The Robin vs Me

Nature is still nature, whatever else is happening in our world.  

I like robins.  I love their early morning musical concerts, which they hold in the trees they must spend their nights in.  Before sunrise, they somehow know the sun is coming back, and sing to greet it.

They have beautiful blue eggs.

I am talking here, of course, about American robins, not the robins of Europe.  But I digress.


I own a robin.  Or, more accurately, a robin owns me.  Or, to be exact, there is a robin family  who thinks they own my back yard.  They might be right.

Last year, robins built a nest in the roof of my covered patio and raised a family.  Each time I tried to use the back yard, said robin would fly to a fence post or a nearby tree and stare at me.  Soft hearted me, I would retreat back into the house.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed this structure on my patio beam. This nest has a long "tail" of nesting materials hanging out of the next.  It's a bit blurry because I don't want to scare the bird into abandoning the nest if I get too close.

Now, every time I entered my front yard, the robin flies out of the nest, heads to a fence post (above) or tree, and stares at me.  "Get out of here, human" it glares. 

 I should be used to this treatment by now.  For years, finches have taken over my front porch light.  This past winter, a bird even used the nest (I never did take it down this fall) in the winter, building an addition onto it.

But I really do like to sit and read (or use my computer) in my back yard.

At least, the robin doesn't try to attack me.

I would feel better about it if the robin chipped (chirped?) in for my real estate and school taxes.

My yard is small.  Still it's worth staying away for a couple of weeks or more, so the robin can raise a new generation that will sit in trees and sing for me in the sunrise.  But now, I really want to use that yard.

We'll see how this turns out.

Do you have similar problems?