Slurping in the New Year

Given what a complete load of shite 2025 was, let’s start out the new year with robins.

I walked into my living room Tuesday afternoon (after finishing yesterday’s post on notable deaths of the year) to see two robins drinking from the birdbath. There were more of them in the trees and on the ground. (It’s been my observation that robins, like nuns, never travel alone; in fact, if you see one, it generally means that there’s a squadron of them nearby.)

We’ve had some cold weather in the past couple of days, so they may have had difficulty finding unfrozen water, but my birdbath is heated. (No, it’s not like a hot tub; it just keeps the contents from freezing.) So it may have been their best source in the neighborhood.

There were so many drinking, I had to replenish the water mid-afternoon.

And I was entranced watching them.

Let’s hope this is a harbinger for 2026.

 

 

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