Robins are interesting

This one was extremely interested in the contents of my wormery while I did some gardening this afternoon.

Centuries ago, when wild boar roamed our forests, they would be accompanied by a familiar little red-breasted figure. As the boar grubbed and rooted up the soil, the Robin would eat up the grubs that were uprooted. Wild boar were exterminated in Britain a very long time ago but luckily for their companions, gardeners are still going strong and providing freshly dug soil for the Robin to examine. Hence their reputation as the gardeners friend.

There is something of a folklore about Robins being associated with the dead. A Robin entering a house is a sure sign of death and many people have tales to confirm this. Apparently in the days before TE Lawrences death, a Robin had begun to tap at his window. A Welsh friend told me that there is a tradtion in South East Wales of birds being messengers from the dead and that Robins are the souls of people who have died in combat. It is seriously bad luck to kill one.

If you are walking through a streetlit area at night and hear a bird singing, it will be a Robin.

The reason the Robin has a red breast is because about 2000 years ago, when Jesus was dying on the cross, a Robin (then just brown in colour) flew up and tried to peck the nails out of His hands and feet. The bird was unsuccessful but the blood stains his descendants chests to this day, as a reminder of his bold efforts. My headteacher told us this at primary school so it must be true.