...And what will the robin do then, poor thing?

The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow
And what will the robin do then, poor thing?
He'll make himself a nest, in Jerry's caravan
And pour himself yet another gin, poor thing!

I had a feeling this bright eyed robin was leading me up the garden path, and how duped can you get. All the time I've seen him in the garden he's been keeping me away from his nest building in an old ceramic pot in my 1930s caravan that has a tiny open window hidden by a spiral willow.

Well I shall endeavour to keep him and his missus as undisturbed as possible till the eggs are laid, hatched, reared and their brood has flown the nest. Good luck the robins...