Monday, January 13, 2014

13:01:14 Robin

One of my things I hoped to see while away was a robin. I remember as a child sitting quietly by the back kitchen door watching the bread crumbs I had scattered on the frosty patio slabs and waiting, waiting, waiting patiently for the robin to come down from the tree to eat them. Such a tiny bird and such a beautiful red chest. I was really happy when I managed to take this photo of one on an early morning walk.

There is an Irish Folk tale about how the robin got his red breast. I found a version of it online which I will share with you here...

How the Robin Got His Red Breast (based on an Irish folk tale)

retold by Cathy S. Mosley

Many years ago, late in the year, a cruel wind brought biting cold weather; making the night more bitter for a father and son who had traveled far, and still had farther to go. They had sought a cottage, a barn, or even a tree - anyplace they could seek shelter. But there was nothing to be seen or found, except for a bush, and at last the father built a fire and told his son to try and sleep a little. And when the father's eyes began to droop he woke his son,and bid him watch the fire. Oh how the boy tried to stay awake! But he hadn't really slept while lying on the frozen ground and he was still exhausted from the walk. His eyes got lower. His head got lower. The fire got lower. So low in fact that a starving wolf began to inch nearer the sleeping pair. But there was one who was awake. There was one who saw everything from amidst the barren bush; a little bird who was as gray as the brambly wood. The bird hopped down and began fanning the flickering embers until the flames began to lick out hungrily; nor did the little bird stop, despite the pain on his breast, until the flames were dancing with strength. And from that day on the Robin has proudly worn a red breast.

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