Of the birds I see regularly, the majestic red kite is probably my favourite. I have a soft spot for the attractively awkward grey heron and purposeful looking grebe.
All of which means I’m out of step with the Great British public which a few years ago voted the robin as their favourite bird. It was clear winner taking 34% of the vote, with the birds in second and third place, the barn owl and the blackbird, taking only 12% and 11% respectively.
It’s not hard to see why robins are so popular, they appear very friendly to us, humans. They will sit and staying sitting on branches as you walk by, often singing loudly. They regularly appear next to you when you’re gardening. However, they are less ‘friendly’ to other birds as they are aggressively territorial and quick to drive off others intruding on their space.
Their appeal is heightened by the fact that they are attractive little birds with their famous red breasts. The red patches actually cover their faces as well. Proportionally they have a large head and large eyes, something a cartoonist will tell helps to make them more appealing.
The red ‘bib’ which both males and females have, is separated from their brown upperparts by a band of blue-grey. Their beaks are dark brown as are their long legs.
While robins are associated with winter and Christmas in particular, more of which later, it is ever present bird and one that sings almost all year round. The exception being a short period in late summer while they are moulting.
The ‘song’ is distinctive and has evoked numerous almost poetic descriptions, this one is from https://sussexwildlifetrust.org.uk/news/robin-bird-song
“The song itself often consists of a number of high-pitched, drawn-out notes which quickly descend in pitch, but increase in speed. It has a wistful, but perky manner and flows nicely, even allowing for the pauses between verses. The faster bits tend to include sections of soft trembling and squeakier notes. Ultimately the song has a procession of new verses, repetition (is) not a trait. Some verses are quick, some are slow, some are soft, some are loud and there's something nostalgic and entirely contemplative about the way the robin sings.”
The actual songs do vary across the seasons; the spring song which can start as early as mid-December, reaches full ‘volume’ in March and April. The spring song has a dual role firstly to defend its territory and secondly to attract a mate. Not surprisingly the males’ singing is louder and more powerful during this the breeding season.
The autumn song is more subdued and more melancholy in tone. I’ll refrain from saying anything about the effects of married life at this point.
Robins’ appeal is reflected in the many and different ways they have been incorporated into our folklore and culture.
Most famously Robins are associated with Christmas. They are regularly featured on Christmas cards, a tradition which can be traced back to the mid-19th century. They have also appeared on numerous Christmas postage stamps.
In Victorian Britain postmen, delivering these and other Christmas cards, as well as the rest of the post, were nicknamed “Robins” because of the red-breasted jackets that were part of their uniform.
Robins have another ‘link’ to Christianity thanks to an old folk tale about how the robin got its red breast. The story goes that when Jesus was dying on the cross, a robin, then simply brown in colour, flew to his side and sang into his ear in order to comfort him and relieve some of his pain. The blood from his wounds ran onto and stained the robin's breast, and ever since then all robins have carried the mark of Christ's blood.
An alternative less well-known origin story also includes a link to Jesus. This story says that when the baby Jesus was in his manger in the stable, a fire which had been lit to help keep him warm suddenly started to blaze up. A brown Robin, noticing that Mary had been distracted by the inn-keeper’s wife, placed himself between the fire and Jesus. This brave little robin fluffed out its feathers to protect the baby and despite being scotched continued to protect Jesus until Mary’s attention returned to her baby. The now red plumage was subsequently passed onto all future generations of robins.
As I have said it’s not my favourite but one thing that puts them in my good books is their acceptance of humans which does mean I can try and get numerous close-up shots of them.
Postscript I mentioned seeing Woody again last week and just in case you’re missing the beautifully patterned one winged wonder.
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