All fluffed up with nowhere to go.
Counted more than thirty Robins in the Mountain Ash tree. They pick a few berries and sit fluffing their feathers up until they are twice their size. Maybe the fluffing provides better insulation against the cold.
I relate Robins to late March, early April when the snow is in patches and the grass has a tinge of green. To see, more than a few stragglers, here in January seems odd.
Perhaps what’s odd is the absence of Waxwings this year. They usually arrive in December and January and strip the berries in record time.
I am yet to see a Waxwing this year, neither sober or drunk after gorging themselves on the fermented frozen berries.
Instead the Robins have arrived early. Picking a few berries, careful not to make pigs of themselves. Dropping a few, for the deer. Then fluffing themselves up for night.
Spring’s still a ways away.