THE BALLAD OF WHITE FEATHER AND BLACK EYE
I usually arrive at RSPB Old Moor’s Welcome Shed well ahead of opening time. That’s partly because I’m conscientious and like to do a ‘professional’ job, even as a volunteer, but also because there’s a daily ritual that I love to partake in - and it involves Britain’s National Bird (as officially declared on 15 December 1960 and further strengthened by a BBC vote in 2015).
The front of my shed has three doors; a large one opens upwards and two smaller ones at the bottom opening outwards. I enter from a door at the back and flip up the front top section. As soon as I do that, a Robin appears as if by magic, sometimes just standing on the lower ledge, sometimes fluttering around inside the wooden building, but always chirping. I know that I shouldn’t anthropomorphise creatures, but sometimes it’s fun, so… it almost seems as if the little Redbreast is indignantly shouting, “Feed me, human, It’s way past my chicks’ breakfast time”. So naturally I obey the tiny feathered fury and throw out some high quality bird mix (which is of course available to buy in the Old Moor shop). I place some on the shed frame too, just a couple of feet from where I stand. The visitors, especially the younger ones, are delighted to see the Robins rushing too and fro, sometimes eating the food, sometimes taking it away.And this is the point. They take much of it away to their young.
I’ve been watching these particular Robins for long enough now to recognise them as individuals and I’ve noticed patterns in their behaviour. At first it was just one bird with a white wing feather who kept taking food. Then a second bird with dark marks around the eyes joined in the fun. White Feather had got himself a lady friend! Now this isn’t ‘Avian Love Island’ so I’m not going to keep up this individualisation of White Feather and Black Eye any longer. You can if you want, I promise there’s no sad news (up to the time of writing). But suffice to say, from what I and the other Old Moor Welcome Shed staff have noticed, they’ve behaved in a manner which is completely typical for birds of their species. Breeding Robins are definitely creatures of habit.
They will sit on the eggs and incubate them for two to three weeks. Once hatched, the chicks will stay in the nest for another two weeks with both parents stuffing as much food into their eager little mouths as possible before fledging. The chicks will leave the nest and hop around the immediate area. Papa Robin will continue to feed them for another week or so, but (and this is where it gets a little surprising - to me at least. You might already be a Doctor of Robinology) his mate will return to the nest and lay a second clutch of chicks. Dad will feed as many of the chicks as he can find while they continue to gain more independence and at the same time supplement his ladylove’s diet while she’s incubating the second batch. At between four and seven eggs in each brood… and that’s why there are lots of Robins around each summer. But of course not all will survive. It can’t be much fun to be a mum or dad of the genus and species Erithacus rubecula. It’s just a hard slog trying to keep as many of your babies as possible alive. Predation, weather and simple poor parenting; all play their part in the death rate, and it’s a large one. Less than one in 5 of the baby birds in those eggs will grow up to have chicks of their own. It’s not as if they’ll have much chance to hone their parenting skills either. A healthy Robin will only live for two years. Given that they can’t breed until they’re second year then they will only have one or two chances to pass on their genes to a further generation. Their two year life cycle is pretty much grow up… raise babies… die of old age and general worn out-ness.
Like all songbirds, young Robins are at their greatest danger immediately after fledging. The young can fly enough to wobble unsteadily a short distance away from the nest but not well enough to avoid a predator. At this stage they are, quite literally, easy pickings and dispersal is paramount if the entire brood isn’t to be lost.
But our resident Shed Robins appear to be doing quite a good job. They’re still taking food into the surrounding foliage so it would seem that at least some of their youngsters have made it this far. As for the others; well they will have gone to help some other creatures, large or invisibly small, survive a little longer in their own personal day to day battle. Everything in nature has its place and none should be viewed as ‘better’ or ‘more deserving’ than any other.
But I do hope that White Feather and Black Eye manage to get at least two chicks to adulthood.
See my weekly RSPB Old Moor blog at "View From the Shed". I usually wear a big hat.