Winter Robins

 

There are a lot of robins around my place today! Click on this photo to enlarge. See five? They were among a few dozen that were feeding on fallen holly fruit amid a noisy flappy fluttering of wings. 

 

There were more across the street under another holly tree, also eating berries. I estimate that I saw about 100 robins on my morning walk.

Contrary to popular belief, our robins don't all fly south for the winter, nor do they all suddenly return in spring. They do disappear from our lawns when worms and insects become scarce. They switch to dry fruits and berries. Some may fly to other locations seeking food. Want to read more about it? Click on this sentence to go to an earlier blog with lots more details. And do not worry, spring will come. Fifty-two days and counting.

The Midpoint of Winter

 

We just passed the midpoint of winter, February 1, which is halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Yay! If we were ancient Celts we would have just celebrated the holiday of Imbolc.

And if we were celebrating Imbolc, we might have checked around to see if any snakes had come out of their burrows to predict the duration of winter weather in accordance with the legend. 

Wait -- we still do that on Groundhog Day, but with groundhogs instead of snakes, right? Turns out that they are equally good at meteorological prognostication. The 2024 groundhog did not see it's shadow. That foretells a smooth path to an early spring. The National Weather Service is predicting the same thing. Let the gardening begin! 

Also, February 2 was Candlemas Day for Christians. The holiday occurs 40 days after Christmas and according to some marks the end of the Christmas season. One of the nice things about Candlemas is that there is a high probability of being able to eat pancakes or tamales.

These winter-blooming snowdrop flowers are also known as Candlemas flowers. They are winter-hardy early bloomers that will push up through snow and frozen ground to appear in time for Candlemas. Mine are always on time. Click to enlarge.

Also note that there are crocuses blooming in my yard right now. Local sunset will be at 5:23 today and 5:24 tomorrow.

So, even though it may have seemed like an uneventful week, it was not.

Snow!

 

It snowed! Click to enlarge.

 

The snow reminds me of this stanza from In the Bleak Midwinter by Christina Rossetti: 

 

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

 

Bleak indeed. No bugs or worms to eat, only dry berries.

More Daylight

I invite you to think back to the winter solstice on December 21, 2021, about two and a half weeks ago. On that day the sun set at 4:42 (in Philadelphia). Click to enlarge.

Now fast forward to today, January 9, 2022. The sun will set at 4:57. That's 15 more minutes of daylight! We are making steady progress through the winter.

Spring is waiting in the wings.

A Special Robin Appears

I took a socially distanced walk yesterday. Saw lots of robins on lawns. This one is our standard robin model for today's blog.

Good looking, right? Then the one below came along...

It has white feathers all over its head and a white patch on its back. Not your standard robin. It's leucistic; it has a genetic condition that causes pigment processing failure in some of its feathers. Note that it's not an albino, which would be colorless with pink eyes. Click to enlarge.

It's a good look, right? I see a couple of pale splotches down near the tail. I hope this bird hangs around for the season. I'd like to see if it has spotted chicks.

Interesting!

A Spring Day

I saw this American robin with wings stretched out soaking up sun in the park. My camera click disturbed him  and he folded up and flew away. It was a great day to appreciate spring with blue sky, warm sunlight, and soft breezes reminding me of this poem by Billy Collins. (Click the photo to enlarge.) 

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect, 

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw 

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,

indeed, to rip the little door from its jamb, 

a day when the cool brick paths 

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants 

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

And here's a picture of my neighborhood to prove it! A path to the Brooklyn Heights Promenade with the skyline of lower Manhattan across the East River. 

Almost Spring

This is how it was around here last week -- all insects in crocus blossoms and the tossing off of overcoats. Click to enlarge. 

The birds were singing and making plans. This robin looks particularly ready and eager. 

But instead of more of this...

This again!
On Tuesday Philadelphia and New York City are expecting as much as a foot of snow, and possibly more. This calls for a poem. 

While yet we wait for spring, And from the dry 

by Robert Seymour Bridges

While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry

And blackening east that so embitters March,

Well-housed must watch grey fields and meadows parch,

And driven dust and withering snowflake fly;

Already in glimpses of the tarnish'd sky

The sun is warm and beckons to the larch,

And where the coverts hazels interarch

Their tassell'd twigs, fair beds of primrose lie.

Beneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid

A million buds but stay their blossoming;

And trustful birds have built their nests amid

The shuddering boughs, and only wait to sing 

Till one soft shower from the south shall bid,

And hither tempt the pilgrim steps of spring. 

Parti-colored Starling

Only kidding. It's so cold and rainy outside that I spent most of it sitting in a comfortable chair playing games and some of it creating imaginary birds with Photoshop from my archive of bird images. Click to enlarge. 

Here's another. I call it a green-belted hawk. 

How about a pink-winged mockingbird? 

Or a blue-breasted robin. Had enough? Here's a bird poem instead. 

A Bird Came Down the Walk 

by Emily Dikinson

A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw; 
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,- 
They looked like frightened beads, I thought; 
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.

And this is what the birds above really look like: 

European Starling -- Sturnus vulgaris

Red-tailed hawk -- Buteo jamaicensis

Northern Mockingbird -- Mimus polyglottos

American Robin -- Turdus migratorius

First Snow

We had our first substantial snowfall in Brooklyn this week. I am always impressed at how well the birds endure the cold winter weather; see how the sparrows on my fence puffed up their feathers for maximum insulation. Click to enlarge. 

I provided a breakfast buffet for the birds the next morning. There are always European house sparrows like these around happy to accept a handout. 

This extra cold looking mourning dove had some seeds, too. 

And my favorite -- a winter robin -- ate some raisins. We'll see more of this guy in the coming months. He looks great on a white winter background, doesn't he? 

A Downy Woodpecker

This cute downy woodpecker, Picoides pubescens,  landed in a tree near me while I was taking a walk earlier this week. He sat in this vertical pose, typical for a woodpecker, just long enough for a quick photo. Click to enlarge. 

Woodpeckers have a few special features that help them sit upright clinging to the sides of trees, and also to climb up, down, and sideways on tree trunks while pecking for insects. First, like most woodpeckers, this downy's feet have two toes that face foreword and two that face back. It's called a zygodactyl foot. And second, he has a few stiffened tail feathers that act like a prop for support. He can sit quite comfortably in an upright position on the side of a tree or vertical branch. Click here for a close up of a downy woodpecker's foot. 

Most perching birds have a different arrangement of toes -- like this robin. Notice how three of his toes face foreword and one faces back. It's called an anisodactyl foot and is the most common kind of bird foot. 

Happy New Year... 5777

The Jewish NewYear 5777 begins today. I'm relaxing and thinking about what kind of sweet dessert to make. I'm pretty sure it will use apples and brown sugar and I'll borrow some raisins from the supply we bought for the birds. These days two and sometimes three robins show up on my porch every morning for a breakfast of raisins, so we use them up pretty fast. The robin above is hanging around hoping for a few. 

The female cardinal pictured above is usually waiting in the morning, too,  and she brings a begging baby; she hops over to the window sill and looks in if I'm not there soon enough for her schedule. She says "CHIP!" to get my attention and I give her a peanut, which she breaks into small pieces to feed beak-to-beak to the baby. I can't show a photo because they let me watch them but both grab their peanuts and fly away when I point a camera at them. Click to enlarge. 

So for dessert I think I'll stew tart apples in butter with brown sugar, pie spices, and a few of the robins' raisins, and then pour it over yogurt. Sounds good, right? We can eat it while watching the birds outside the window having their own feast of raisins and peanuts.

Happy Parents' Day

National Parents' Day is the fourth Sunday in July -- that's today!  Here's an American robin feeding its hungry chick for the occasion. Click on the photo to enlarge. 

How Cold Is It?

The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around,
With a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.

The wintry hedge was black; 
The green grass was not seen;
The birds did rest
On the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds over many a crack
Which the frost had made between... 

by Percy Bysshe Shelley -- from The Cold Earth Slept Below

It's that cold! It was a record-breaking -1F last night in Central Park. Meanwhile on my Brooklyn porch, the birds at the feeder have their feathers maximally puffed up and their feet tucked in. Here are my two favorite raisin eaters posing on the planters.

The northern mockingbird. 

The winter robin. 

A Warm December

This is how I expect December to look in Brooklyn. Click to enlarge. 

This is what I'm seeing instead. Flowers are blooming all over the place. A pink begonia bud opened on my (outdoor!) porch this morning and the pansies and marigolds out there look better than they did in September.  

The trees around Brooklyn City Hall burst into flower this week. 

Why so warm? According to the National Atmospheric and Oceanic Administration (NOAA), a positive  "Arctic Oscillation" has shifted jet streams northward, and has trapped cold air up there since November. Good! I vote to enjoy it while we can and to walk around coatless, marveling at all the December blossoms.

The birds seem to be having an easy time and I have not yet started feeding them. So far, no winter robins have been driven to my door, no cardinals are waiting at the windows in the morning. But remember that polar vortex? I bet it won't be long until we are complaining about the cold and the view from my window looks like this -- snow in the background, not flowers. 

The easy weather made me think of  this poem by Robert Service called Courage:

Today I opened wide my eyes,

And stared with wonder and surprise, 

To see beneath November skies

An apple blossom peer:

Upon a branch as bleak as night

It gleamed exultant on my sight, 

A fairy beacon burning bright

Of hope and cheer. 

'Alas!' said I, 'poor foolish thing,

Have you mistaken this for Spring?

Behold, the thrush has taken wing, 

And Winter's near.'

Serene it seemed to lift its head;

'The Winter's wrath I do not dread, 

Because I am,' it proudly said,

'A Pioneer.

'Some apple blossom must be first,

With beauty's urgency to burst 

Into a world for joy athirst,

And so I dare;

And I shall see what none shall see -- 

December skies gloom over me,

And mock them with my April glee,

And fearless fare. 

'And I shall hear what none shall hear --

The hardy robin piping clear,

The Storm King gallop dark and drear

Across the sky;

And I shall know what none shall know -- 

The silent kisses of the snow,

The Christmas candles' silver glow,

Before I die.

'Then from your frost-gemmed window pane

One morning you will look in vain,

My smile of delicate disdain

No more to see;

But though I pass before my time,

And perish in the grale and grime, 

Maybe you'll have a little rhyme

To spare for me.'