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Are Robins Symbols Of Dead Loved Ones?

One of my friends is a psychic, and this morning suggested he could do a reading for me as both my parents are dead. I was in the lounge at home, and jokingly raised my eyes to heaven and said “Mum, Dad, if you should happen to be speaking to Scott, bear in mind there are things he doesn’t need to know!” Seconds later there was a sound from the kitchen and when I went to look, a robin had flown in through the back door and was standing on the kitchen table... probably not a message, but unusual, nonetheless.
 
Yeah, they're cheeky wee things. Last week I saw a robin in the garden that was attacking the tree, really throwing itself at it. No idea why, I know they're incredibly aggressive birds, but nothing on the tree trunk was red, and it wasn't moving in a provocative way (!) so why did the little guy want to go on the attack? For about half an hour, too!
 
Yeah, they're cheeky wee things. Last week I saw a robin in the garden that was attacking the tree, really throwing itself at it. No idea why, I know they're incredibly aggressive birds, but nothing on the tree trunk was red, and it wasn't moving in a provocative way (!) so why did the little guy want to go on the attack? For about half an hour, too!
The tree was in his way. Get out of my way, tree!
 
Are
Yeah, they're cheeky wee things. Last week I saw a robin in the garden that was attacking the tree, really throwing itself at it. No idea why, I know they're incredibly aggressive birds, but nothing on the tree trunk was red, and it wasn't moving in a provocative way (!) so why did the little guy want to go on the attack? For about half an hour, too!
Are you sure it wasn't just swooping in to scoop up insects?
 
There's a letter in FT 398 about what the writer calls "The Mandela Effect": they thought male robins had the red breast, while female robins did not. But now he realises this is not true, and both have the red breast, it's the younger robins that are just brown all over. Did anyone else think this? Must admit, reading that made me wonder, I'm not very sure.
 
Just today we passed a funeral parlour which had a sign in the window amongst the display gravestones "robins appear when loved ones are near". My wife and I had never heard this before, and I opined that since robins are such bold birds, people might interpret one sitting on a gravestone as the spirit of whosever grave they had come to visit.
 
Just today we passed a funeral parlour which had a sign in the window amongst the display gravestones "robins appear when loved ones are near". My wife and I had never heard this before, and I opined that since robins are such bold birds, people might interpret one sitting on a gravestone as the spirit of whosever grave they had come to visit.

Like this?

robins appear.jpg
 
There's a letter in FT 398 about what the writer calls "The Mandela Effect": they thought male robins had the red breast, while female robins did not. But now he realises this is not true, and both have the red breast, it's the younger robins that are just brown all over. Did anyone else think this? Must admit, reading that made me wonder, I'm not very sure.

I can understand why people may assume that, as many male avian species are more colourful than their female counterparts, but don't most robins have more of an orange breast anyway? Must admit I always thought they all had red breasts until a few years ago. I was making a piece of glasswork featuring a robin and decided to check what type of red their breasts were. Looking online they appeared to be more of an orange so I did it orange. Not sure whether it depends on the type of Robin? Or perhaps it's just the way we perceive colours differently.

Either way I messed it up. Once it was complete I stood back and realised I had given the poor fellow a pot belly! How I didn't see it until I'd finished I don't know. Perhaps I'm not reliable observer of robins after all. :rollingw:
 
Just today we passed a funeral parlour which had a sign in the window amongst the display gravestones "robins appear when loved ones are near". My wife and I had never heard this before, and I opined that since robins are such bold birds, people might interpret one sitting on a gravestone as the spirit of whosever grave they had come to visit.

Similar to what Escargot has posted, I own this little decoration, it's quite a common saying:

20201003_214341.jpg

I don't particularly believe this but I bought it because I like the sentiment. I lost my Dad a number of years ago and I associate him with robins to some degree, as a robin often used to visit the garden and perch on his spade when he wasn't using it. I have a feeling I've read similar stories on this thread, so perhaps these type of occurances are more common that people realise? Plus robins are associated with Christmas, easily recognisable, people are generally fond of them and they seem quite 'cute'... until you discover they're pretty territorial and quite scrappy little birds!
 
got a family of the buggers in the back garden. I wonder if because sparrows seem to be dying back, other birds are filling the space? If the above is the case... then blimey, didn't know I had that many loved ones!
 
Saw this poem and painting today on Facebook.
The poem (posted without a title) is by Samantha Turner and the painting by Lucy Grossmith.

Today, I stood a little longer
At my rain-streaked window
And I watched the array of birds
Behind those wet tears of glass.
So many birds, green finch, coal tits,
Blackbirds and even the majestic Swans
All are visible to me.
But, my gaze lingered on a special little bird,
The Robin.
And I thought of you.
 

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Are Robins Symbols Of Dead Loved Ones?


No.

Robins seem to spend a lot of time in gardens and near humans. The prosaic reason is that their ecological niche is to wait near groups of large herbivores until said animals’ hooves disturb the soil, thereby turning up worms and bugs. Mr. Robin then zooms in to feast on this bounty.

To Mr. Robin you are just a weird-looking cow, and a potential source of effort-free snacks.


Soz ‘n all.

maximus otter
 
Here, and probably somewhere else, I posted about what happened when my mother in law died.

Within a day or two of her being dead, this pigeon appeared on our living room window, and glared in at us, for hours on end. We couldn't scare it or shoo it away. I'm not a fan of pigeons in fact they creep the hell out of me, always did, even before this. After 3 days of stalking us, we never saw it again. It sat there almost the entire day, each of the three days - not just for a few minutes, or an hour - but hours. Facing in to the house, staring at us.

This morning, we had a phone call to say my father in law died yesterday. (In his 90s. He had dementia and was really awful to my husband, who is a kind soul. Cut him out of his will because husband couldn't afford the petrol to go visit him - or the time, as we had a lot of young kids and were living on minimum wage - so no condolences needed).

Tonight, I went to the bog and couldn't be bothered to turn on the light. Slowly dawned on me that there was the outline of a pompom sat on the window handle, window slightly open. Realised it was a baby bird and less than a metre from me. Ran out of the loo, shutting door so it couldn't get into the rest of the house... Sent husband up. He couldn't shoo or scare it away and it was essentially in the bathroom, this time, not outside a window.

Now fledgelings are everywhere this time of year. But never had one there. He turned light on unlike me, so saw it and said it looked like a baby sparrow. He said when he spoke to it, it was asleep - open its eyes, looked at him, then shut them again.

I made him go back up after an hour or so and he said it still there, so he sort of draped the net curtain over the top half of the window so at least it couldn't get right into the bathroom. I came upstairs just now and luckily it's gone - even though it looked to be roosting.

Lived here over 20 years, and usually have birds nesting under the eaves and usually have my windows open all summer - but this is the first time that happened. (No nests this year anyway as house was just re-roofed and they knocked off all the house martin nests - birds haven't rebuilt). Hope it doesn't return tomorrow or the day after.

ETA: Yes, robins are just waiting for you to turn over the soil for a worm. We have the classic on a spade handle, daily, this time of year. Saw a robin fledgling last week. The parent was watching it from a few metres away. They will come up within a metre or so of us, but other birds don't. I followed a basketmaker's YouTube channel and he filmed himself in his workshop in his garden, feeding a robin out of his hand, every day. So you can get them quite tame. They are territorial and quite violent little birds, not at all as we sentimentalise them. The other trope for dead loved ones is a white feather. Last time I saw a little shower of ghostly looking down feathers raining down from the sky, realised a hawk had just offed a pigeon on a telephone wire, right above my head...
 
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... but don't most robins have more of an orange breast anyway? Must admit I always thought they all had red breasts until a few years ago. I was making a piece of glasswork featuring a robin and decided to check what type of red their breasts were. Looking online they appeared to be more of an orange so I did it orange. Not sure whether it depends on the type of Robin? Or perhaps it's just the way we perceive colours differently.
Since Scargs resurrected this post, which doesn't seem to have been responded to. My understanding is that there was no name for the colour orange when robins acquired the 'redbreast' epithet. The colour was covered by the word 'red'. When the fruit introduced a separate name for that part of the spectrum, I suppose 'robin orangebreast' wasn't snappy enough to overthrow the established name. I don't think it depends on the robin, at least not in the European birds.
 
Since Scargs resurrected this post, which doesn't seem to have been responded to. My understanding is that there was no name for the colour orange when robins acquired the 'redbreast' epithet. The colour was covered by the word 'red'. When the fruit introduced a separate name for that part of the spectrum, I suppose 'robin orangebreast' wasn't snappy enough to overthrow the established name. I don't think it depends on the robin, at least not in the European birds.
The 'Redbreast' name is supposed to be associated with Victorian postmen who wore red waistcoats.

But I dunno, were they actually orange waistcoats then? :dunno:
 
The 'Redbreast' name is supposed to be associated with Victorian postmen who wore red waistcoats.

But I dunno, were they actually orange waistcoats then? :dunno:

"1855 marked the replacement of the letter carrier’s cut away tail coat by a skirted, scarlet frock coat. The identification number was no longer on the buttons but now worn on the collar, while the beaver hat was replaced by a glazed hat modelled on one used by Parisian postmen. Problems with this hat meant the introduction in 1859 of a hard felt hat, which was replaced by the single-peaked shako in 1862. Other additions to the uniform were the issuing of a waterproof cape to protect the easily soiled coat. But most importantly, the outfit now included grey trousers, something postmen had previously had to provide themselves, and had been ridiculed for the lack of.


1861 saw a significant change in the uniform as it went from being predominantly red to predominantly blue. The new letter carrier’s uniform consisted of a blue frock coat with a scarlet collar, cuffs and facings, with the initials G.P.O. and the wearer’s number underneath being embroidered in white on each side. The waistcoat was made to match the coat in colour, facings, and buttons. The winter trousers were also of blue cloth, with a broad scarlet stripe on the outer seam of the leg.


In 1862, the single peak shako hat was introduced, covered in a dark blue cloth with red piping, and a straight glazed peak.


In 1868, a military style tunic replaced the frock coat and waistcoat."

https://www.postalmuseum.org/collections/highlights/postal-uniforms/

maximus otter
 
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The 'Redbreast' name is supposed to be associated with Victorian postmen who wore red waistcoats.

But I dunno, were they actually orange waistcoats then? :dunno:
I think there's a myth that robins appeared on Christmas cards because of the association between robins and postmen who delivered the cards wearing red waistcoats. I think the idea was debunked, although a cursory googling still brings up this answer and I don't have time for a deep dive. It does seem postmen were nicknamed 'robins'. As for the colour of their waistcoats; it seems so rare that anyone notices that robins actually have orange breasts in spite of their common name, I don't think anyone questioned that the postmen actually wore red, therefore shouldn't be associated with the birds.
 
I think there's a myth that robins appeared on Christmas cards because of the association between robins and postmen who delivered the cards wearing red waistcoats. I think the idea was debunked, although a cursory googling still brings up this answer and I don't have time for a deep dive. It does seem postmen were nicknamed 'robins'. As for the colour of their waistcoats; it seems so rare that anyone notices that robins actually have orange breasts in spite of their common name, I don't think anyone questioned that the postmen actually wore red, therefore shouldn't be associated with the birds.
The mythical explanation for the colour is that robins were singed when delivering succour to suffering souls in Hell or summat.

It's no doubt explained more elegantly further up the thread. :)

Singed brown feathers might go orange rather than red.
 
Here, and probably somewhere else, I posted about what happened when my mother in law died.

Within a day or two of her being dead, this pigeon appeared on our living room window, and glared in at us, for hours on end. We couldn't scare it or shoo it away. I'm not a fan of pigeons in fact they creep the hell out of me, always did, even before this. After 3 days of stalking us, we never saw it again. It sat there almost the entire day, each of the three days - not just for a few minutes, or an hour - but hours. Facing in to the house, staring at us.

This morning, we had a phone call to say my father in law died yesterday. (In his 90s. He had dementia and was really awful to my husband, who is a kind soul. Cut him out of his will because husband couldn't afford the petrol to go visit him - or the time, as we had a lot of young kids and were living on minimum wage - so no condolences needed).

Tonight, I went to the bog and couldn't be bothered to turn on the light. Slowly dawned on me that there was the outline of a pompom sat on the window handle, window slightly open. Realised it was a baby bird and less than a metre from me. Ran out of the loo, shutting door so it couldn't get into the rest of the house... Sent husband up. He couldn't shoo or scare it away and it was essentially in the bathroom, this time, not outside a window.

Now fledgelings are everywhere this time of year. But never had one there. He turned light on unlike me, so saw it and said it looked like a baby sparrow. He said when he spoke to it, it was asleep - open its eyes, looked at him, then shut them again.

I made him go back up after an hour or so and he said it still there, so he sort of draped the net curtain over the top half of the window so at least it couldn't get right into the bathroom. I came upstairs just now and luckily it's gone - even though it looked to be roosting.

Lived here over 20 years, and usually have birds nesting under the eaves and usually have my windows open all summer - but this is the first time that happened. (No nests this year anyway as house was just re-roofed and they knocked off all the house martin nests - birds haven't rebuilt). Hope it doesn't return tomorrow or the day after.

ETA: Yes, robins are just waiting for you to turn over the soil for a worm. We have the classic on a spade handle, daily, this time of year. Saw a robin fledgling last week. The parent was watching it from a few metres away. They will come up within a metre or so of us, but other birds don't. I followed a basketmaker's YouTube channel and he filmed himself in his workshop in his garden, feeding a robin out of his hand, every day. So you can get them quite tame. They are territorial and quite violent little birds, not at all as we sentimentalise them. The other trope for dead loved ones is a white feather. Last time I saw a little shower of ghostly looking down feathers raining down from the sky, realised a hawk had just offed a pigeon on a telephone wire, right above my head...
I'd suspect the sparrow fledgling wasn't sleeping, but dazzled by the light.
 
"1855 marked the replacement of the letter carrier’s cut away tail coat by a skirted, scarlet frock coat. The identification number was no longer on the buttons but now worn on the collar, while the beaver hat was replaced by a glazed hat modelled on one used by Parisian postmen. Problems with this hat meant the introduction in 1859 of a hard felt hat, which was replaced by the single-peaked shako in 1862. Other additions to the uniform were the issuing of a waterproof cape to protect the easily soiled coat. But most importantly, the outfit now included grey trousers, something postmen had previously had to provide themselves, and had been ridiculed for the lack of.


1861 saw a significant change in the uniform as it went from being predominantly red to predominantly blue. The new letter carrier’s uniform consisted of a blue frock coat with a scarlet collar, cuffs and facings, with the initials G.P.O. and the wearer’s number underneath being embroidered in white on each side. The waistcoat was made to match the coat in colour, facings, and buttons. The winter trousers were also of blue cloth, with a broad scarlet stripe on the outer seam of the leg.


In 1862, the single peak shako hat was introduced, covered in a dark blue cloth with red piping, and a straight glazed peak.


In 1868, a military style tunic replaced the frock coat and waistcoat."

https://www.postalmuseum.org/collections/highlights/postal-uniforms/

maximus otter



What have we lost...
 
Robins are certainly drawn to humans. One evening, last week-end, while I was watching a scary movie alone in the living room of my parent's house, I suddenly heard something strike at their bow window, not once but twice. The second time, I arose to go check what the hell was going on : it was getting dark outside, but nobody was to be seen in the garden. I found it weird (and given I was watching at a ghost story, I must admit I was somewhat spooked).

However, upon close examination, I noticed that a tiny bird was standing right upon the back of the garden sofa, maybe one meter away from the window. He was clearly stalking inside my parent's living room, possibly brazenly watching TV "over my shoulder". It was a robin redbreast. He only took to flight when I advanced towards the bow window.

The fact is that my now retired mother spends a lot of time in her garden and has taken the habit of over-feeding the birds with tons and tons of dry seeds. So I suspect the devilish bird made good use of his little brain and concluded : "House = source of food = cornucopia. Why wait outside when I can commit a burglary and eat my plenty inside the "pantry" ?".

Small but bold !
 
The common folklore I've heard is that the Robin was the bird that landed on Jesus's head while he was being crucified, the bird removed the crown of thorns and was covered with the blood of Jesus. In appreciation all robins since then have been festooned with red breasts.
Ahh, the version of that I was told was that while Jesus was being crucified a robin flew up with water in its beak to try and quench his thirst...but he became impaled on the crown of thorns and bled to death. Now all robins have red breasts to represent the wound of the robin who tried to aid Jesus.

Do they actually *have* robins in the Middle East?
The version I heard a long time ago was that while Jesus was being crucified, a robin flew up and tried to take out the nails, and was stained with blood, since then all robins have had a red breast.
 
But most importantly, the outfit now included grey trousers, something postmen had previously had to provide themselves, and had been ridiculed for the lack of.


And they pay homage to this through the tradition of wearing shorts in weather when others are clad in fleece trousers and long johns.
 
One day earlier this year, I got up and went downstairs to find one of our cats sitting patiently. It was staring fixedly at a door that was almost fully open and therefore almost touching the wall next to the frame. I could tell by the look on the cat's face that there was something living squeezed between the door and the wall and I summoned up my courage to peer around and see what it was.

To my very pleasant surprise, it turned out this time not to be an enormous, bloodthirsty rat bent on ripping out my throat. It was a robin, battered but intact, hoping to escape from my bloodthirsty cat bent on ripping out its throat (after no doubt an hour of gently batting it around).

There was no resistance as I picked it up and took it outside having locked the catflap, and I held it for a few minutes until it stopped shaking. I then put my hands next to our hedge, about five feet up, and tried to encourage it to hop into the branches, but it seemed reluctant. I then noticed on it what I first thought was either a weird parasite or a prolapse of some kind and felt a bit horrified as this thing began to grow in front of my eyes.

I was sure I was witness to the robin's final moments but then the 'growth' detached itself onto my hand and I realised it was an egg. A premature, soft egg, but an egg nonetheless. The robin then indeed did hop into the hedge and sat, apparently feeling relatively safe.

I'd never had a bird lay an egg on me before!

It occurred to me that had I been thinking a lot in the days running up to this episode about one particular family loss (as I might well have been) it would've been very tempting to see this all as having some meaning related to the subject of this thread. The egg would have added a wonderful dimension of rebirth (despite the fact that it was an egg destined never to hatch, and was presumably laid as a trauma reaction rather than as a "thank you". (Maybe it was a "fuck you for having a cat"!))

As it is, I think it was probably just one of the affecting, random events that sometimes make up our lives. I often like to try to ascribe meaning to things but on this occasion I don't think I can.
 
One day earlier this year, I got up and went downstairs to find one of our cats sitting patiently. It was staring fixedly at a door that was almost fully open and therefore almost touching the wall next to the frame. I could tell by the look on the cat's face that there was something living squeezed between the door and the wall and I summoned up my courage to peer around and see what it was.

To my very pleasant surprise, it turned out this time not to be an enormous, bloodthirsty rat bent on ripping out my throat. It was a robin, battered but intact, hoping to escape from my bloodthirsty cat bent on ripping out its throat (after no doubt an hour of gently batting it around).

There was no resistance as I picked it up and took it outside having locked the catflap, and I held it for a few minutes until it stopped shaking. I then put my hands next to our hedge, about five feet up, and tried to encourage it to hop into the branches, but it seemed reluctant. I then noticed on it what I first thought was either a weird parasite or a prolapse of some kind and felt a bit horrified as this thing began to grow in front of my eyes.

I was sure I was witness to the robin's final moments but then the 'growth' detached itself onto my hand and I realised it was an egg. A premature, soft egg, but an egg nonetheless. The robin then indeed did hop into the hedge and sat, apparently feeling relatively safe.

I'd never had a bird lay an egg on me before!

It occurred to me that had I been thinking a lot in the days running up to this episode about one particular family loss (as I might well have been) it would've been very tempting to see this all as having some meaning related to the subject of this thread. The egg would have added a wonderful dimension of rebirth (despite the fact that it was an egg destined never to hatch, and was presumably laid as a trauma reaction rather than as a "thank you". (Maybe it was a "fuck you for having a cat"!))

As it is, I think it was probably just one of the affecting, random events that sometimes make up our lives. I often like to try to ascribe meaning to things but on this occasion I don't think I can.
What a unique, magical moment!






So what did the egg taste like? :p
 
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