Posted in birds, new, robin redbreast by martalorenza on March 28, 2012

Yesterday little Robin II left for the mountains, too.

When robin redbreasts came back to Milan, there were scaffoldings in my garden and Robin, the robin redbreast of last year, didn’t stop here.

I think decorators make a garden a little less valuable, and so it is the shiest and thinnest robin who turned up here.

I don’t know why, a robin ends up to be the favorite, anyway. He isn’t either the most intelligent or the most affectionate, and yet I see that not only me, but all of us tend to like him best.

It may be because their being so lonely and coy reminds us of our condition of foreigners, or because of their incredible little red lamp, which they can scare everybody with, they think.

Eventually, Robin II gave me his grace and trust, too, and he got used to appear (robin redbreasts are really fast, they make no noise and can pass through branches without moving even a leaf, they are like hobbits in the woods) if I called him.

I never managed to take a picture of him, because the lens of my camera scared him. In the last few days, he used to sing in front of my window and when he does so, it means he misses the mountains.

Yesterday Robin II didn’t turn up; the loveliest birds of Milan have left. Are they used to meeting just outside the city to travel together?

But for the first time since last winter, yesterday Black didn’t eat all he asked me for and he flew away with a camula in his beak: this means the eggs have opened and he’s become dad again.

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farewell, little Robin

Posted in birds, Milan, new, robin redbreast by martalorenza on March 22, 2011

It was a really silent dawn this morning, without Robin, my robin readbreast friend (he came back to my garden on November 4th and sang every morning for almost 5 months, how wonderful!).

For the last two days he’d been singing at full volume, but didn’t come over to ask for pine nuts. Since February he sang all day long, at the beginning softly, his beak closed, from the oleander, then out loud from the beech tree. I missed you this morning, Robin, my little friend!

Jesus said God takes care of sparrows, which are sold for a penny, I really hope He will keep your journey towards the mountains safe from nets and eagles (where are you going? Dad says to a real wood to eat pine nuts from pine cones at last, rather than from plastic bags).

May you always find little spiders and fat worms when you hop among the bushes.

Today as I missed you and was thinking of you, not only did I give pine nuts to Black and peanuts to the tits, but also some bread to the pigeons. They couldn’t believe it! They worship me already!

Soon the oleander will bloom to make me forget how much better it is when colors can also fly and look out for me! But this sad silence makes it clearer how wrong this attack in Libya is. May the Lord have mercy on us and forgive us all.

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