Spring is here in Happy Valley, and the robins are out in full force.  Having spent the last 20 or so springs in southern California, it is a definite change to see robins, cardinals, and blue jays flitting about.  The leaves have only just begun to burgeon forth, so it is still quite easy to see the birds in the trees.

In the morning, as Verbal and I walk – he stops to sniff and I look above me to try to identify bird calls.  Today’s cardinal had a long whistle with a series of chirps after it.  His bright red coat standing out among the blossoms of the pear tree.  While the leaves may be just beginning, the blossoms in the tree are at their height of flourish.

Which brings me to the robins.  Admittedly, it’s been a long time since I have regularly seen robins, but the robins of my youth were slim, red-breasted fellows who would eye you with a beady eye as they searched for worms.  The robins here are fat, beastly boys who also seem to be incredibly smart or incredibly stupid.  I haven’t quite made up my mind on this one.

Either incredibly smart because when I approach them on the path, they don’t fly off.  They seemingly ignore me as if to say, “Yeah, you humans are the least of our worries.  You’re on two legs and don’t really bother us.”  Conversely, they could just be unbelievably dumb to ignore the threat, of me, and are just blithely oblivious to impending doom.

Fat – I think this comes from the wormage factor here in State College.  (Wormage – while not appearing in Merriam Webster, it proudly boasts recognition from the Urban Dictionary – just too fun not to use!)  Not sure if I mentioned in a previous post that when it rains here, the worms surface in abundance.  In fact, the side walks, bike paths, and driveways are littered with worms during the rain.  This wriggling mass  from the phylum Annelida turns to a carnage-strewn avian smorgasbord by late afternoon.  Thus resulting in portly robins who I daresay will continue to enjoy April showers.

By the by, and wholly unrelated to the above, in my quest for a string of alliteration for the letter ‘p’, I came across three heretofore unknown words that I am baffled exist:

paneity – The state of being bread.   (Really, need I say more?)

pardine  – Of or pertaining to leopards. (I guess if you are in the pardine business this is a useful word)

perdricide – Killer of partridges.  (Perhaps, more common in the early 20th and 19th centuries, when killing partridges was de rigueur.)

Well, suffice it to say, robins in State College are in no fear of starvation.

As ever,

K. Quinn