A guy in my position probably should not be bragging about getting an old girlfriend back. What will people say, after all?
But, what the heck? I’m so pleased with my current situation that I don’t care who knows. In fact, I’m willing to share the story, the whole story, without any reservations.
It all began early last summer. Well, “all” is not quite a fair assessment; let’s revise that so you understand that this is just part of the larger picture and what has gone on between me and her, and a couple of close friends in the last year, is just part of the bigger picture.
I want to be perfectly clear here, too. I did not initiate this particular relationship; it just sort of “began” about this time a year ago. It was pretty intense for several weeks and then just as quickly as it had begun, she left me. Just overnight. One day she was here, the next day she was gone, without so much as even a “goodbye.”
Then, very unexpectedly, and as suddenly as she had come into my life the first time, there she was, back. She rearranged her quarters a little and settled in again, just like nothing had even happened.
But soon enough, it was the same story. Déjà vu, all over again. After apparently being committed for the long haul, she up and left me again, high and dry, without a word.
I was, of course, upset, but I guess I had expected it all along. That’s the way those females are. And since I had already been burned once, I was not really too shocked the second time around.
Winter came and I really figured she was gone for good this time. But, sentimental me, I didn’t throw her stuff out. I had a good bit of sentimental attachment and just couldn’t bear to upset the set up. And, besides, I still held out a slight — ever so slight — hope that our paths would perhaps cross again. I had been good to her, as good as I knew how to be, and we got as close as she would let me.
I have some pictures on my cell phone that I look at every once in a while, just for old time’s sake. I had taken them to send to an old friend back in Helena, but never could figure out how to get that done. (I later discovered that the reason I was unable to transmit photos like the kids do, was that I didn’t have that service included in my contract. Still don’t, but that’s another story.)
Well, about 10 days ago, it happened. I had seen her and a bunch of her running mates sneaking around the neighborhood, and then one afternoon, here she came. She just moved right back in and began to spruce up her digs again. Flitting around just like she had last year, coming and going as she pleased, but obviously interested in calling my place home again.
At least the downspout beneath the overhang by the front porch.
If you have not figured out about my girl yet, she’s a turdus migratorius. A t.m. migratorius, or perhaps a t.m. nigridius, to be more specific. That’s an American Robin to most folks. Just a robin to me.
I really have no confirmation that the old gal fixing up the habitat is the same one who hatched two broods of three chicks apiece last summer. According to the basic research I’ve done, that’s par for the course, and after feeding the little guys a steady diet of worms for about 14 days, they’re up on the edge of the nest, and then gone. And so is the old gal, back to stalking worms and grubs for herself before setting in to do her reproduction routine again.
The juveniles are able to fly after another 14 days, following the adults around begging for food in the meantime.
The female builds the nest alone, from first coarse and then softer grass and feathers, but when the time comes, both male and female feed the chicks.
Serious birders estimate there are as many as 320 million robins hopping around their favorite haunts throughout the United States, despite the fact that no more than one in four young robins survive their first year. Average lifespan is two years; the longest recorded in the wild is 14 years. Once hunted for its meat, the bird is now protected.
When you see a robin scouring a yard for food, cocking its head, first to one side and then the other, it is not listening for whatever sound worms might make. Rather, it is watching very closely — it feeds by sight rather than sound.
Revered as the harbinger of spring, the robin is the state bird of Connecticut, Michigan and Wisconsin.
Comic-book superhero Robin, Batman’s sidekick, is so named because he was supposedly born on the first day of spring. His red shirt suggests the bird’s signature red breast.
Maryville, Mo. —
