I used to think that the appearance of robins was one of the first signs of Spring. In recent years, though, it seems like there is quite a large flock of robins who do not migrate. Sometimes in the winter, as they sit lonely on snow-covered limbs, I can’t help but wonder if they are thinking: “It would be so much nicer down south. Whose bright idea was it to stay?”
Much about this picture is wrong — wrong exposure, wrong contrast, wrong framing — but I like it anyway. In part, I like it because it was a mistake that had some redeeming qualities. But I also like it because so often in the winter this is what a look out my house windows looks like: a lonely robin seated on barren limbs on a blustery grey winter day. The only thing unusual about this is that it isn’t November yet!