There is a European Robin (Erithacus rubecula) that visits our garden every day and he has a lot to say. So much, in fact, that he insists on starting to say it at five o’clock in the morning, just to be sure he has enough time to recite his lengthy rhetoric before sundown.

He begins his warbles from the bushes that sit just outside our living room wall. His commentary echoes into the house through the fireplace vents and proceed to bounce from room to room.

After he grows tired of the bushes, he moves into the backyard. He perches on the edge of a large flower pot where he eyes us through the patio window. He seems perplexed by our groggy frowns and sleepy grumbles and tilts his head as he watches us fumble around the room, tea in hand, searching for the remote.

We settle on the couch as he continues his lecture: come on, get up, time to get up, I mean really, don’t just sit there, you need to get moving and get on with the day, hup two, now where’s the birdseed? the doves will be here any minute, and they’ll need their seed, now come on!

When we finally get around to scattering birdseed around the backyard, he hops from one vantage point to the next overseeing our dispersal of breakfast. Then the doves arrive, slowly—I think our robin woke them up and called them to the mess hall. The robin watches the doves closely, hopping in and out of the bushes looking on, occasionally nicking a seed here and there but for the most part just making sure everything is just running to schedule in his garden.

In the afternoon, he begins to relax and his chatter starts to wind down. Sometimes he ventures out of the yard for hours at a time, possibly checking on other things around the neighborhood. We grasp the opportunity and sneek a little nap on the couch.

Photo © David Tipling / Getty Images.