
Robin’s Christmas
Robin gazed through a melted corner of the frosted glass, confused by the shimmering, twinkling white lights on the tree that had sprouted overnight within the house.
He ruffled his feathers, trying to trap a little of the warmth within his downy feathers. His tiny heart thrummed a rapid beat under his orangey-red waistcoat, a beacon of warmth on that dowdy grey winter’s day.
He cocked his head to one side, his beady black eye watching a tabby cat slink across the floor inside the house. The cat pounced onto the sill, licking his lips with a prickly pink tongue, before yawning, exposing a gaping maw filled with gleaming white teeth. Robin was grateful for the pane of glass between them, but gave a teasing tweet at the same time.
The thought of breakfast made Robin hungry, his tiny stomach emitting the faintest of gurgles. He turned his back on the cat and, with a cocky flick of his tawny brown tail, flew towards the bushes at the other end of the garden.
He foraged amongst the fallen leaves, but found no prize grubs there. He pecked around, the frozen ground unyielding to his foraging. Not much chance of pulling out a nice juicy worm this morning. Perhaps if he quenched his thirst, that would at least quell his hunger pangs a little. But the water was solid and he slid across the water’s surface in the bird bath.
As the chill seeped into his toes, he took flight once more, returning to the relative warmth of the windowsill, where he heard squeals and giggles from the little humans in the house. He put his head under his wing to warm his beak and, perhaps, snooze a while.
He heard the sound of a door opening and perked up. The human placed a couple of dishes on the doorstep before retreating back into the warmth. Robin fluttered over and twittered with glee. One dish contained some juicy, wriggling mealworms and the smoky aroma of bacon rinds, the second some warm water.
Robin wouldn’t go hungry that Christmas morning after all.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleI just love how well you’ve captured the Robin’s movements and characteristics. You paint such a vivid image that I can easily see it flitting to and fro in my minds eye!
Cheers babes. We have one that visits our garden regularly. Now the cats are penned, it follows your dad round the garden when he’s working out there; probably waiting for him to uncover the bugs!
What a sweet story, Carrie. I can just see you making sure all the wild things in your yard are taken care of in the winter when they can’t fend for themselves. It’s who you are. I’m afraid to ask this next question, though. Where does the average family find a bunch of juicy, wriggling mealworms in the course of an average day? I certainly don’t have any in my cupboards!
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleYou’d be surprised what you can get through the post Fuji! These days the birds in our garden get dried mealworms, but when we used to keep and breed tarantulas and leopard geckos, we used to order crickets, mealworms and waxworms in bulk from a company, that’s actually not far from where we live now, and got them delivered in the mail. Goodness knows what the postman thought when he heard whistling… Read more »
Hello, Carrie. Like Emily, I like how you describe Robin’s movements in your story, especially when Robin gave a teasing tweet to the cat. You really made me smile. Good job.