A very foggy morning
Two mornings later, as fog creeps across the river and envelops the plot, the boldest robin decides to try and compete with the fox for ‘nature-based encounter of the week’. As I hold out my suet-filled hand by the post on which I place the crumbs, the bird dips and dithers further down the fence, getting nearer and nearer with each bounce. Then, swoop! Onto my hand, pick out the largest crumb, and away. This is repeated twice more and then it retreats, and flies off – but not far. A beady eye watches me as I work hard to pull up the comfrey that has taken over a previously clear piece of ground, disturbing insects as I work. Each time I move away, the robin is there, ferreting around in the soil to find what juicy morsels have been disturbed.
The bold robin
After an emotionally difficult day yesterday, the presence of this little bird, and all the other natural features that envelop me here, on my plot, work their magic again. I even spend half an hour, when the fog clears and the sun comes out, just sitting and watching a fluffy white cloud being overtaken by one with a grey belly, which reaches smoky tendrils towards it, finally merging with it. I have never seen that before – it’s probably common, but I don’t take the time to really stop and notice things – and it leaves me with a sense of profound awe at the beauty and intricacy of nature.
Fluffy white cloud over the allotment
Before I can get too poetic, though, loud ‘chacks’ from behind the plot rouse me from my reverie: a flock of fifty or so jackdaws heading south. Large flocks of these birds are often seen around here in October. They could be first-year birds moving south for the winter (adult breeders tend to be sedentary) or just birds that are out searching for the day’s food.
Addendum: pleased with my success at ‘robin-taming’, two days later, when Ma and I go to spend our usual Saturday morning on the plot, I encourage her to hold out some suet crumbs and see if the robin will take them from her hand. Well, the bird flies from the water butt onto Ma’s shoulder and back again, then onto her outstretched arm, and then onto her palm. Ma is made up and I am *not* jealous at all. This tiny, cock-sure little bird is certainly punching above its weight in terms of the positive effect it is having!
Ma and the allotment robin