“Good morning, fella.” I always talk to robins whenever I see them and one was sitting on the wall as I opened the bedroom curtains. We’re fortunate to have a couple who visit the back garden and another at the front.

They seem friendlier and more intelligent than other birds as they tilt their heads, beaks pert and chirruping like they have something meaningful to impart. I often think the one at the front makes eye contact with us purposefully through the window whenever the bird feeding-station needs replenishing. Perhaps it’s the same tiny character that was sitting on our kitchen cupboard when I went in there unexpectedly on a spring day. I was highly delighted, as he fluttered up onto the windowsill and then to the cherry tree as if having done so on several occasions – and maybe he has.

I ran a gift and art shop a few years ago and discovered, when talking to customers buying robin decorations, that some people believe that the real little creatures are messengers from lost loved ones. I’m not sure where the idea derived from, but it’s a comforting thought.

It’s always more pleasing to see them at this time of year. The season to be jolly, and they certainly look the part wearing nature’s brown jackets and red waistcoats. They have featured on so many Christmas cards, starting in 1840 when the penny post was introduced. Back then, Victorian postmen wore red jackets, and were nicknamed ‘Robins’ by some. Or maybe our feathered friends appeared on the cards purely because their plumage and birdsong are at their best throughout December. Whatever the reason, they’re very pretty and considered lucky, especially for the winter solstice.

I’m reminded of Christmas books I’ve had forever and I quickly find one with a poem by William Wordsworth inside called ‘The Robin’, it’s short but sweet, but you might like to look it up.

Until next week.
Sue. X