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Theresa's robins...
One warm winter around the year 2000, a robin found itself in Brampton, Ontario quite early in March. With its red chest, grey-black wings, black feathered head, and bright yellow beak, this robin was easily noticed exploring the backyard and neighbourhood, looking for traditional food, scouting the area, singing all the while. This early bird might not get the worm for few days, but it would have its choice of nesting locations.
The ground was bare and relatively dry. The temperature was moderate, certainly above freezing during the daytime. Buds on the trees seemed to be greening, getting ready to open. Sap dripped from pruned branches of a maple tree. It was comfortable to be outside in the sunshine.
Then, overnight, a snowstorm dropped about ten inches of heavy damp snow. Branches and overhead wires sagged under the weight. Footsteps in the snow compressed it into thick slush. Clearing it meant scooping half a shovelful at a time. The air had cooled but was unlike February, was not biting and dry. The sky remained overcast.
The robin seemed to have made a bad mistake by coming north early. There were not many dry perches now. Nesting material and any possible food was completely covered, not much to sing about.
Theresa saw all of this and wanted to help. The robin was certainly her favourite bird, pleasing to the eye, industrious and friendly. Theresa liked the tufted cardinals a great deal, too, that would come for the black sunflower seeds and peanuts in the feeder – but these are flighty birds that take off at the slightest sound or movement. All the smaller sparrows and finches and chickadees that fed on the on the nutty tidbits and nyjer food were not so distinguishable. Bluejays, while large and colourful, can be sneaky and have a rasping voice. Grackles and starlings were hateful and annoying and warranted chasing when they gathered. Other appreciated avians in the yard – like redwing blackbirds or flickers - were a far less common sight. The most hated – easily the mourning dove.
Robins don’t eat nuts and seeds, they eat bugs and worms and berries, unavailable now with all this snow. And Theresa wanted to help this robin. Grapes in a colander near the back door gave her an idea and a small handful of them were set atop the snow on the patio table. It must have been the berry shape that drew the attention of the robin for they were soon discovered and one by one they disappeared.
Many more grapes were set out in the coming days and this robin returned regularly to consume them. At first, the robin would take them away to eat, but as the robin became familiar, it was quite common for the robin to fly in and stay. Bits of the grapes would be pecked off and swallowed – a bit of a comical trick for the robin as the grapes would roll around on the patio until they were broken open enough to stay still. The best technique seemed to be biting onto a chunk then shaking the grape about or banging it on the ground until the bitten chunk would break off. The last third would often go down in a gulp. It must have been hard work getting through the skin initially, for once a grape was started upon, it was almost always thoroughly eaten.
As more robins came north, the local ones learned quickly from the first about this source of food. There were three adults eating grapes in the spring of the first year (and as many as six local adults in subsequent years). Squirrels were interested pests that needed to be chased away, and the grackles who had learned from watching the robins would peck at the grapes for a short time in May before heading off for parts unknown. Aside from these two animals, the robins seem to have the grapes all to themselves all day.
After the novelty of feeding the robins wore off came the obligation. Grapes would have to be set out from dawn until dusk, up to a pound a day in peak season. The robins would let it be known that there were no grapes set out by perching on the patio chairs and calling out while looking at the windows. If they were ignored, the boldest would come onto the window ledge and look in. If you were in the yard, they would fly in front of you and land. If you were away, they greeted you upon your return.
It was quite common to see robins fly in or hop in or run in when the back door opened. One could sit quietly in a chair on the patio and set a grape inches from the feet and the most trusting robins would run up, then back off, then come closer, and turn away, then come in closer still – grabbing the grape with its beak then running down the patio walkway or flying a short distance to enjoy its meal.
The first brood of spring would make their appearance in late May. Speckled chests and underdeveloped features and body movements, these young would hang about in the yard while the adults would come and feed on the grapes, breaking off large portable chunks then flying off to where the babies were to feed them. Eventually, the babies would fly in to where the grapes were, but they would not figure out how to eat them for many days yet, and would turn their open mouths to their parents instead.
Competition for the endless supply of grapes was unnecessary, but that did not stop some robins from chasing other adults away, especially when there were young to feed. The swoop-and-scoop and chase was a regular event.
June brings about the ripening of the serviceberries in the yard, and the robins start to lose some interest in the grapes in favour of them. The babies are all grown and all of the robins begin finding food elsewhere. This is usually a relief for the pocketbook and the provider. If you wanted to see a robin though, it seemed to take only minutes before any grapes thrown out the door drew their attention.
In a good year, the robins may have a second brood and the demand for grapes may rise again in mid-July. A couple may have two to four surviving young, depending on the weather, the food supply and predators. The robins seem to break off in late summer and spend much of the fall elsewhere, returning in November for a short while. After flying south for the winter, it seemed that the young and old alike return with an understanding that there will be grapes. These “trained” robins have been a deserved source of entertainment, pleasure and gratification for Theresa over the years.
In the summer of 2011 when cleaning the yard, I spotted some grassy strands and plant fibres up high on one of the eaves trough angles. I used a pole to remove the mess and placed it on the patio table for disposal. Five minutes later, the mess was back up on the eaves trough pretty much where it was and a noisy robin was flying about. I took it down again while the robin watched, and it was back up minutes later. I left it after that. In another day or so, there was a well-built nest and a mother atop it.
I learned through research that a mother will lay one egg a day up to a typical four egg limit. The eggs do not develop until the mother sits on them consistently to warm them, and it then takes twelve to fourteen days for eggs to hatch. There are three babies in this nest now, with thin necks strained upwards and yellow-beaked mouths opened to the sky. I imagine they are calling out “Grapes!”.
http://www.learner.org/jnorth/tm/robin/EggstraEggstra.html
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