Guess who’s back in town. Yup, the smiles on people’s faces say it all. In fact, several of our local coffee companions have shared their delight in word and image over the return of robins.
William Hayes wrote as commentary on the photo at top of the accompanying collage:
“I see the return of the robin as a clear sign of hope for what is yet to come. What a delight to see the orange breast of the robin against the sparkling white snow. It is pure Joy to the heart to hear the robin sing. Each day brings more daylight. Winter is almost over.”
Then there’s this from Judith Sikorski, about the “fat redbreast” on a neighbour’s tree overhanging into her yard (lower right photo):
“March 20th was kind of a gloomy, snowy day! From my kitchen window I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. So, when I looked, I caught a glimpse of red. I have to say, I can't wait to see my first robin of the season. They are such harbingers of Spring! They bring colour to dull days! Their cheery song brings melody to an otherwise silent, snowy world. This one certainly brought happiness to my heart!”
And, of course, my wife Mary Anna enjoyed her recent apple-tree experience from our bedroom window (lower left photo):
“A snowfall on a late March morning? Oh, no, it's the return of winter! Time once more to get out the winter coats, boots, mitts and snow brushes, I thought gloomily. Some movement in the apple tree outside our bedroom window caught my eye. To my amazement, a whole flock of robins had landed on the snow-covered branches and were hungrily feeding on the dried apples left from last fall. Winter isn't here to stay after all, I realized, and thanked the robins for brightening my day.”
To add a twist to these robin encounters, but without a photo, Elaine Phillips wrote about the impact on her of a South African Robin:
“Growing up in South Africa, I was surrounded by colourful birds large and small, my favourite being the lovely lilac-breasted roller. But three decades ago, I was introduced to a fine-feathered friend whose very presence made my heart sing. I’d stroll into our garden and spy him in a sunny spot, enjoying the warmth after a rainy day. Or I’d round a corner and unexpectedly find him coming towards me.”
In fact, when she moved to Cochrane some years ago, that creature accompanied her as “a daily song of comfort and cheer,” prompting the rich emotions of which our other contributors speak. “Invariably, my face lights up at the sight of this South African Robin, whatever the season or location,” Elaine exults. “He is a welcome presence in my life and a daily sign of hope.”
Elaine’s speaking, of course, about none other than Robin Phillips, her husband. And about his robinesque presence in her life, she adds a fitting conclusion to this week’s column: “May we all have the gift of knowing someone whose very existence brings a song to our hearts and a smile to our lips.”
Thanks, William, Judith, Mary Anna and Elaine, for these thoughts.
© 2024 Warren Harbeck
