There’s an old saying that the sight of the first American Robin of the year means that Spring has arrived. Well, if that Robin has a worm in its mouth, maybe; if it’s singing a mating song, probably. But, if that Robin is digging for snow-buried fruit during a seven-degree morning, you might want to repress any impulse to go outside in your Birkenstocks.


Maine and most other states are hosts to some all-year Robins; we also get a few Canadian Robins that take winter vacations here. However, it seems that Robins are ignored by most of us until Spring, when they high-step and drill for food in the grass and sing loudly from trees. (Brooklin, Maine)