Robin rose up early, At the break of day;
He flew to Jenny Wren’s house,
To sing a roundelay.
He flew to Jenny Wren’s house,
To sing a roundelay.
At 4:33 this morning I was awakened by the happy chirps of a little robin. Of all the birds, the English robin is my favorite! The house I first lived in when I moved to London had a very small elfish sized garden in the back and in that garden lived a little robin, or at least one that liked to visit us everyday.
He was very talkative and very opinionated. If there was no food out you would hear a peck-peck-pecking on the french doors and turning from the table you would spy him, standing proudly with his head cocked to the side with a little expression of, "Have you forgotten something? Like my food?"
On a few occasions he would fly in through the open kitchen window and hop about. A game would often ensue of you telling him you were going to open the doors for him to fly out, he would either follow you and go back outside or just stand on the kitchen table looking at you as if to say, "I will go when I am ready!"
So with the cheerful chirping of Mr. Robin this morning, I know Spring is coming, although snow is predicted for Wednesday so Jack Frost might have a little bit of Winter left in him yet!
(Poem excerpt from The Wedding of Robin Redbreast & Jenny Wren, Image by: Isabelle Brent)
