I took these shots at the end of the day after shooting Robins most of the afternoon as seen in the previous post. I had to be quick as the sunset went very quickly. I really liked the way the sun lit up the bottom of the dark clouds. I need to get into this Skywatch thing I supppose.
Friday, 20 February 2009
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
The Robin [Redbreast]
The Robin is one of my favourite birds. It has got to be the most widely recognised bird in Britain - surely even the most disinterested person could correctly identify the Robin if asked. The Robin can be quite tame - I have often stood chatting to one a few feet away when digging the vegetable patch in our garden (or resting more likely!). I often hear the sharp tic tic warning call when Sable (our cat) is wandering around. During the heavy snow we had recently you could see several Robins all together feeding without the usual brawling that often happens when two or more of the birds are in close proximity. The following shots were all taken recently on one of those snowy days when I had nothing better to do!
The Robin has a well documented place in our folklore and a quick trawl of the Internet threw up the following. The Robin has always been seen as an emblem of charity and piety. Shakespeare described the Robin as the "Ruddock with charitable bill" and William Wordsworth asked, "Art thou the bird whom man loves best/The pious bird with the scarlet breast/Our little English Robin?"
"Call for the Robin Redbreast and the Wren'
Killing a Robin was meant to be bad luck - your hands would not stop shaking. Breaking the birds eggs was equally bad, resulting in something valuable belonging to the person responsible being broken.
In his poem, Winter, James Thomson (1726-1744) described the tameness of Robins at Christmas:
"The redbreast sacred to the household gods,
Hmmm. I have never had one alight on our hearth but have seen them feeding from peoples hands.
The are a number of tales about how the Robin got his red breast and these primarily have religious themes and involve acts of kindness. It is said that a Robin picked one of the thorns from the crown worn by Jesus on his head when he was crucified. The bird was either splattered with Jesus' blood or pricked its own chest depending on which version you prefer. Another tale says that the red breast resulted from the bird being singed when it was taking water to sinners in hell. Yet another says that it happened when a Robin was fanning a fire to warm the baby Jesus at Christmas.
Robins are also associated with dead bodies! Apparently, if a Robin came across a dead body it would cover it with moss or leaves. John Webster wrote in his play, The White Devil,
"Call for the Robin Redbreast and the Wren'
Since over shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover,
The friendless bodies of unburied men."
In the fable, "The babes in the woods", (not to be confused with a later pantomime) two young children come to a sad end. The last verses of a poem by Thomas Percy goes:
"Thus wandered these two prettye babes,
Till death did end their grief;
In one another's armes they dyed,
As babes wanting relief.
No burial these prettye babes,
Of any man receives,
Till Robin-redbreast painfully,
Did cover them with leaves."
Robins are are also supposed to be reliable - or otherwise - weather forecasters. If a bird sang on top of a bush then the weather would be warm but if the bird sang from within the bush then rain was on the way. Check it out next time you see a Robin singing!
Killing a Robin was meant to be bad luck - your hands would not stop shaking. Breaking the birds eggs was equally bad, resulting in something valuable belonging to the person responsible being broken.
Perhaps the most obvious link is between Robins and Christmas, particularly as a subject of Christmas cards (I am thinking of making my own this year!!). Apparently postmen in Victorian times were called "Robin Redbreasts" because of the uniforms they wore.
In his poem, Winter, James Thomson (1726-1744) described the tameness of Robins at Christmas:
"The redbreast sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
His shivering mates, and pays to trusted man
His annual visit. Half afraid, he first
Against the window beats; then brisk alights
On the warm hearth; then, hopping o'er the floor,
Eyes all the smiling family askance,
And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is-
Till, more familiar grown, the table crumbs
Attract his slender feet."
Hmmm. I have never had one alight on our hearth but have seen them feeding from peoples hands.
Robins are truly a beautiful bird and I, for one, am glad that they have developed an affinity for people. Perhaps I will leave the patio doors open (if not in deep winter!) one time to see if I can entice a Robin in to feast on some lovely bird seed by our hearth..........!
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