SOME time ago, I visited an elderly relative about this time of year. As we chatted over a cup of tea, the postman arrived with a handful of Christmas cards and she insisted on opening them in my presence. Then with a shriek of horror, she threw one of them into the fire.

I was to discover it depicted a handsome red-breasted robin and she was of a generation that believed that if a robin entered your house at any time of year except November, it heralded a death in the household. She had always believed that old superstition but her belief also extended to illustrations of robins whether photographs, paintings or other images.

I did not dare ask her why she believed in that old superstition because, surprisingly, it did not apply to the month of November although it was then effective if a robin tapped on a house window. There was a corresponding belief that death of a member of the congregation would occur if a robin flew into a church and sang there.

These very ancient superstitions seems to be associated with a legend that as Christ was dying on Good Friday, a robin attempted to withdraw the thorns of the Crown of Thorns but failed to save His life.

A similar tale said that as Christ lay dead after the Crucifixion, a robin appeared. It covered his naked body with leaves when it was said the bird’s own body was stained with the blood of Christ, since commemorated in that famous red breast. For centuries afterwards it was said that any robin, upon finding the corpse of a dead person, would cover the remains with leaves or moss. Indeed, that old belief entered our folklore when a robin is said to have covered the dead bodies of the Babes in the Wood with leaves. In some areas, it was claimed a robin would sing mournfully beside the deceased until the burial was complete.

In direct contrast to these old beliefs, it was popularly considered unlucky to kill or harm a robin, or to steal or destroy its eggs and damage its nest. There was a strong belief that anyone who harmed a robin or its nest would suffer as a consequence, and if the raider broke a leg or wing of the robin, then he or she would suffer a broken arm or leg.

It is claimed that the robin is the most popular bird in this country and this might be partially due to it being so tame. Gardeners will tell stories of robins following their digging work and helping themselves to grubs and worms that are revealed. In towns too, robins will visit open-air dining areas to pick fallen titbits from the ground and they have been known to take delicacies from the hands of diners. Another appealing practice of robins is to nest in peculiar places. They will cheerful occupy an old cast-off kettle or sauce-pan to bring up their new family and have

been known to nest in disused old cars. Sheds, garden shelters and various building that are open to the elements may find themselves hosting a family of robins but many gardens with dense vegetation, such as a covering of ivy on the walls or some dense un-pruned undergrowth will provide cover for nesting robins.

Reverting to my references to robins on Christmas cards, this seems to be a comparatively modern superstition. Christmas cards as we know them did not make their appearance until Victorian times when a man called Henry Cole asked his friend, John Calcott Horsley to design a card for sending to friends and family at Christmas. He did so, and the first was sent in 1843. It seems the idea was based on an older custom whereby cards were sent to friends and family to mark the New Year.

It took a while for the idea of a Christmas card to appeal to a wider public but by the 1860s, the notion of buying and sending cheap cards at Christmas began to spread around the country. Those very early cards did not embrace the religious symbolism of Christmas but were far more concerned with family entertainments like dancing and eating, although winter scenes with holly and snow were featured.

My notes do not tell me when the robin first appeared on Christmas cards but it does seem the belief that a card bearing a robin will bring death to the house has no basis in ancient folklore. As for the robins, they are one of the few birds that sing during the winter months and that

should make the robin’s image suitable for our Christmas cards.

Busy bird-feeders

OUR garden contains a couple of busy bird-feeders and over the year, we’ve experienced grey squirrels on them in defiance of my defences and on one memorable occasion we spotted a goshawk which remained long enough for a visitor to view it but also for me to check its identity in one of my reference books.

Other garden visitors who did not seem interested in the feeders include a sparrow hawk, a cock pheasant, a jay, a tawny owl, a heron, plenty of wrens, robins, thrushes and blackbirds. In addition there are passers-by overhead which include crows, rooks, jackdaws, starlings, pigeons, a trio of circling buzzards and an unsettling amount of species I cannot identity. This is always difficult but I am sure they include various species of gull and some geese in their V-shaped formations.

There is always the added interest of something unexpected and perhaps my rarest sighting, just outside our garden, was a corncrake. I saw it in flight with its legs trailing, then heard it in a nearby hayfield. That happened on 9th August, 1986 and I recorded that visit in this column. It was sufficiently rare to warrant such a record in my files - but it did not visit our bird feeders!

Among our recent arrivals was a pair of handsome great spotted woodpeckers, male and female each about the size of a blackbird.

They arrived separately but both are instantly recognizable with their large beaks, black and white plumage and a red patch under the tail.

The male has a red patch on the back of his head but neither the female nor the young ones have such a patch. However, a young one has a red forehead!

The arrival of one of these woodpeckers heralds the rapid departure of our other garden birds. I have never witnessed an attack on the garden birds by a woodpecker but it seems their mere presence is enough to send the others scattering.

Those woodpeckers are agile enough to hang onto the suspended feeders as they hammer into the peanuts. Upon finishing their meal, they perform their regular trick of departure by climbing the trunk or branches of our cherry tree on the side away from the house and out of our sight. Then they fly off with their distinctive bounding flight. I’ve yet to see a green woodpecker, (or yaffle), on our bird feeders although their laughing call is sometimes heard in nearby woods.