He looks harmless enough, no?
First Robin of Spring.
Robin's Donuts (mmmmm donuts....).
He's even been immortalized as a comicbook hero's faithful, but rather erm, wimpy sidekick.
But don't be fooled.
He is a terror in the skies. Swooping down mercilessly; attacking anyone who dares venture outdoors. With a rust-coloured blur disturbingly close to your head, he protects his domain... all intruders and unsuspecting passers-by are targets for his wrath.
Hubby, me and even our dog have been victims of his Hitchcock-style air-raids.
But this past weekend I fearlessly screwed up what little I had of my courage and spent Saturday tending my garden* in the backyard. As I emerged from our garage back door, sure enough the ambush began.
He turned for a second strike in his stragetic bombing mission.
But I stuck to my guns... I stubbornly stayed outside and began my work. So his next fear tactic commenced. He resorted to jabbering loudly at me as I crouched on the ground, digging in the dirt ignoring his taunts and threats.
This did not please him at all. He hopped on the fence. He jumped to the garage roof. He flew to the tree. All in an effort to scare me away. But I held my ground and he had to accept my presence; but he was still unsure... I could feel his beady black eyes watching my every move the entire time.
And then I spotted the reason for all his agitation. There perched amongst the Virginia Creeper I had woven onto new brackets to frame our back garage door.
Okay, so I'll forgive him, as long as he doesn't poke my eyes out or resort to pooping on me as I enter and exit.
And I have to admit, he's deserving of a great Father's Day on the 20th. After all, he's doing a good job being a protective Daddy Robin.
* By "garden" I really mean my impressivly robust crop of weeds. If only dandelions were hailed as a miraculous new and healthy food source. I would be a kajillionaire for sure.
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