It has been a while since I have turned my lens to birds, having been rather preoccupied with all things macro i.e. flowers, amphibians and insects. Spending last Tuesday at my sister’s house, where she is lucky to get a good number of avian visitors to her garden gave me the perfect opportunity to dig out the long lens.
My sister moved to her new house a year ago. During one of my first visits I encountered a friendly robin in the graveyard next door. Sitting on top of a lichen flecked gravestone, he was quite relaxed in my presence. European robins (Erithacus rubecula) are among the most tame garden birds in the UK. Over the past year he has become a familiar and welcome sight in the garden and is bold enough to take food from one’s hand.
I watch him flitting around the garden gathering worms, caterpillars and flies, their legs protruding awkwardly from his beak. Earlier in the Spring he attracted a mate and now has his own family to feed. His daily routine is currently centred around gathering enough food to satisfy the shrill, gaping mouths of his chicks.
Eating lunch outside, it is impossible to get any peace. A free lunch that doesn’t fly, wriggle or run away is an easy meal for a robin and the cake crumbs on our plates prove too much to resist. He surveys the scene from a fence post, then almost as if he had teleported appears on the arched back of the chair next to me, red breast puffed out. In the blink of an eye he is on the table. He confidently steps onto the edge of the plate pecking the few remaining chocolate crumbs out of the white, frilly paper cases in an audacious act of daylight robbery.
The sun is hot so I seek shade under a small apple tree. I have put some raisins in a pot of pansies in the hope of getting a cheesy shot of him amongst the flowers. I sit quietly with my camera and wait…..
I am forced to duck as a small plump body swoops above my head. I look up and there he is, perched upon a branch in the apple tree, no more than a foot away. I have made the mistake of keeping the remaining raisins in a clear plastic bag next to me. The ones in clear view in the pot appear to have gone unnoticed. His beady black eye quizzes me optimistically.
I get up and show him the raisins in the plant pot. He hops onto my camera, peering down at the bag full of treats. The two raisins that I have put out are just not good enough. Who am I kidding? Why would he bother with two when there is a whole bagfull going spare? Eventually he gets the idea and I manage to snatch a few shots of him amid the pansies. A minute later he is back; an incoming feathery missile. I duck again. He lands beside me in the tree, then his head tilts back and he opens his beak wide emitting a burst of song. I’ve never been this close before, never heard the rich resonance of the notes at this volume. I listen in awe as the remarkable little soloist recites his vibrant song, far too close to get a shot.
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