From Gloria's column

March 25, 2004

Dear Lupie friends,

I published this one a couple years back. Thought I would resurrect

it for you in honor of spring. Hope you like it.

Gloria

On Doing What Needs To Be Done

The last few summers we've had odd robins in our yard. The

first one I noticed had a gimpy leg. Last year it was one with just

a stub for a tail and this year I've spotted one with a bump on it's

back. I can't tell if it's merely a cowlick of feathers, which would

be odd enough, or an actual hump under the feathers. He's certainly

not going to hold still while I try to find out which. He reminds me

of Quasimodo. The big maple in my yard is his bell-tower. Hopping

from one branch to another, then to the ground where he cocks his

head to the grass eyeballing unsuspecting nightcrawlers. (Can a bird

give an earthworm the " ole fish-eye " ? Wouldn't that be a case of

zoologically mixing metaphors?)

Birds tend to be identical within their species. Cut from

the same bolt of fabric, as it were. For example, if you caught two

purple finches, put them in a cage and gave them names. Let's say

Frick and Frack for lack of something more creative at the moment.

Now, let's say you left them alone to go about their business in the

cage and you went about your business elsewhere. I would dare to

venture that when you returned to the cage you would be hard pressed

to tell which was Frack and who was Frick. But not so with these odd

birds bent on summering at our house. They could easily be picked

out of a whole yard full of other robins.

It's inspiring to me that none of the odd robins have allowed

their oddness to stop them from doing what needs to be done. They're

out there every day with the best of them pulling earthworms,

building nests, powdering themselves in drive-way dust, and trilling

their evening songs oblivious to the fact that they are tail-less,

gimpy or even hump-backed.

So, I'm wondering. Does every backyard have its odd robins

or is it just mine? Are they drawn here like the neighborhood's old

dogs that sleep on my porch; to some silent signal I might be sending

out?

I rather like the thought that perhaps they have found a

kindred spirit here. I have my gimpy days, too.

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