly brilliant.
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Oh Mark. That is a truly beautiful story. I can see it all and hear it! And your poem sounds exactly like a robin! I don’t think I ever had a robin that has ever got as close as this little one. Fancy you having had three! Mine is called ‘Twearly’…. ( der! ) by default really because it twirls around out there in a dance ( or he is having a scratch) and he flips funny in the bath and he suddenly appears and flits around ( under your feet). I don’t know how far and wide his territory is, but he spends a great deal of time round this garden for sure. He can be heard when-ever you want hear him…. which sounds unbelievable but true! It is such a charming song….. and it feels such a great compliment that such a dear little wild nervous creature can pick your space and actually stay. Did you ever take photos of your robin or did it just leave those indelible animated words in you? I am hoping this little fella sticks round long enough for me to snap him pretty in the snow, if and when it comes. There was a rainbow out there the other day, while he was sitting on the fence but I couldn’t (of course) line him up with it and the camera…. which would have been nice!
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One of the best robins I have seen:)
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Thank you Janet. He is a bit of a show off!
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He does look a little dis-chuffed. The scene was definitely more Summer than Winter though.
xxx Huge Hugs xxx
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He needs a bit of photo shop snow. That is a bit beyond me! ❤
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This is is beautiful! Little birdy
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you are so right! ❤
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Robins always make me miss England – nothing a good cup of tea and hitting up Dr Who on Netflix won’t cure. 🙂
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I thought robins lived in New York! 🙂
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Not cute little robins in N.Y.—We got big mean robins with too much street sense 🙂
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haha. Not even a little Christmas Robin in NY snow?
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You made me laugh, Gill. Thank you SO much! LOL Love, Amy
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Glad I made you laugh Amy. Take care 🙂
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Awwww. I want, I want!
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