I don’t know about you, but this old school deep freeze has hardened me off – yesterday’s 34 degrees felt like t-shirt weather. But it looks like we’ll be back dressing like Yukon fur trappers come the weekend. With all this snow and the relentless subfreezing temps, that first robin of spring sure feels far away. But is it?
Maybe, but the many robins of winter are here now. Some of our robins may never leave, and others come down from Canada to spend the winter here. Some winters we may have hundreds of thousands of robins on the Cape – the state all-time high count came just a couple of winters ago during the Mid-Cape Christmas Bird Count when over 115 thousand robins were counted at a single roost in West Barnstable. Now that is some PhD level bird counting. I suspect an umbrella might come in handy when counting that many birds overhead.
I don’t have the sense this has been as robiny as the winter of 2023, but I’ve seen plenty of flocks around, with some counts in the 500-1500 range. But what are they doing here now? Our lawns and the worms within are locked away under a foot of snow. But these are winter robins, and they don’t need your lawn – they need your fruit-laden landscape trees and shrubs. Winter robins are flocking, fruit eating birds, and they move around the landscape in great marauding hordes looking for concentrations of winter persistent fruits like those of our native cedars and hollies, as well as crabapples, and of course the various invasives like privet, multiflora rose, and bittersweet. Robins are co-conspirators in the spread of these nasty invasives and probably planted a lot of these shrubs and vines they feast on.
On Monday morning, after dropping off the kids, I noticed a big bunch of robins in the neighborhood across the street from the school. Dozens were on the ground under a pair of big red cedars eating the fruit that had fallen on the snow, while dozens more feasted on the fruit still on the tree. As I cased the neighborhood, it became clear the ones working that cedar were just a fraction of the bigger flock – hundreds were working fruiting trees in most every yard on the street – the garrulous flocks were plucking berries from spindly privets next to garages, big ornamental hollies, pricky barberry bushes, and oriental bittersweet vines. I continued seeing robins all over the center of Harwich on the way home.
Some robins break away from the big winter flocks to go it alone, and some of those lone-wolf birds become birdfeeder bullies – I’ve seen it in my own yard. I got a call just the other day from someone wanted me to help them deal with their bully robin. I am not making this up – the robin is not letting any other birds eat at any of this woman’s feeders. I’ve seen robins acting like this, but this is an extreme example. I’m curious what she is hoping I will do –put out a hit on that robin? Maybe tip off a local Cooper’s Hawk?
As for you, I suggest you keep an eye out for the marauding robin hordes in your neighborhood or on your next drive around town. Just don’t call me to help you with your bully robin, or ask me to stop those pesky flocking robins from eating all your pretty red berries that look so nice against the snow - I’m not going to put out a hit on any robins. But, you know, I suppose if the price is right, we can talk.
