This spring I watched a robin in the bath, its beak full of dried grass – in a seeming dither about whether to drop it or not before bathing, multi-tasking, just a quick dip before getting on with the chores.
I have never seen a robin come into the courtyard. Sometimes they land on the tall fence (far out of Frances reach) and use it as a launch zone for zeroing-in on lawn worms or insects.
From trees around the house robins sing lovely melodies – frequent and welcome. I try never to say, “It’s just a robin,” – even though they are ubiquitous – like us – year-around residents and always about.