written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Showing posts with label Robins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robins. Show all posts

Friday, 19 December 2025

Robins

The English robin is a bird rather smaller than a sparrow, in build between a thrush and a warbler, uniform brown on the upper parts, with an orange red breast and white abdomen. It is widely distributed through the woodlands of Europe, and in Britain is also a familiar garden bird.

Stephen Moss quoting the great ornithologist, David Lock in his 'The Life of the Robin', 1943.

Isn’t there something heart-warming about our avian friend, who is a feature on our Christmas cards in the last month of our year and in the winter season? This is an image on a card I received from my dear friend, J this year.*


It is archetypal of the rather romantic picture we have of a lone songster in a bleak and hostile environment, its red breast puffed out, perhaps indicating to us hope of the new year and the warmer climate of spring to come.

This blog will give insight into the realities of this beautiful and familiar bird that has found its way into every art form involving the visual, aural and even the kinaesthetic. You will learn how and why it should be associated with the Christmas season and its actual relevance to the Christian religion.

Bird lovers, you will also know what you should leave out for them in a freezing cold winter.

Well, here goes. We will start with robin statistics.
Height: 5.5 inches, 14 cm
Wingspan: 8.4 inches, 21 cm
Weight 18 g approximately
Lifespan: 1-2 years

It has a membership of the largest of all the world bird orders – the Passeriforms. This bracket of bird includes almost half of the world’s species. Four thousand, like the robin are songbirds.

The robin is the only species on its individual genus Erithacus. There are one hundred different robins and some species of birds termed robins are not really robins at all. There will be more on this later.

Their plumage is not always so colourful. Juvenile robins, which are around in the spring seasons, are brown, mottled and often speckled in appearance. Only adults have the familiar orangey-red feathers. Females and males are identical in appearance.

In the UK we think of it as British. In fact, robins inhabit Europe, from Gibraltar to beyond the Arctic Circle, the Middle East, Central Asia and North Africa. Robins in Eastern Europe leave their breeding ground in autumn where they look for warmer climates, including the UK.

The actual nature of this bird suggests Tennyson’s description of nature in his poem In Memoriam, A. H.H. as,

“red in tooth and claw”.

According to Stephen Moss, author of 'The Robin: a Biography', they are vicious and when competing for a mate, duel their rival to death. Their mating season starts in January.

There is one reason this male sings so sweetly. It is to breed, their sole purpose and instinct in life. The song is a call to a mate. They often die shortly after this. They are territorial and defensive of territory they establish, frequenting cities and the countryside, often inhabiting woodland areas.

In March and April their song is continuous, but the aim is to repel other males. Once they have their territory established, they begin nest building, egg laying and finding food for their hungry chicks, particularly vulnerable at this time to jays and magpies, which prey on the chicks. 
In the autumn, the juveniles develop their beautiful bright coat.

Why should these birds be on Christmas cards? Interestingly, they do have a connection with Christianity. Among ancient folklore is a tale about a robin trying to keep the baby Jesus’ fire lit, and doing so, scorching its breast, symbolizing its devotion. Mary then humbly declares that its red breast is to be handed down to its descendants.

There is also a connection to the crucifixion. Another legend concerns a crown of thorns, which a robin plucks from Jesus’ crown when he is on the cross, which leads to its breast being stained with blood.

During the Victorian era the new tradition of sending Christmas cards emerged because of the development in printing, which led to robins being a favourite on cards. Sir Henry Cole sent the first Christmas card in 1843 then the size of a business card used today, because at first, they were expensive to make. By the 1860s, cheaper cards were available.

Postmen were referred to as “robins” because they wore red coats as part of their uniforms. It led to the bird becoming a festive symbol.

By the 1880s, Victorian artists showed the robin delivering Christmas cards to peoples’ houses instead of a postman – and the tradition has stuck. The British love to give feathered and four-legged creatures anthropomorphic qualities. See the image below.


A modern Christmas card in Victorian style, with the robin delivering the Christmas card to a recipient. This looks rather cute, don’t you think? I would like to see the robin at my door! Or on my local post box!

Until the mid-twentieth century, this bird also acquired the nickname Redbreast. The description ‘redbreast’ first appeared in the fifteenth century and was used until the middle of the twentieth century. In 1952, the British Ornithologist’s Union showed the species official name as ‘redbreast’. The Victorians no doubt helped with this by giving the bird human qualities of delivery. It would have seemed natural to give the bird a name Robin redbreast. There is a pleasing alliteration that would have appealed to children of the time.

Moss, in his book points out that the bird’s breast is actually orange, rather than red, and suggests that it was called redbreast because the actual fruit orange only appeared in the Middle Ages. It is referenced in the nursery rhyme,

“Oranges and lemons,
Say the bells of Saint Clements.”

The rhyme heralds the excitement of the bells of an exciting and tasty new fruit to arrive on Britain’s shores at that time. 
The colour orange was first used in 1557, over a hundred years after the word ‘redbreast’ was used to describe the robin. There was no colour called orange in the Middle Ages and it only became an accepted shade one hundred years after the fruit orange was imported into Britain.

The robin has since found its way onto clothing and Christmas decorations, solidifying it as a Christian icon in the UK and elsewhere.

The name, ‘robin’, if not the actual species, proliferated round the world because of sailors and explorers, who, landing in other parts of the world and having no ornithological expertise at all, called all kinds of small colourful birds with red, pink or yellow breasts robins.

The name stuck, however, which is why there are Siberian blue robins, Indonesian cloud-forest robins, Polynesian robins and the American robins, which are not robins at all!

The robin has made its presence in all art forms. Apart from the visual, the paintings, drawings, decorations and embroidery kits, on which it is displayed, the robin has found its place in orchestral, ensemble and popular music and across traditional and pop dance.

French composer Olivier Messiaen, a passionate ornithologist, in addition to being a genius as a musician, loved the robin and his music reflects this, featuring the European robin in his small bird sketches, (Petites Equisses d’Oiseaux. There is a movement titled Le Rouge-Gorge, (The Robin).

His large, orchestral work Des Canyons aux Etoilles has a movement titled Le Cossyphe d’Heuglin, The White-Browed Robin-Chat, (an African Robin).

Here is Matthew Schellhorn live, 29th January 2021 playing Robin, by Messiaen. While this is playing, you will see drawings by talented children and youths of the robin. These illustrations are fitting to be shown while the music is playing of the man who regarded birds as “the greatest musicians upon the planet.” Link: Robin

In popular music, the “American robin” that inspired the Al Jolson hit When the Red, Red, Robin Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin’ Along, is actually a THRUSH. (Remember our sailors and explorers?) 
According to Moss, it is “lumbering and bulky”, not like our robin at all. Link: Red Red Robin

This thrush is also the bird referred to in the hit Rockin’ Robin, made popular in 1972 by Michael Jackson and the Jackson Five. Remember anyone? Link: Rockin Robin

Here, you see the robin represented kinaesthetically with dance. They have movements called ‘tweets’ with jive steps, bouncy motions and running in circles with high knees to create a bird-like movement.

For robin movements, choreographers create quick, sharp, head movements, (rocking the head and listening for prey), hopping and sudden stops, pausing and perching movements alternated by moments of stillness followed by spurts of energy.

A more traditional robin dance is where the men and women dance in a counterclockwise circle. The movements are inspired by the running and hopping of the robin. Link: Iroquois Robin Dance

In literature, the writer Anthony Trollope, himself a post office employee has characters in his novel 'Framley Parsonage', who refer to the postman by his nickname.

This postman says, “Oh, but it is mortal wet,” as he hands the vicar the post and newspaper.
Jemima the cook responds with the phrase, “Come in, Robin Postman, and warm yourself awhile.”

Other writers who use the robin in their repertoire include Enid Blyton, Shakespeare, Robert Burns, Robert Herrick, Chaucer, Shakespeare and Frances Hodgson Burnett.

The British, ardent bird lovers in general, do have a soft spot for the robin.

In 2015, the robin topped the polls for Britain’s favourite bird, while in 1960 it was crowned Britain’s national bird.

These lines, from 'Robin Redbreast', by W H Davies, (1908) sum up our national affection for it.

Robin on a leafless bough,
Lord in heaven, how he sings!
Now cold winter’s cruel wind
Makes playmates of withered things.

Robins are aware of our feelings and, perhaps unbelievably, there is a relationship between the robin and us. They know we leave out food for them in cold winter months, when the ground becomes too cold and hard for them to find food and makes them vulnerable to starvation and death. Even woodland birds know to visit the British garden.

The custom of the British being generous towards feeding birds began over one thousand, five hundred years ago as did our love for the robin.

There is the story of a youth, (Saint Serf), taming a robin by giving it food but his classmates killed it out of jealousy. Miraculously, his friend Kentigen, (later St Mungo) brought the robin back to life.

Feeding birds declined through the centuries but was revived in the Victorian era when they extended their charity to all God’s creatures, with the exception of workhouse residents.

In 1890-91 the writer W H Hudson noted working men gathering along the side of the River Thames during their lunch break to give scraps of food to starving birds, which led to the custom of regularly feeding our birds in our gardens.

The result is that fourteen million households leave food out for garden birds and there are more than six million breeding pairs of robins in this country owing to our generosity to this breed of bird. This is surely a great achievement.

So when you put out food in bird feeders, remember to include sunflower hearts and corn grains for our robins to keep the population high as these give them energy.

In the next few days, listen out for the sweet song of the robin and Happy Christmas to you all.

Anne G. Dilley

*This image is on a card to raise money for the Leprosy Mission, see THELEPROSYMISSION.COM

Bibliography:

The Robin, a Biography by Stephen Moss

postalmuseum.org/blog/a-history-of-christmas-cards

https://poetrynook.com

https://www.bostonglobe.com

https://www.youtube.com

Thursday, 18 December 2025

Robins

Robins (Erithacus rubecula, European Robin) are small birds with a distinctive red breast and are a common sight throughout Britain and indeed, throughout Europe apart from bits of the Mediterranean coast and northern Scandinavia. These little birds can also be found in parts of North Africa and out into Turkey, Iran and central Russia. In Britain, it is found in parks, woodland and gardens and is quite a tame bird which has been known to eat food from people’s hands. In Europe, however, the robin is much more cautious as they are shot in their thousands for sport and food though quite why anyone would want to kill and eat a such a charming bird is beyond me but there you go.

Image of a robin (Erithacus rubecula) 
How the robin came to have a red breast is the topic of much folklore and mythology in many different countries and has been associated with good luck, fire, happiness, rebirth and even messages from departed loved ones. Indeed, it is equated with so much symbolism and hope which may be a reason for it being such a loved bird.

In Celtic mythology, two kings constantly battle for power or control over the seasons of the year. The dark Holly King and his twin, the Light Oak King try to dominate each other at the Winter and Summer Solstices through the beginning and end of the seasons. The Holly King takes the form of a Wren and the Light Oak the form of a Robin. The Holly King (Wren) rules from Midsummer to the Winter Solstice and the Light Oak (Robin) rules from the Winter Solstice to the Midsummer Solstice. The wren brings darkness and reflection and the robin brings light, earth fertility and growth showing the robin and wren epitomising the changing seasons of the year.

Image of Celtic Summer Light Oak King (Robin) and the Winter Dark Holly King (Wren)
In European mythology, the robin appears to be a sacred and protected bird and if anyone kills one it was supposed to bring bad luck. In Norse mythology, the robin was sacred to and protected by Thor, god of lightning and anyone found hurting the bird was in serious trouble. In German mythology it was believed the presence of a robin stopped lightning from striking. In medieval times the wassailing ceremonies to welcome the new year saw gifts of food being left out for robins who were seen as good spirits hopefully bringing luck for the following year.

Robins have come to be seen as messengers from the spirit world. There is a saying ‘robins appear when loved ones are near’ and a robin may be seen nearby ready to escort the deceased from this world to the next. Robins can be seen on the day of the funeral and will appear later to remind the bereaved that everything is going to be fine and that the departed loved one in the spirit world is at peace. The appearance of the robin lets people know that those left behind are not alone. Consequently, the little bird has become a symbol of good news and hope for the future.

Image of the robin as a messenger from the spirit world
Today, robins are synonymous with Christmas. This may be due to the robin being associated with Christianity and Jesus in particular. In Christianity, it is believed that a robin fanned the flames of a fire with its wings to keep Baby Jesus from overheating after he had just been born. However, a sudden gust of fire scorched the then brown bird’s breast turning it red and the new red breast was passed on to every robin generation since.

The robin has also become associated with Christmas thanks to the penny post created by Rowland Hill in 1840 and this led to the invention of the Christmas card in 1843. The postmen who delivered the mail wore red tunics and were called ‘Robins’ so Christmas cards began to have the small bird illustrated on them as well.

Image of the robin at Christmas/wintertime
The robin is a bird steeped in mythology, religion, growth and freedom. It is revered in many parts of the world and is a bird protected by friends in high places so do not hurt these birds as it may be bad luck if that happens. This small bird is an emissary from the spirit world delivering messages of peace to the loved ones of those who have departed. At Christmas the robin adorns Christmas cards and decorations symbolising peace and love during the cold winter season. All in all, the robin is a little bird with a big story to tell.

Robins

At Christmas time in the dark and
cold, the Robin red breast
shines hope, love, peace

It heralds a budding new season
bringing fertility, growth, plenty
in a warm summer land

In legend he wards off lightning,
storms, protecting loved ones
from harm and ill-luck

And took a thorn from the
crown to ease the pain of
Jesus’ crucified suffering

Or sits on a branch to let
you know the spirits of those
departed are nearby

It greets the dawn with the
sweetest of songs to welcome
the newborn day

The robin does all this and
more and tells us to look to
the future, learn, love, explore.


Thanks for reading and please leave a comment as they are much appreciated.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Wednesday, 17 December 2025

Robins

Mark Robins scored one of the more iconic goals in his career when he was playing for Manchester United in an away game against Nottingham Forest on the 7th January 1990 in an FA Cup third round tie. It was widely speculated that under-pressure United manager Alex Ferguson would have been sacked had United lost as they were 15th in the league and had been eliminated from the League Cup. Instead, Robins scored the winning goal. Ferguson kept his job and go on to achieve success at the club over the next 23 years. Which is more than enough about Manchester United.


But what about the name Robins? When I was thinking about it I wondered why any family would be named after the plural of a small bird. So, I had a look.

The surname Robins is a name of ancient Anglo-Saxon origin. It is derived from the baptismal name Robin, which was a diminutive of the personal name Robert, and refers to ‘a son of Robin or Robert’. Variations of this name include: Robins, Robyns, Robbins, Robbings, Robbens, Robens and many more.

Surnames weren’t widely used until after the Norman Conquest in 1066. As the country’s population grew and to allow the new King William I to extract the relevant taxation, it became necessary to distinguish between people and so names began to include descriptions of the person, such as Thomas son of John, Peter the Baker, Richard the Whitehead, Mary Webster, etc.

These descriptions would grow to form the surnames we recognise today although they could change over time as a person changed his job. For example, John Blacksmith might become John Farrier as his trade developed. Today there are perhaps as many as 45,000 different English surnames.

That was about as far as I wanted to go on surnames as I had begun then to wonder about the small bird and what was the collective name for them. 


Well, the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) did a survey in 2011 which found the following: the top three suggestions received were Round, Breast and Blush with Rabble, Bobbin, Red, Squabble, Rash, Hood, Riot and Reliance making up the rest.

I had no idea that there is an annual awareness day for robins. National Robin Day is on the 21st December, created by the charity Songbird Survival in 2016 as a way to raise awareness of not only robins but also all small garden birds who may struggle to survive the cold winter months.

I suspect that this date does not have any relevance to the invention of the Christmas card in 1843. Victorian postmen already wore bright red uniforms and had gained the nickname ‘Robins’. Many Victorian illustrators started to depict robins delivering Christmas cards in their beaks.


Royal Mail vans and post boxes are still painted red due to the original Victorian branding.

Robin Redbreast

Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, —
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.

Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! my Robin,
For pinching times are near.

The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheatstack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, —
Alas! in Winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.

                                       William Allingham

The poem was first published in his collection of poetry, "Day and Night Songs" in 1855.

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.

Tuesday, 26 November 2019

Tanka - Just A Few




I'm away at the moment, yes, again. I know I've only just returned home long enough to do the laundry and re-pack the case, but here I am, in the wonderful Dumfries & Galloway countryside, comfortable in a hidden-away lodge that I've already written so much about.

This week's theme being Tanka - five line poem based on a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable, I've had a try.

Not only have I managed to write a few Tankas, I've found a wifi connection. One of the attractions about being here was the seclusion, no signal, etc., but hey ho, things move with the times and we don't have to use what we don't want. Anyway, to my own advantage today, so here goes. They are written randomly.

Lonely roads so dark,
Driving back from Kilwinning.
Two hour journey
On the A seven-one-three
And it's creepy and scary.

List'ning to John Lodge
On his live 'B Yond' cd
Some old tunes remixed
And some new ones blended in,
Salute the Moody Blues man.

Watching the robins
Bossing round the bird feeders.
Claiming ownership,
Puffing out a proud red breast
Homing in on the fat balls.

A drive to the hills
Then all stops for 'Popmaster'
Wherever we are.
Some questions are too modern
And correct answers are few.


Thanks for reading, Pam x

Saturday, 11 May 2019

Down Among The Flowerpots

Flowerpots! Not the most prepossessing of topics, I'll grant you, but let's see where we can go with this one. I've always preferred proper terracotta (literally baked earth) pots to the shiny plastic variety, even before the war on plastics was declared. Anybody with a garden almost certainly has a stack of earthenware flowerpots somewhere, either in a potting shed (if the garden stretches to such a luxury) or stowed neatly in a secluded corner waiting to be recycled into action.

I once knew a robin to build its nest in one such flowerpot. Said pot was lying on its side over-wintering with a collection of pots of varying sizes in a sheltered spot at the bottom of my garden. In deference to the robin and its nest, all those pots remained undisturbed well into early summer.

Fearless Friend
That robin was seemingly fearless. I hesitate to use the word tame (as garden birds are wild creatures), but he often searched me out while I was gardening, would happily sit on the handle of my spade while it was stuck in the ground and I teased out small earthworms  for him. I somehow persuaded the cat (who would usually accompany me on these gardening jaunts) to just lie quietly and watch the robin unmolested. To her credit, she never showed any sign of wanting to attack him and he always appeared unfazed by her presence, as though some unspoken truce had been sealed between us all. On occasions when he felt particularly bold (or maybe just exceedingly hungry) he would perch lightly on my outstretched hand to take whatever disinterred grub lay wriggling there. I felt extraordinarily privileged.

Of course for a child of the Sixties, no blog about flowerpots would be complete without giving an honourable mention to Bill and Ben - the flowerpot men - and little weed. They were a staple of BBC TV's Watch With Mother on weekday afternoons.

Flowerpot Men & Blissful Weed
Although I didn't have one - TV that is, I must have watched occasionally at a cousin's house - I was as captivated watching creatures made out of flowerpots and who lived in flowerpots boldly pottering where no one had pottered before as any pre-school tot of the last two decades has been by the doings of the teletubbies. (Who remembers Slowcoach the tortoise?)

My predilection for the antics of Bill and Ben and little Weed was resumed briefly in my later teenage years when we watched with dilated pupils and a knowing sense of irony. That's a whole other story (and one you're not going to get here) but it provides a tenuous connection to this week's poem (which, if I'd finished it in time, might have ended up gracing a music-themed blog.)

Blackpool hosts the Rebellion Festival over a long week-end every summer, usually at the beginning of August. It's been going since 1996 and has become the world's premier punkfest, filling the town (and the Winter Gardens) with thousands of punks from all over the world. I've never been to any of the gigs - though Flipper are over from the States this year and that's very tempting - but the influx of so many aficionados is a wonderful and energising spectacle.

My friend the illustrious Dr Higgins has some involvement in helping to make Rebellion happen, as well as being a musician of no mean punkiness himself. His latest album 'Dream Consumer Dream!' credited to Higgins And The Magic Of The Marketplace consists of eleven spiky musical polemics, some aimed sharply at the fat, complacent midriff of Tory Anglia, others casting a nostalgic eye back over times gone by, all of them fair comment on the Human Condition vintage 2018. The LP (pressed on 180g translucent yellow vinyl) comes with an A2 poster/lyric sheet and while the words sure ain't poetry, that's not what is important here. The sentiment and the sound are key and both of those are mighty fine, launching 'Dream Consumer Dream!' into my top ten albums of the year alongside the likes of The Coral, Decemberists, Sarah Gillespie, Alfa 9 and White Denim (illustrious company, to be sure). Andy Higgins plays all guitars (lead, rhythm, bass) and sings while Andy Flynn drums and Joanna Byrne provides backing vocals. It's powerful, it's punchy and it rocks with attitude. My favourite cuts are 'Emily Goes To Public School', 'Remember Me' and 'Celebrity Is Dead'. All in all, an excellent recording deserving of an audience - get to hear it if you can.

It's a while since I myself picked up a guitar in anger. Poetry is more my bag nowadays. This, then, is an affectionate poetical reflection on the Blackpool Rebellion extravaganza from one who was there in London when punk was all kicking off over forty years ago. The Clash were my favourites, I saw them the most often. The Damned were pretty good too, as were The Ruts. The Sex Pistols may have become the most newsworthy but they were more manufactured than most in my opinion. As for the US scene, I've always had a soft spot for the afore-mentioned Flipper and the Dead Kennedys. By the way, the poem owes its title in part to San Francisco rockers The Tubes. 1-2-3-4...

White Punks On Weed
There's a rebel yell
rolling down the tramline,
a rainbow pageant of defiance
taking the town by storm;
not gay pride this week-end
but Blackpool's annual punk fest,
non-conformance the norm,
a convention of the unconventional.

There's a sweet smell of weed
on the sea breeze
ensuring more beatitude than attitude
as the last of the mohicans
in proud defiance of the years
pogo with collective verve
to three-chord wonders in performance
at the Winter Gardens, ornate home
of the original holiday in the sun.

They're a curious breed,
these doctors, lawyers, postal workers,
draughtsmen, civil servants, teachers,
milkmaids, truckers and lay preachers
all geared up in safety pins and bondage trousers,
sprayed DMs, slashed vests and dayglo Ts,
for three days of anarchy
in the UK's premier seaside resort
but you've got to hand it to them.

There's a sense of 'no future'
debunked by the enduring spirit of punk
an all's well that ends swell -
for witness the damned generation now,
this once ripped and torn
Radio Blank bin-bag nation
who had no particular place to go,
happily reborn in tribal glory
gravitating in their thousands
to Blackpool's golden mile.
That's Rebellion week-end for you,
an annual pilgrimage for many
and one hell of a story to tell.

Thanks for reading, S ;-)