It’s a robin. All winter, it’s been perched in the flowering crab apple tree (I think that’s what it is) in the backyard.
I assume it’s been munching the berries left over from last season. But I don’t understand why this particular bird has chosen to winter in Connecticut while its brothers and sisters took wing for warmer climes. What could it be thinking? Does it think?
It seems quite content to spend day after day, all by itself, on one branch or another of that tree. If disturbed by another living creature, it simply flies to a tree (the same tree, time after time) in the nearby woods until it decides it is safe to return.
I’m fascinated by this bird, because a robin is, after all, a harbinger of spring. But in the dead of winter? I thought perhaps this bird was a rebel among robins.
And then, I discovered the truth about robins.