THE ROBIN - Singing and Ringing in Spring

Everyone has their favorite sign of spring. Some judge its arrival by various plants like the pussy willows or emerging tulips, or the return of wild geese, honking as they fly northward.

But for me, when I hear the first carols of the robins as they go bob, bob, bobbing on the greening backyard lawn, I get a feeling of optimism and glee that spring has sprung. Known to prefer an environment around homes and farmsteads, the robins will hurry and scurry to construct their nests in our high, dense rhododendrons at the side of our house. They are not opposed to building on flat surfaces under our deck, or on a man-made nesting platform either.

The true robin redbreast is a native of the Old World. Our robin in the United States is a thrush, but the pioneers named it the robin in remembrance of the bird that was common on the English countryside.

Nesting Platform

The nests of the robin is made of mud and lined with grass. The eggs are a pale, bluish green which we refer to as “robin’s egg blue.” They prefer to eat worms and fruit. Many times in July, I find them scouting my blueberry bushes for the first ripened fruit. If I put a net over the bushes, they often find a way in—by sneaking underneath the covering.

During spring, summer, and fall, I keep a bird bath near our patio. You can see them lined up, waiting to take a bath as soon as I replenish the bowl with fresh water. Then, I have to clean it again, since my little feathered friends have mud on their feet.

Folklore tells us that many people believe a visit from a robin is a sign that a lost relative is visiting them. Or in the spiritual world, the robin is viewed as a symbol of visits from deceased loved ones. I prefer the more modern symbol associated with the robin—a new beginning, new life, fortune and good luck. And of course, they’re my harbinger of spring. 

 

                               For my books, please visit my Amazon Author Page

 

JUNE has busted out all over!

June has busted out all over. With all the wet stuff falling from the sky, the month has lived up to the phrase, “Rain in June is a silver spoon.”

The landscape centers and greenhouses are stuffed with trays of flowers and potted plants. My neighborhood is a kaleidoscope of flowerbeds, filled with marigolds, petunias, dianthus, and other vibrant blossoms  Even my frosted ferns have sent up fiddle heads that have unfurled into leafy fronds, ’though not as high and lush as in other years.

In the wisteria beside out backdoor deck, the robins have hatched three little ones and are busy feeding them. This year we have a robin's nest in the rhododendrons and bushes on four sides of our house. Here is a little one that fell into one of our buckets and was rescued by my husband. 

And speaking of birds, my feeders with sunflower seeds, mixed songbird seed, and Nyjer seed are emptied each day. The pesky, unruly grackles, perching in the adjacent treetops and singing their creaking, grating songs, have found a way to balance upside down on the suit cake and try their best to devour it before the woodpeckers.

I’m especially proud of my bucket garden which is thriving. It’s a work in progress. I’m learning the ropes and have my fingers crossed. We already have lettuce and parsley.  

What do I miss most about the month of June? The sweet smell of new mown alfalfa or clover drying in the farm fields.  Maybe it’s time to take a ride into the countryside nearby to find a hay field and get the repetitious, famous lyrics of Carousel by Rogers and Hammerstein out of my head:  just because it’s June, June, June!

Before I forget, HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS 

                                                             releases on the 24th as well. 

                                                     PREORDER:  https://tinyurl.com/y9q7lr33