The observance of daylight savings time has had a profound effect on me this year. The rather unpleasant weather that we’ve had for much of September and October has kept me inside far too much for my liking, and now the reality of the passage of time is really catching up with me. There is a certain schizophrenia that seems to settle over the mind of a person living in the northern latitudes. The length of the days are constantly changing, you don’t really seem to know exactly what time it is and things just start to feel a bit off.
Then something happens that seems to push you “over the edge” a little. In my case, that something came in the form of a flock of American robins that flew over my house last week. The leaves are falling off the trees, winter is coming and then an iconic symbol of springtime shows up at the oddest time. What is going on here?
Well, what’s going on is I’m overreacting to being too busy with work. The simple fact is that robins, whether we think of them as springtime birds or not, are animals that have lives that are far more complex than we give then credit for. I’ve kept records of my nature observations for years, and the nature of those records has become increasingly detailed as the years have gone by.
As I flip through those pages for every month of every year of the past decade I find that robins have been a reliable, near-constant presence. Only once in a great while is the robin box unchecked and that often coincides with particularly snowy months during the winter when I didn’t go out as much.
To be certain there is a huge migratory wave of robins in both spring and fall. The entire country of Canada is home to robins in the summertime and huge numbers of robins pass through our area on their way to the northernmost limits of land in North America. Among my personal curios is a $2 bill from Canada that features a gorgeous portrait of an American robin on the back, in full color. This bird certainly made an impression on our neighbors to the north, and for Canadians the robin truly is a sign of spring.
But here in our area we live in a particularly interesting place for robins. We are at the northernmost limit of the robin’s winter range. Go a little fArther north to Brattleboro, VT., and you might see a robin during the winter months, but go to Montpelier and you’ll have to wait until springtime. Here in our area there are always a few robins that hang in there during the cold months, and if you were to travel south you’d find more and more of the birds. If you’re at all interested in seeing robins in the south of their range you’d have to go to Guatemala.
The secret to the success of wintertime robins in our area is the availability of berries. Bushes like winterberry, serviceberry, nannyberry and the various dogwoods and ornamental crabapples and cherries are important sources of food for robins once the ground freezes up. If you live in an area of open land, where old farm fields have been allowed to start reverting back into forests, then you may see robins on a regular basis.
The photo that I have selected for this week’s column is one that I took many years ago while on a spontaneous hike in the month of November. I was visiting a nature area in North Amherst, and I happened upon a robin that was feasting on winterberries that were growing on a bush that was probably nearing the end of its life. This bush was actually in the woods, which was a bit odd. I get the feeling that the bush was holding on as a forest of trees slowly filled in around it.
I know I say this a lot, but do yourself a favor and go out for a walk if you can. Today is a holiday, and if the weather is nice you should at least consider stepping outside and letting the sun shine upon your face. Leave your electronics inside and stretch your legs a little. Give your mind a chance to be quiet and if you find yourself in a quiet place keep your eyes and ears open for the sights or sounds of American robins. It is entirely possible that you will see or hear a flock of these “springtime” birds, but don’t worry, you’re not crazy. You just live in a special place.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 21 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service and Massachusetts State Parks, and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.