Robin Messybreast

I was on the way to the field to shoot bugs when this robin landed just in front of me and then flew up onto one of the greenhouse ventilation fans. It watched me fearlessly as I swapped lenses and then posed perfectly.

I was going to post the whole bird and call it Robin Rustybreast as its unkempt feathers matched the rust on the fan. Then I spotted the single feather on top of its head. :)

Like all in the UK, I love these birds. I've missed them while they have been hiding while they moult. I think this might be a juvenile in the process of getting its first red breast.

I Dreamt Of Robin

I opened the casement this morn at starlight, 
And, the moment I got out of bed, 
The daisies were quaking about in their white 
And the cowslip was nodding its head. 
The grass was all shivers, the stars were all bright, 
And Robin that should come at e'en-- 
I thought that I saw him, a ghost by moonlight, 
Like a stalking horse stand on the green. 

I went bed agen and did nothing but dream 
Of Robin and moonlight and flowers. 
He stood like a shadow transfixed by a stream, 
And I couldn't forget him for hours. 
I'd just dropt asleep when I dreamed Robin spoke, 
And the casement it gave such a shake, 
As if every pane in the window was broke; 
Such a patter the gravel did make. 

So I up in the morning before the cock crew 
And to strike me a light I sat down. 
I saw from the door all his track in the dew 
And, I guess, called 'Come in and sit down.' 
And one, sure enough, tramples up to the door, 
And who but young Robin his sen? 
And ere the old folks were half willing to stir 
We met, kissed, and parted agen.
John Clare