The cheeky Robin Redbreast is back. As I mow the lawn he watches me from a few feet away. There is no bird like him for his fearlessness and apparent interest in what we humans are up to. Of course it's the worms he's after but given other birds also keep an eye open for food, it's his apparent lack of fear when so many other birds fly a mile at the sight of a human. What is it in his psychology that allows him to treat us as if perhaps not a friend, at least not to be feared.
Is it seeing his picture on the Christmas card makes him presuppose we like him. Does his red breast indicate a full heart ❤️ courageous and courtly such that whilst being so small he can communicate a sort of equanimity.
Of course it was the nightingale who pierced her heart to make the white rose red for the Prince. I think the robin is too shrewd for that, he has covered most eventualities and won me over with his pluck and fortitude.
I pause my mowing sensible to the moment, sharing the moment with something so fragile so small and vulnerable but with that bright chest puffed out like a Regimental Sergeant Major in the Coldstream Guards. Don't mess with me he says, get on with the mowing I can't wait all day for the worms.
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