American Robin
At the confluence of serendipity & symbolism sits this red-breasted beauty. He appeared in my backyard for the first time yesterday, a dandelion wish finally realized.
I’d search the skies above our new home for more than a year, believed beyond reason that our backyard would one day be graced by a robin’s cheerful song. And just before sunset, without advance warning or fanfare, hope perched its chubby self on my back fence.
He foraged in my flowerbed, splashed in the birdbath, and surveyed the hillside beyond our fence before flying home to his own nest. I’m hoping he’ll return, but even if he doesn’t, I’m over-the-moon happy about this visit.
Blog title courtesy of Dean Martin.
Your pictures and prose do not fail to make me smile!!!
That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Swapping stories, sharing our light (and lightness of being). xo
Nice
Oops, I totally forgot to check for comments until…guess what? I saw a robin again today, for the second in as many days. 🙂
It’s funny how prized a bird can be based on its local rarity. For me, a bald eagle is still a rare treat, but I know there are places they’ve become common.
A Steller’s jay was a bird I long wanted to see, and finally did, and then realized that where they flourish they are considered pests.
We have robins galore here, so I’ve never thought of them as a bird to hope and wait for, but you’ve opened my eyes.
MY nana used to say: “In the darkest days of winter, look to the skies and listen for the robins…”
And guess what? For the second in as many days, a robin perched on my back fence. They’re not common here, so I feel incredibly lucky.